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 |   A third attempt at this blogging business. |
| 30DBC PROMPT: "What does forgetting mean to you?" Good afternoon, amazing readers! It's the first day of another official month in the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS"  , and I'm as excited as I'll ever be to get this thing started...good luck to all the challengers, the judges, and to you, the person who's willing to put up with this for another month.What does forgetting mean to me? I totally knew what I was gonna say about that this morning, but I was so preoccupied with getting ready for work that I never got a chance to write it down...and the more I think about it, the more I get the feeling I'm drifting further away from whatever it was I had in mind.   True story...the last thing I did before I left the house this morning was pick something for lunch and shove it in my bag. By the time I got to work five minutes later, all I could remember was that I grabbed a spoon, and for the first half hour I was there I couldn't for the life of me tell you about anything food-wise that I have that would require such a utensil (besides cereal). By noon I was thoroughly lost regarding my lunch, so I treated it like it was a surprise to myself (as much as a microwaveable bowl of Chunky soup can be). It's becoming more and more evident that my short-term memory is getting shorter and shorter the longer I live.I don't know if it's a product of getting older combined with the stress and damage I've done to my entire body over the years, or the immediate preoccupations involved with having to get up and get ready to go to a place where I'm required to be functional beyond the pace I've grown accustomed to over the last two years, that's caused me to feel like I've lost a step or two in the thinking department, but it's slightly concerning because even on my worst days I used to be a lot sharper and quicker when it comes to recalling information and following routines. I think it's troubling because I know I used to have a much faster mental reaction time to so many different situations, and there are times now that I feel like there's something I could be doing or saying, but it hangs like a webpage that's no longer responding once you've submitted the info. As I'm sure it's case with a lot of people as they get older, I think I'm at the point in life where I'm starting to forget more than what I would've remembered at, say, age 17 or 25, and from this point on I'll probably forget even more than many will ever remember. I'll be 39 in a few weeks...is that the cutoff demographic where pertinent memories of a life well-lived (even through many ups and downs) start to fade as it becomes more important to focus harder on what lies ahead? Times that have been key ingredients shaping who am I up 'til now...are they purged because I need to remember more of the basic day-to-day things we all have to do? I don't want to let go, but I also want to be productive. It's another inner struggle I'd rather avoid, but it'll probably happen before I can even do anything about it (which kinda makes me wish I would've started writing a book around the same time I got the notion to write a book). The funny thing about this short-term memory loss is that it almost serves as a reminder of why I'm even thinking about how I've ended up in this quasi-predicament to begin with. If you follow sports even just a little bit, you know that concussions are becoming more and more of a story. Football, hockey, and any contact sport basically...from a young age you're taught to be tough, hold your spot, and get up after every shot. You don't wanna look like you've just got your bell rung...shake it off, and get ready for the next play. If you can't go, someone else will be more than happy to take your reps or your spot. There was no science or technology to say "Hey, maybe you need a day or two to recover"...not only did you have something to prove to your teammates and coaches, but injuries were often looked at as physical and tangible. If you can't see something as being broken, it's not...and nobody could predict from seeing you get clocked on the dome a gang of times that it would take years before the effects started to show. How many concussions have I been treated for in my life? Two, I think...one definitely. But how many have I had? More than I can remember. Between pickup and organized football, wrestling, pickup basketball, and rec league hockey, I've had at least ten easily. I'm not a big guy, so I've always been going up against people that have been bigger/faster/stronger. I always had "a high motor"...it basically took running into a brick wall to stop me. And when you're in an invincible mindset, you think you can break that wall- sometimes you do- but that's not always the case. I can remember two big hits I received that knocked me clear outta time and place. I was driving the lane once playing basketball, and I turned my head to fake a pass so I could go to the basket. The guy covering me didn't bite, and as I swung my head to start my drive he repositioned himself...the impact of his shoulder hitting my head was like a bat hitting a baseball; I spun into a 180 with my head going one way and my body wanting to go the other. I was loopy and a tangled mess of thoughts for two days after. The second time was during a floor hockey game...I was a defenseman joining the rush, and right before I took a pass I glanced down to make sure I was onside (which I know is a huge no-no). When I looked up it was smack dab into a guy who laid me right the fuck out. Center court. Again, same bat-on-ball analogy. I wasn't right for a few days. What we know now about concussions is so much more than we did five, ten, or fifty years ago. Too many can cause tau deposits on your brain, which is a protein fluid buildup and is a known cause of depression, early-onset Alzheimer's, and other psychological traumas (like forgetfulness, depression, and anxiety, as well as a higher disposition toward substance abuse). The sad part is tau is easiest to detect once you're dead (although breakthroughs in treatment are slowly happening where traces of it are now measurable in living specimens), so it's not like there's a readily-available cure for something that we can't just see. Studies have been done on deceased football players' brains that can at least shed some light on their plight, but that alone doesn't offer any sort of preventative measures in the meantime. So yeah, when I'm having a day where my brain feels like it's in a fog and can't get started on goin' where it needs to go, most of that is likely due to me gettin' the crap knocked outta me while tryin' to be some kind of athlete (or the affects too many of those hits had on me down the road). I'm still