LizardDreams

I don't know how to write this so it sounds like a song. I don't know how to make these words into a poem. I don't know how it can be anything other than what it is: a self-pitying whine, a weepy call for sympathy.

All about me during my walk today I could see families readying their homes for Christmas. Families. Fathers stomping about on rooftops, sons untangling cords, and mothers rearranging boxes in the garage, searching for wreaths or ornaments. On Facebook and in the blogosphere people have posted pictures showing the freshly cut trees they chose, about to take home, about to decorate. I have a chicken roasting in the oven and the scent of its crisping herbed skin hugs the air inside my house.

When my children were wee, it was I who would help with the lights. We had the most obnoxious, the most brightly lit house in the neighborhood. Most people exclaimed over the palm tree, striped like a candy cane with bands of red twinkle lights, and bands of clear twinkle lights. Ostentatious, cheery, and something that gave us joy. As the kids grew older, we conscripted them, and one day it was our son who climbed the extension ladder handing up the strand to his father, rather than me. The Girl and I would be planning the way we would decorate the tree. And there would be a chicken in the oven, the scent of its cooking sending fingers into each room.

I am happier now; there is peace in my house, although it is not lit up like Santa's Village, nor is there a tree. I would rather have the peace, but oh!

I do miss those days.

I don't know how to stop the melancholy.

For an introduction, I will mention something that has nothing to do with the topic of this post: I credit The Hip One for inspiring me to blog. I check his blog semi-irregularly (on the more "ir" side of regularly than merely "irregularly", rather than the opposite of "irregularly" which would be, well, "regularly"), and when he yatters so interestingly about "stuff" I feel, "well, hell! I can do 'stuff', too!" 'course he makes his 'stuff' interesting and I just, well, I do go on. 'nuf a that.

I go to the right park. It is exactly the right park because it is within walking distance and is spacious. There is grass, and there are trees. It has hillocks. It has wildlife: prairie dogs, interesting varieties of dinosaurs, coyote, and soccer parents. It is pleasant. I like it. My dogs like it. So it is the right park.

Sometimes, though, the wrong people go to my park.

I'm going to back up slightly and mention that this park is popular with dog owners. We're all fairly courteous -- we pick up after our dogs, we keep them on leashes unless they are so well behaved that they don't need to be, and when other people approach with other dogs, the leash-free folk are guarded and wary enough to leash their dogs if need be to avoid causing trouble.

I am going to take one more step back and mention that my son's dog, Lily, is a somewhat hyper-aggressive dog. She views pretty much every other dog as a possible threat, and she reacts by yipping and snarling. If she's off-leash, she'll charge at the other dog, nipping at them. If they react by fighting back, it can get fairly ugly. My own pair of dogs get excited by Lily and try to join the fray. It can be very challenging handling three dogs at once when they're all frenzied. You can imagine, then, that I am cautious when there are other dogs about in the park.

It's not difficult to avoid people with dogs. I stay alert. I plan my route through the park. I change direction readily when someone pops up on the horizon in my path.

One particular morning not long ago I entered the park and paused to untangle the leashes and survey the situation. I could see a cluster of people with dogs ahead of me, and some of them were leaving the group to head out. One woman with a large German Shepherd started coming toward me. I saw to my left a man with two small yippy dogs on leashes also coming toward me. I was trying to figure out the best route to take to avoid them all when, unbeknown to me, a man with a dog turned a corner behind me. Lily, already in an excitable mood from the sight of the other dogs, heard them and started charging, jumping, yipping. All three of my hooligans were soon tangling me up in the leashes, snarling at one another in their excitement and frustration and fear.

The man behind me moved away. He was not a dummy.

The man with the two small dogs veered away. He, too, was not a dummy.

The cluster of folk with all the dogs up ahead stared, but did not come closer. Also not dummies.

