tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-38174145490387475992024-02-02T05:31:21.961-08:00Ramblings from an Untrained MindLarry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.comBlogger96125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-52594894256850533292012-11-25T12:51:00.000-08:002012-11-26T05:53:56.868-08:00The End of the Couponer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbvwzL-hu5w51Meahh_GO73QlGkuqGnrwxX9YZW180n7HNp5sm3PbEIc89kIe_oYyPlml0bEZQHhzr5DxkS2nB4iE0lvxBYYqZQ_LUFIbJJ6j9ORJZZhAfow4qvtYHSzrJQOqUGU6SSCJk/s1600/images(3).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbvwzL-hu5w51Meahh_GO73QlGkuqGnrwxX9YZW180n7HNp5sm3PbEIc89kIe_oYyPlml0bEZQHhzr5DxkS2nB4iE0lvxBYYqZQ_LUFIbJJ6j9ORJZZhAfow4qvtYHSzrJQOqUGU6SSCJk/s1600/images(3).jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">I made a decision today that now changes a nearly lifelong habit.<br /><br />As a little boy - after my parents' divorce - we were poor. We had lost our house (well, I had lost my house - since what ever little bit of equity might have been in a two-year old newly built home was divvied up in a divorce settlement). After about four or five months of living at my grandparents', we moved into a townhouse apartment. A few years later, it was time to start giving me an allowance. Chores was one way (emptying the dishwasher, helping with laundry, taking out the trash, etc.). Another way was ingenious and began a long-lived habit. <br /><br />My mother decided - most likely in an effort to teach me the value of money in addition to helping our grocery bill - that I could make additional allowance money but cutting out coupons for her to use at the market... but only for things that she was going to buy anyway. I received the face value of the coupon as part of my allowance. <br /><br />While today that would mean minimally 35 cents here or 50 cents there. Sometimes a 75 cent-ers or a $1 as well. Until recently, Ralph's would offer double coupons - which I'm sure I would have benefitted from! But back in my allowance days, coupons were only 5 cents or 7 cents. I think 10 cents was the max. I don't recall any higher, but there may have been. I could sometimes persuade my Mom to buy a more expensive brand if my coupon reduced it to the same or less than her normal brand. <br /><br />When I moved out on my own, coupons became the norm for me. I would cut them and save them in a envelope that I would bring to the store with me. <br /><br />When I moved to Los Angeles 20 years ago, it turned into such a big thing for me. I upgraded to a 5x8 file box with section dividers. My Mom would mail me coupons from the Philadelphia area as I had discovered that oft times they would be higher amounts than my LA versions. 50/75 Cents were the norm. $1 coupons were frequent. Double coupons was the norm - along with occasional Triple Coupon days! - and I could increase savings by only buying itms when they were on sale AND with a coupon. I could save over 60% off my total grocery bill on each trip.<br /><br />There were times when Ralph's (my store of choice due mainly to their Double-Coupons Everyday policy) would have store coupons in their circulars or mailers - and their policy allowed for use of both store coupons and manufacturer coupons at the same time! <br /><br />Sometimes the use of my coupons resulted in me saving more than the cost of the item. I'd actually make money by taking an item home! I'd go through the store circulars and figure out where to shop for the best savings. I'd go between Von's and Ralph's and a produce market. Mambo Sprouts was coupon booklet that I received in the mail with lots of healthy and natural and organic brands. These were added to my arsenal of savings as well. <br /><br />These were truly halcyon days for grocery savings. <br /><br />It all began to crumble during a major five-month long supermarket strike during the Winter of 2003/4. My couponing was curtailed and I ended up shopping at Trader Joe's (a non-striking market) most of the time. I fell in love with them, but with few national brands, coupons had no place. <br /><br />When the strike ended, things were never quite the same. <br /><br />Ralph's quietly altered their Double-Coupon Policy to limit savings to no more than $1 savings per coupon. A 75 cents off coupon would only 'double' an additional 25 cents to cap it at $1. Huge change that they simply added as fine print, while still advertising Double Coupons Everyday! <br /><br />I got healthier and started eating better. Gone were most national brands giving Trader Joe's more of my business and leaving fewer and fewer coupons worth being cut by me. <br /><br />Flash forward to today. I shop at Ralph's less than once a month - except for a quick trip in for their store brand Non-Dairy Creamer. The Mambo Sprouts mailer has ceased production. Ralph's Double-Coupon Policy has quietly disappeared altogether. To add insult to injury, coupon face values have dropped down into 25/35/50 Cent ranges again. <br /><br />This morning's Sunday paper yielded no new coupons being cut out. A look through my (now 18-year old) coupon box revealed a handful of expired coupons from last month and a total of about 12 left - all due to expire by December 31, 2012. <br /><br />There is no reason to continue. <br /><br />So, mark the date. After nearly four decades - 80% of my life - the Couponer that began as a young boy, is putting his scissors away, stashing the old beige box in the back room, and calling it a day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791433854481704028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-14505245281906859122012-08-06T11:53:00.002-07:002012-08-06T11:59:31.115-07:00The Two Planes of Existence<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf76Dv-WMPz40ZsEmLYlzYEOGDpRPxYUQLSBtPLd3evgbeqjsGptPO_6185j4u5ejCWbNQTdapRy2v1wVDU7aDrtLASbx5HXGBSYr9ysxK-7vq_olzl_I2KfbF8JndPhE7u4SjJaxxTy3b/s1600/images(5).