transitioning, and learning that my body can't take the same abuse it withstood years before. I'm recalibrating, and it takes time...unfortunately, remembering my lunch is something that gets sacrificed in that change. Like many things that trigger memories, forgetfulness is the trigger for my stronger, youthful days. BCF PROMPT: "Take a nursery rhyme and create a new story. I believe you can do better than the black plague..." I don't know if I have the capacity to do something like this that isn't Andrew Dice Clay or Ice Cube (NSFW). Humpty Maybe Humpty Maybe was playin' the wall, wantin' not to be bothered by anyone at all. Society doesn't like loners one bit and they wanted to break his shell so he'd fit in. Humpty Maybe knew himself better and didn't wanna run with trend-setters. He got fed up and lashed out at the fakes who didn't think it'd matter what his intentions were about. Humpty Maybe moved off the wall and found himself in the middle of trials he didn't want to associate with. But his new friends didn't call when everything became petty nonsense. Humpty Maybe fell too far away from his safe place along the wall. When he realized it was time to heal his people ditched him because he was too far gone to remember how to care for himself anymore, so he skipped town because if no one remembers a Maybe there, they're not gonna remember a Maybe anywhere, especially if he's got mental problems and can't be trusted or relied on because he likes the drinky-drinky more than he likes all the king's horses and all the kids' bullshit...that Humpty Maybe sure was a bitter egg, for too many reasons that the moral of this pseudo-fable can't get into legally (but if a book ever comes out about it he'll see if he can cut you a break on the cover price). Just remember, prompter...you asked for it.  MUSICAL BREAK!!  Happy Canada Day to all of my Canadian friends...Brother Nature   , In Your Dirtiest Pants , 💙 Carly-wrimo 2024  , ~Lifelessons~ (you're in Canada, right?), and everyone else north of the US border. Thank you for giving us some great musicians that, no matter what, never seem to suck ever.THE DAILY BOX SCORE:   "In your opinion, what is the best 21st century romance film and why? (If you haven't seen a romantic movie in the past 14 years, then use a 21st century book - and get out to the movies soon!) [Note: I am going against the grain by picking romance films - extra credits for Mitchopolis.]"Y'all know I don't do film, right? And no kinda prompt is gonna encourage me to run out and see a movie in a theater (for reasons I've wasted too many words on over years I'll only learn to apologize for maybe someday). Mitchopolis , who exactly are you hoping to score points with from this prompt? The people who give you movie night ideas for you and your wife, or your wife? I think some of that "extra credit" you're lookin' for should be dispersed if it leads to a fancy cuddle-date with your significant other. We should get some sort of "hey, yo" credit for the lovin' up on you based on our responses, if you're gonna be like that.  I can't even say I've read romantic books lately...since I've been in Cortland, all I've read are "classics" and biographies. I don't think Neil Young's incredibly vapid tome Waging Heavy Peace is gonna get your lover in the mood...unless you wanna hear endless tales about his cars and his dreams of a high-end subscription music service/player (which seems as of now to only work in his custom ride).I guess the last movie I saw in a theater, Clerks II , sorta has a romantic twist to it, but it's not the ideal sort of experience us regular people should aspire to attain as far as relationships go (but then again, isn't damn near every movie relationship built on seemingly impossible premises??). I don't even remember exactly how the movie ends up or which character gets to spend some happily-ever-afternoons with Rosario Dawson's character, but if I'm gonna be told to get my a-double-ess to a cinema then you can suck it while watching every Kevin Smith movie twice, including whatever crap he put out after Jay And Silent Bob Strike Back and Zack And Miri Make A Porno (both of which feature some romantic under-plots, and that's my word). Get some laughs with your underdog romance tales...that's a recipe for late-nite, "kids are sleepin'", a-dult themed good times, yo. Guys...make her laugh, and she's yours. Girls...make him, ummm...breakfast? Yeah...he's yours too, until you can get a restraining order (but please, don't make life too hard on him...he tried, and it didn't work, but he probably really liked you a lot more than he let on because guys are tone-deaf like that, and the next step toward mutual acceptance is the removal of all doubt in his head that he's got any say in anything, which leads to batshit craziness when he's wrong and has left his trust in your unstable palms because eggs are just better when cooked by the person who wants them. Never question someone's egg preferences, because they'll never fit in that omelet, and if someone busts your over-easy yokes, who knows what else they're gonna fuck up in your life). Eggs, not hugs or drugs, players. Write the right script and I'll star in that movie about romance. Until then, be sadly complacent in your life with your siggy-oth, dreaming of multi-millions on a screen ten-bazillion times bigger in front of exponentially greater audiences than any tv you're used to in your folk's basement.  Hi! I't's me, and today I've been a member of WDC for 13 years! Please don't get all "special" about it. All it means is that I've seen some things...like this . Some of those links are still active and most are not. I'm happy being a supporter of a site I've grown with, changed with, and has been a part of most of my days since I joined back in 2001 when I was bored because my roommate wanted me to go to UB (his school) to watch fireworks. Fuck that and fuck fireworks ...I immediately found a community that liked me for what I liked, and if you've seen one display you've seen them all. It doesn't excite me one bit. But yay me for one day...and this one thing doesn't have to go away. I'm pretty sure this is not what happens for most of us when we're trying to make a life out of things and Canada is a part of it...I've never wanted to die in Canada, if that's any consolation to my Canadian I don't talk like that. If I'm in your country and I keel over, it's on your flag I had a boss time partying with your finest, but I will not rock Brother Nature 's rain gear. I think I'd still survive. Well, I don't even know where to quit and I'm not sure I've even begun. Thanks for comin' along for the ride, and I hope to see y'all soon. Peace, the one thing I remember, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
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