German Shepherd Woman, however, continued walking directly toward me. As she approached the Shepherd strained at his leash, barking. All I could do was brace, muscles straining, leashes cutting into my hands as my trio of combined 140 lb of fur and teeth and frenzy whirled about me.

I called out to the woman, "Please move away. They don't like other dogs."

She stopped, about 10 feet away from me now, her dog agitated. As she finally started to move away from me, tugging at her dog, she looked back and smiled and she said, "Well, honey, then you came to the wrong park."

Stupid woman. Stupid, stupid woman. I wanted to tell her she was a stupid woman, but all I could do was say, "No. It's the right park. I usually can avoid people like you."

I don't do NaNoWriMo.

For those who do not know NaNo, what it is is National Novel Writing Month: write a novel of 50,000 words starting Nov 1, and finishing Nov 30. So many of my writerly friends attempt it, and many even succeed. I am not aware of any of these novels being published, but the point is not to get them published, but, rather, to write.

I am, or was, a writer. Let me emphasis the past tense. I really do not consider myself a writer any more, simply because I do not write. Where once I'd crank out articles, short stories, the beginnings of books, now I can't even muster sufficient words to comprise a blog entry on a regular basis.

Why the literary ennui?

I'll take the tack Don does: too filled with the stuff that clogs my day-to-day living. I permit myself the luxury of holding the back of my hand to my forehead and sigh about how little "me" time I have, and how my brain craves cessation at the end of the work day, rather than stay active trying to populate a fictional world.

So, no NaNo for gekko. Not never, no. But not now.

It seems, sometimes, as though the United States is, in reality, a giant high school. It has its cliques, like the jocks and the stoners. Remember? The jocks swaggered, blustered, and got in your face. They'd use threats and fear, and they'd beat up the stoners. The stoners, meanwhile, would be all, "Hey, man, just chill, it's cool. Wanna toke?" Then they'd giggle and make off-color jokes about the jocks' sexual preferences and the size of their girlfriends' tits or ass.

This is how I see partisan politics these days. On one side, you have the rather mellow lefty-loons who use comedians as their spokes-media. Colbert, Maher, Groening, "Family Guy's" Seth McFarland, Gary Trudeau. These guys didn't just take a page, they ripped entire volumes from Twain's library, clearly.

Not to be outdone, the right wingnuts have selected the masters of froth to pitch for them. Limbaugh, Beck, Hannity, Coulter, and Malkin. Fearmongers and screechers. The world is ending! The holy of holies of the week is under attack, and only spittle can save us! It's odd, but only right wingnuts seem to be listening seriously. Moderates are hanging back, not too far from the stoners, and laughing.

I wonder when the right is going to realize how stupid they look. If they really want start influencing people, they should stop blustering and fire up their own barbecues.

I was tagged over on Facebook to do this meme by SereneBabe -- I believe she listed her current favorites. Paula, who no longer blogs, responded on Facebook doing all-time favorites. I'll follow Paula's lead and list my all time faves. While I will not list F-Troop in my all-time, I totally agree with Paula that it was a hilarious program; the interactions between the characters was superb.

The Simpsons: OMG, ground-breaking in the same way Groening's print cartoon "Life In Hell" with its irreverent one-eared rabbit Binky was ground-breaking. It mocks everything. No religion is sacred, and even atheism takes its licks. Corporations, tree-huggers, punks, rebels, authority figures, politicians, families, television shows -- nothing escapes the scythe of Groening's wit. Lurves it.

Family Guy: As long as I'm on the topic of animated television shows, I have to list this one. MacFarlane admits that Groening was a role model and since his college days at the Rhode Island School of Design has more or less striven to follow in Homer Simpson's footsteps. His thesis film serves as the predecessor to Family Guy. The mockery is similar in scope, but different in execution, however it is MacFarlane's voices that give it additional pleasure for me.