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf76Dv-WMPz40ZsEmLYlzYEOGDpRPxYUQLSBtPLd3evgbeqjsGptPO_6185j4u5ejCWbNQTdapRy2v1wVDU7aDrtLASbx5HXGBSYr9ysxK-7vq_olzl_I2KfbF8JndPhE7u4SjJaxxTy3b/s1600/images(5).jpg" /> </span></a><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Time to break a 10-month silence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Being seen and not heard is really not something I do well. On the contrary, it's something I vehemently rebel against!" - LDW 2012</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">That quote of mine is what triggered this. I firmly believe that there are three types of humans on this planet.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">One type consists of the vast majority of the human race which keeps itself in a self-created rat race. They wake, eat, work, chores, relax and sleep. It is ultimately a mundane routine that due to the structures of society, we are mostly all forced to adhere to.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Within this "average day" we encounter petty politics, peons clambering over other peons to simply be higher on the pile of shit we've created for ourselves. We cling to ancient ideas and concepts that are ultimately meaningless... some created to give comfort to the masses, but most created to control the masses by those same higher-shit pile peons we battle everyday.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Meaningless.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Go to the supermarket and - if you can - take a step back from your cereal buying or melon thumping and WATCH. Look around and you will see it. Like ants in a farm or fish in a tank... dozens of people mindlessly going about their business. Hamsters on a wheel blindly following guidelines set forth for them eons ago. Blissfully ignorant of any other way. Oblivious to the world around round.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">For most people, this is Life. This is all there is. They live, they die. If they are lucky, they make a ripple or two in their immediate circle pond, but their impact on the planet is that of a grain of sand on a vast beach. Meaningless in the big picture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sadly, this group is where ALL criminals dwell. All bullies live and thrive here. All dictators and despots. Everyone who needs to control others to support their own lives.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">How do we avoid getting sucked into the whirlpool of mundane or worse, into a life controlled by others? How do we reside on the higher plane?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">For those who can ascend and dwell on the higher plane, they would make up the second group. A very small group who are looked up to and revered - and rightly so. Think Dalai Lama or Mother Teresa. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">They personally have no need for laws or even your average societal structure, they see each other for who they are and they live on a tenet of mutual respect. They follow their hearts, know what is right, and do not succumb to early primal norms. There is no higher power for them (regardless of what they might outwardly profess). They and their brethren are supreme. They sometimes live alone as a small group. On a mountaintop perhaps. Tibet anyone?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Being able to live like this would be true Utopia. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Sadly, to interact with society, the vast majority can only visit this plane in short intervals. They have to come back down, lowing themselves again to average human levels. These are the straddlers - the third group.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">A small group of beings on this spinning rock that actually comprehend this on a regular basis but cannot seem to separate themselves fully - or chose not to. They can take a step back and watch as this endless cycle of life continues - unbeknownst to the humans in the first group actually engaged in it, but then rejoin to masses to work their magic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Some have done this better than others... Ben Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Albert Einstein, Steve Jobs. Their ripples affect a great many ponds and they have a lasting effect on society for a very many generations to come.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Humbly I state that this is the group I find myself in. It saddens me and truly upsets me to realize that. It annoys me to have to step back and it perturbs me - for the most part - to interact with the rest of society who just don't get it; who don't truly understand - who continue to dwell in their primitive lives clinging to their primitive ideals. