By the time you read this, I will be gone.
Well, the me that is right now, will be gone.
Time marches on and all that jazz. And how we change every second. Deep shit.
Say, did you ever see that one story....I can't remember if it was an '80's Twilight Zone, or Amazing Stories, or something. It was all about a guy that stepped out of time accidentally somehow, and he was stuck in a future time, something like 12:05 to be exact. The gag of the story was that each minute of every day was a seperate 'world' so to speak. Each 'minute world' had to be built from scratch. Everyone would appear in it for one minute, and then move on to the next minute, abandoning this whole world.
I remember one of the jokes told by the head worker guy, "You know how you just know you put your keys on the table? But when you look, they are gone? But then when you look again in a few minutes, they are back again? That was us, screwing up."
It was real strange.
I don't know why I thought of that.
Tomorrow's Fritz365 debacle, is about the disappointment of Friday the 13th, and every other significant day for that matter. Enjoy.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Trips Seussian
I'm afraid I've brushed against some Seussian rhythm on one. I sort of try not to consciously copy other authors or poets in style. But it happens. My wife claims that some of mine sound sort of Shel Silverstein-y. Certainly not a copy, but some flavor I guess. Funny thing is: I've never read much Silverstein. I mean, I read the Giving Tree, along with everyone else, and a few others over the years. But I didn't sit down with any of his anthology books. As far as any one poet, I think I've read more Robert Service than anyone else. And I certainly can't write much like him at all. Although, reading his anthologies.....some of his kinda sucked too. Makes me feel better. As far as that goes.
Well, see tomorrows debacle for more on the Fritz365 poetry blog: #127 The Red and the Blue.
Whomever so should read this, know that I love you
Well, see tomorrows debacle for more on the Fritz365 poetry blog: #127 The Red and the Blue.
Whomever so should read this, know that I love you
Fear and Moving On
I would like to relate a short incident in my life.
When I was younger, and single, I had a 1974 Harley Davidson Sportster. It's not really important what it was, but I'm saying anyways. It was a very impractical bike for me to own, as it was old, unreliable, and not comfortable at all except for short rides. At the time, I had (as today) a 39 mile commute to work. I didn't ride it every day certainly, but I did ride it often.
On one particular morning, I was running late. And was riding quite fast, the weather was chilly, even though it was June ( as mornings in Michigan on Lake Huron often are). I came upon a line of five cars just before a big golf course, about ten miles into my ride. The traffic going the other way was pretty heavy, and I had to wait a few minutes to get an opening to pass, and it wasn't a big one. So I kicked that Harley down a gear, and laid into the throttle. I don't know how fast I was going, due to excessive vibration, and a faulty speedometer. Suffice it to say I was probably going over 80mph. I had just gotten past the fourth car.
And that's when the deer jumped in front of me.
The deer was moving fast towards the lake, it landed right in front of me, and kept on running. I missed it by a couple of feet. I'm certain that the car's driver next to me was equally horrified by the deers sudden appearance, and disappearance.
I momentarily backed off the gas, but immediately opened it up again. I had cars coming at me in the oncoming lane.
After completing my pass. I had some contemplative moments inside my helmet. As I motored on to work.
My fear had peaked as the deer was in front of me, and I backed off the gas. The fear disappeared, as I snapped the throttle back open.
I can't explain it. It was one of the handful of times in my life, that I was fully aware that I was a few feet from death. It was there, then it was gone.
I still ride motorcycles. On those same roads.
It reminded me that I was mortal, but not to dwell on it too much, or you'll get yourself killed by the next thing coming at you. I guess.
When I was younger, and single, I had a 1974 Harley Davidson Sportster. It's not really important what it was, but I'm saying anyways. It was a very impractical bike for me to own, as it was old, unreliable, and not comfortable at all except for short rides. At the time, I had (as today) a 39 mile commute to work. I didn't ride it every day certainly, but I did ride it often.
On one particular morning, I was running late. And was riding quite fast, the weather was chilly, even though it was June ( as mornings in Michigan on Lake Huron often are). I came upon a line of five cars just before a big golf course, about ten miles into my ride. The traffic going the other way was pretty heavy, and I had to wait a few minutes to get an opening to pass, and it wasn't a big one. So I kicked that Harley down a gear, and laid into the throttle. I don't know how fast I was going, due to excessive vibration, and a faulty speedometer. Suffice it to say I was probably going over 80mph. I had just gotten past the fourth car.
And that's when the deer jumped in front of me.
The deer was moving fast towards the lake, it landed right in front of me, and kept on running. I missed it by a couple of feet. I'm certain that the car's driver next to me was equally horrified by the deers sudden appearance, and disappearance.