Gilligan's Island: Dunno why this goofy sitcom made such a deep impression on me, but it did. I have seen every episode more times than I can count. I'm not nutter enough to be able to quote lines from the program, but let me just say that G.I. filled up many otherwise boring afternoons. I was one of those insufferable A student types who never had to do homework at home because I did it all while at school, half paying attention to class, half doing the homework for the previous class. Since all my friends were stuck doing their homework and chores, well ... Hello Gilligan!

Star Trek: The original. I enjoyed The Next Generation, but nowhere near as much as this corny, predictable, entirely beloved series. I did not see it when it originally aired, catching the afternoon reruns, but I developed a teenage obsession with Spock and Kirk. Shatner -- before he got pudgy, and in spite of his overly dramatic approach to the role -- made me dream moist and girlish dreams. Spock was beyond cool, though. So in my dreams I was a hot, strong-willed, impulsive, yet entirely rational and intelligent star ship captain; the perfect blend of Kirk and Spock, with Yeoman Rand's and Lt. Uhuru's beauty.

NCIS: I was first introduced to this show while it was in its fourth season after a years long hiatus from television. I developed a strong attachment to crime shows, especially those that portrayed some level of forensic science and deductive reasoning. (This is why I am not a fan of the Law & Order shows, as they just set up situations and plow through them without really showing us the science or solid deduction). And along the same lines as my girlhood sighs over strong male leads, Gibbs is totally to die for. I would totally not throw him out of bed. I am going to also toss CSI (the original, Las Vegas one), Criminal Minds, and Numb3rs in here for the reasons I list above, sans Gibbs.

Dark Shadows: both the old original soap, and the brief revival series in the early 90s. Mostly the original soap with Jonathan Frid as the romantic and dangerous Barnabas Collins. I am also a fan of Tim Burton and Johnny Depp, so it was with interest that I read the following in Wikipedia:

Director Tim Burton and pop icon Madonna have both gone on record as fans of the series. As a child Johnny Depp was so obsessed with Barnabas Collins that he wanted to be him. In fact, Tim Burton and Johnny Depp are collaborating yet again to bring this series back to life. Johnny Depp will play the lead role of Barnabas. It will be director Tim Burton's next project and eighth collaboration with Depp.

Cool.

Dr. Who: The portion of the original series featuring Tom Baker, (the fourth Doctor) and then the more recent revival with Christopher Eccleston (who briefly appeared in Heroes) and especially David Tennant. Baker and Tennant both filled the role deliciously. A beautiful, yet natural seeming mix of arrogance and twisted humor that I do not feel the other Doctors quite had. I'll admit I've not seen any with Doctors six through eight. What made this series worth watching was its total campiness. It made no apologies for its cheesy aliens and technology on the cheap. In fact, one might argue that it strove for low-end in order to capture camp. Was it the illegitimate child of "Lost In Space" and "Star Trek", I wonder? I later came to enjoy the film "Brazil" for the same reason. I would like to see "Torchwood," which is a spin-off from the later Who.

See, the problem is that politicians are just people. We forget that. We elect them, and then we want them to be more than people. We want to hold them to a higher standard. We are aghast when they cheat on their spouses -- moreso than when it's your neighbor. We're shrill -- Jesse Jackson fathered a baby with a young woman! John Edwards had known all along that baby was his! Bush lied! Obama lied!

But they're people. They're human, and so they are frail, and they lie, cheat, connive, take risks, are arrogant, jingoistic, bloated. Just like pretty much all of humanity as a species. And just as individuals among the species vary, so too do politicians. Some are kind of good. Some are not so bad. Some are worse.

This is nothing new, nothing surprising, but we forget it. We expect -- demand -- our leaders be better than merely human. We find it difficult to forgive them when they end up being merely human.

A few days ago in some lost conversation I mentioned that I dislike politicians. A friend said she actually liked them, which, of course, got me to thinking. Why do I not like them? They're human. I like humans. Should I not like politicians, just as a matter of course, and let the bad individuals among them stand out as not like-worthy?

Well, no. See, I form likes and dislikes based on behavioral characteristics and how it affects me. It seems to me that the very behaviors a politician requires in order to succeed as a politician and a statesman are the behaviors I find least like-worthy among humans.

For example, we all lie to varying degrees, and I am no exception. It is not a behavior to celebrate, and yet, a politician, in order to succeed in getting elected, must hone and refine and embrace the lie. He must lie without seeming to lie. He must shade, and evade, and spin. Deceit is one of the tools of his trade. Once elected, that tool is again essential as he deals with other elected officials, and with foreign statesmen. It behooves the elected official to do the best he can for his constituency. I can't really fault the politician for being an accomplished liar. We would not do well as a nation if our leaders could not or would not do this to some extent. But I don't like it.

We all manipulate. We all try to get the best for ourselves and ours. Politicians, again, must excel at manipulation and taking tactical advantage of situations, even at cost to others. Politicians must succeed more than they fail at amassing the goodies. I can't fault them for being good at it. But I don't like them, because they are good at it.

Does that make sense?

So I am unsurprised when a Joe Wilson type plots to gain notoriety and improve his campaign chances by shouting "You lie!" during a a televised address by President Obama. I figure, that's what he and his ilk do. Grandstand and make themselves known. I don't like that he did it. I don't like him, for many reasons beyond his politician-ness. But I feel pretty much the same way about President Obama, and President Bush before him, and Senator McCain and, well ... politicians in general.

They're too good at being human.

See, the problem is that politicians are just people. We forget that. We elect them, and then we want them to be more than people. We want to hold them to a higher standard. We are aghast when they cheat on their spouses -- moreso than when it's your neighbor. We're shrill -- Jesse Jackson fathered a baby with a young woman! John Edwards had known all along that baby was his! Bush lied! Obama lied!

But they're people. They're human, and so they are frail, and they lie, cheat, connive, take risks, are arrogant, jingoistic, bloated. Just like pretty much all of humanity as a species. And just as individuals among the species vary, so too do politicians. Some are kind of good. Some are not so bad. Some are worse.

This is nothing new, nothing surprising, but we forget it. We expect -- demand -- our leaders be better than merely human. We find it difficult to forgive them when they end up being merely human.

A few days ago in some lost conversation I mentioned that I dislike politicians. A friend said she actually liked them, which, of course, got me to thinking. Why do I not like them? They're human. I like humans. Should I not like politicians, just as a matter of course, and let the bad individuals among them stand out as not like-worthy?

Well, no. See, I form likes and dislikes based on behavioral characteristics and how it affects me. It seems to me that the very behaviors a politician requires in order to succeed as a politician and a statesman are the behaviors I find least like-worthy among humans.

For example, we all lie to varying degrees, and I am no exception. It is not a behavior to celebrate, and yet, a politician, in order to succeed in getting elected, must hone and refine and embrace the lie. He must lie without seeming to lie. He must shade, and evade, and spin. Deceit is one of the tools of his trade. Once elected, that tool is again essential as he deals with other elected officials, and with foreign statesmen. It behooves the elected official to do the best he can for his constituency. I can't really fault the politician for being an accomplished liar. We would not do well as a nation if our leaders could not or would not do this to some extent. But I don't like it.

We all manipulate. We all try to get the best for ourselves and ours. Politicians, again, must excel at manipulation and taking tactical advantage of situations, even at cost to others. Politicians must succeed more than they fail at amassing the goodies. I can't fault them for being good at it. But I don't like them, because they are good at it.

Does that make sense?

So I am unsurprised when a Joe Wilson type plots to gain notoriety and improve his campaign chances by shouting "You lie!" during a a televised address by President Obama. I figure, that's what he and his ilk do. Grandstand and make themselves known. I don't like that he did it. I don't like him, for many reasons beyond his politician-ness. But I feel pretty much the same way about President Obama, and President Bush before him, and Senator McCain and, well ... politicians in general.

They're too good at being human.