I momentarily backed off the gas, but immediately opened it up again. I had cars coming at me in the oncoming lane.
After completing my pass. I had some contemplative moments inside my helmet. As I motored on to work.
My fear had peaked as the deer was in front of me, and I backed off the gas. The fear disappeared, as I snapped the throttle back open.
I can't explain it. It was one of the handful of times in my life, that I was fully aware that I was a few feet from death. It was there, then it was gone.
I still ride motorcycles. On those same roads.
It reminded me that I was mortal, but not to dwell on it too much, or you'll get yourself killed by the next thing coming at you. I guess.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Sounds of Speed
I've always enjoyed sounds. Sound effects recordings, events recorded in audio only.
One of my favorite recordings is on an airplane sounds record. It's an SR-71 start sequence. For those of you that aren't familiar, you don't just get jet engine sounds with this one. The old SR-71 starter units were big block V-8's, so the first thing you hear, is a pair of V-8 engines revving to redline for about 10 seconds, followed by a steadily increasing jet engine noise. It's pretty awesome.
I've got other favorites, Reno Air Race recordings, Indy 500 sounds from over the years.
I'm thinking of this today, because, as I'm at work here at the old Wurtsmith AFB in Oscoda MI, there is a racing team using the runway for some high speed testing. I can't tell exactly who they are, It's a yellow Corvette racing up and down the runway over and over, and they've got a massive big rig hauler painted up in black and yellow, featuring the corvette logo crossed flags.
The sound, is amazing. It sounds like NASCAR out here. Slamming the car up through the gears, and then winding it out on the top end for a mile or so, before slowing down, hanging a U turn, and doing it again. I can glimpse the car occasionally through the gaps in the blast fences, and it is really moving, 150 mph +. I can't tell exactly.
Thought I'd share, it's the little things that get us through. Cheers everyone.
One of my favorite recordings is on an airplane sounds record. It's an SR-71 start sequence. For those of you that aren't familiar, you don't just get jet engine sounds with this one. The old SR-71 starter units were big block V-8's, so the first thing you hear, is a pair of V-8 engines revving to redline for about 10 seconds, followed by a steadily increasing jet engine noise. It's pretty awesome.
I've got other favorites, Reno Air Race recordings, Indy 500 sounds from over the years.
I'm thinking of this today, because, as I'm at work here at the old Wurtsmith AFB in Oscoda MI, there is a racing team using the runway for some high speed testing. I can't tell exactly who they are, It's a yellow Corvette racing up and down the runway over and over, and they've got a massive big rig hauler painted up in black and yellow, featuring the corvette logo crossed flags.
The sound, is amazing. It sounds like NASCAR out here. Slamming the car up through the gears, and then winding it out on the top end for a mile or so, before slowing down, hanging a U turn, and doing it again. I can glimpse the car occasionally through the gaps in the blast fences, and it is really moving, 150 mph +. I can't tell exactly.
Thought I'd share, it's the little things that get us through. Cheers everyone.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
My worst birthday
I know it's more than a little emo to comment on something like this, but my most recent birthday was the worst one I've ever had. :(
Nothing bad happened on it, nothing good happened on it. Basically, nothing happened.
I turned 40 years old in February 2011, and my wife had turned the same age almost a month earlier. She did not want to acknowledge it, she associated it with very negative feelings "the big 4-0" and all that. I, on the other hand, didn't feel that way at all. I've always liked my birthdays, turning 40 was no different.
I won't go into it too deeply, I had three people wish me happy birthday: My wife, who said it once, my aunt, who left it on Facebook, and my mother, who called me. My kids didn't remember it. We have a birthday calendar at work, and nobody noticed it was my birthday. None of my friends remembered.
Granted, I didn't tell anyone. I was just hoping someone would remember, it would have made me very happy. As it was, I manned up, but I still felt like crying. See? I told you this was emo as hell.
It was just a huge miss I guess. There was a small party on the Sunday before my birthday, mainly for my twin children, who's birthday is three days after mine. This happened for various reasons, but, I had to leave for work before the cake came out even. So, sadness.
Now, every time someone at work makes a fuss, saying "What will you get me for my birthday?" or whatever. I just get super annoyed, and think about how nobody noticed my birthday. Even though I didn't tell anyone.
I guess it's a little laughable when I put down on paper, so to speak. But, I'm still counting my 40th, as my worst birthday. Even though I don't think about it, unless someone reminds me of it.
Cheers all, no worries!
Nothing bad happened on it, nothing good happened on it. Basically, nothing happened.
I turned 40 years old in February 2011, and my wife had turned the same age almost a month earlier. She did not want to acknowledge it, she associated it with very negative feelings "the big 4-0" and all that. I, on the other hand, didn't feel that way at all. I've always liked my birthdays, turning 40 was no different.
I won't go into it too deeply, I had three people wish me happy birthday: My wife, who said it once, my aunt, who left it on Facebook, and my mother, who called me. My kids didn't remember it. We have a birthday calendar at work, and nobody noticed it was my birthday. None of my friends remembered.
Granted, I didn't tell anyone. I was just hoping someone would remember, it would have made me very happy. As it was, I manned up, but I still felt like crying. See? I told you this was emo as hell.
It was just a huge miss I guess. There was a small party on the Sunday before my birthday, mainly for my twin children, who's birthday is three days after mine. This happened for various reasons, but, I had to leave for work before the cake came out even. So, sadness.
Now, every time someone at work makes a fuss, saying "What will you get me for my birthday?" or whatever. I just get super annoyed, and think about how nobody noticed my birthday. Even though I didn't tell anyone.
I guess it's a little laughable when I put down on paper, so to speak. But, I'm still counting my 40th, as my worst birthday. Even though I don't think about it, unless someone reminds me of it.
Cheers all, no worries!
Friday, April 22, 2011
Forgot what day it is!
Holy cow, I forgot that this was Easter weekend! I've had a little thing in the back of my brain to try to do season appropriate pieces on the poetry blog. And, this being Good Friday, I dropped the ball.
Although, todays #112, could be interpreted as something dying a little. As they say, you die a little every day, in a million different little ways.
I promise, and I've already written it, to have something more Easter-y tomorrow, and on Easter.
Tomorrow's bit, will have to do with a time travelling Doubting Thomas. And I'm saying this here, it's not a half bad idea for a book or movie, so I'm claiming the idea, now, today.
"I Fred Robel, thought of a story about a man travelling back in time, named Thomas, who followed Jesus, and became known as Doubting Thomas ~ April 22, 2011"
There, let someone rip me off now, hahaha!
I'm thinking something about Were Rabbits for Easter. I haven't worked it out yet.
Just remember, I love all One of you that reads this.
Cheers
Although, todays #112, could be interpreted as something dying a little. As they say, you die a little every day, in a million different little ways.
I promise, and I've already written it, to have something more Easter-y tomorrow, and on Easter.
Tomorrow's bit, will have to do with a time travelling Doubting Thomas. And I'm saying this here, it's not a half bad idea for a book or movie, so I'm claiming the idea, now, today.
"I Fred Robel, thought of a story about a man travelling back in time, named Thomas, who followed Jesus, and became known as Doubting Thomas ~ April 22, 2011"
There, let someone rip me off now, hahaha!
I'm thinking something about Were Rabbits for Easter. I haven't worked it out yet.
Just remember, I love all One of you that reads this.
Cheers
Thursday, April 21, 2011
I am not Mark Twain
I'll say it again, I am not Mark Twain. Not even close, that isn't what I'm saying at all.
What I AM thinking, is that I can finally start to understand a lot of his works, in their context. When he writes stories such as Huck Finn, and includes all the racist talk, and the general flavor of moments. He isn't necessarily being literal, but he is lampooning the situation by placing on a pedastal and showing how ridiculous and over the top some attitudes and customs can be.
I find myself doing that today. Probably not well. And taken out of context, this piece is awful, and plainly says I need therapy, before I hurt someone.
But I'm not supporting such activity or attitudes. I'm making fun of them, I'm showing how ridiculous, how over the top they can be. In my own small way, with my limited example.
So it's the tiniest whisper of what Mr. Clements did. Although certainly not the same.
Check out #112 Blames The Victim, on the morrow. Decide for yourself.
What I AM thinking, is that I can finally start to understand a lot of his works, in their context. When he writes stories such as Huck Finn, and includes all the racist talk, and the general flavor of moments. He isn't necessarily being literal, but he is lampooning the situation by placing on a pedastal and showing how ridiculous and over the top some attitudes and customs can be.
I find myself doing that today. Probably not well. And taken out of context, this piece is awful, and plainly says I need therapy, before I hurt someone.
But I'm not supporting such activity or attitudes. I'm making fun of them, I'm showing how ridiculous, how over the top they can be. In my own small way, with my limited example.
So it's the tiniest whisper of what Mr. Clements did. Although certainly not the same.
Check out #112 Blames The Victim, on the morrow. Decide for yourself.
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