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">For those of us who can step back... who recognize this... we know existence can be so much more.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">The trick is how do we step back and stay back for extended periods of time?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Besides living alone or on that mountain in Tibet, we can do our own form of meditation. I've traveled alone to Peru and hiked the Inca Trail for four days - dwelling in my own head for most of the trip. It was fabulous. I sometimes wish I could chuck my life as it is and do something singular like hike around the world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So what can we do?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Try to step-back more times than not. Think before you speak - understand what you're responding to before you respond to it (something I wish I was better at!). Don't point out how meaningless peoples lives are to them... they won't believe you and just think you're being mean - you cannot force someone out of their primitive closet, they have to first experience self-realization and then they can decide to step into the light on their own.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The world is not what it seems... and the more people realize this and can join the few of us who get it, the better this life will be for everyone.</span><br />
<br />Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09791433854481704028noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-73789375517823987222011-10-05T21:02:00.000-07:002011-10-05T21:02:36.656-07:00Life & Death & Change<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0RDQjG3oqUQ/To0nAaMQTbI/AAAAAAAAAeI/HqHMIqdalIw/s1600/images%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0RDQjG3oqUQ/To0nAaMQTbI/AAAAAAAAAeI/HqHMIqdalIw/s200/images%25282%2529.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Today it rained. Rain of course is not a common occurrence in Los Angeles. It was a cold rain (my least favorite of all of the rains). It caused my world to change... ever so slightly, but change it did. Minor alterations.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I had to wear long pants today. And a sweater. And I kept my doors and windows closed. I enjoyed my coffee a bit more on this nippy morn and I postponed some errands to avoid going out in the rain.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bradley had to walk in the rain (which he hates) and it further necessitated my juggling an umbrella along with his leash and my iPod. I even wore a sweatshirt. (Bradley, by the way, it not a fan of rain either... he avoids puddles and walks close to me to stay under the umbrella).</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Later in the day, Steve Jobs died. (To paraphrase a friend of mine who posted this: "Thank you for knowing what I wanted before I knew I wanted it.")</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Shortly after that, I got a call about a temporary job offer that could last a few months.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What does this all mean? How do these relate?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As the day wound down, I realized that in retrospect, this day was not really unlike any other day. It was merely your average routine day, but on any given day the routine is hardly that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We face weather daily and adjust to it. We hear news that's good or bad... about politics or money or life or death. This might cause us to think about something differently. We receive phone calls that change or alter what we do... an invitation, a request or just a conversation that causes us to do something.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">These changes - no matter how big or how small - alter the ripples of our world. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">My point is, we are all on a course that is not set in stone. Our course can change from moment to moment. It is all fleeting and temporary and very fluid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just keep that in mind the next time something is not going as you hope... it could change a moment's notice - it might be changing now and you've yet to realize it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Open your eyes. Breathe. Relax. Smile. Enjoy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans. -- John Lennon</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">=October Job Hunt=</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">10/01 (Sat) - Applied online as a Production Coordinator for E! Entertainment Television.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">10/02 (Sun) - Answered an ad for an Executive Assistant to two show runners for a television series.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">10/03 (Mon) - Answered an ad for someone with mad Excel/Word skills for a project in Glendale.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">10/04 (Tues) - Reviewed Job Boards for NBC, Paramount, Warner Bros., DreamWorks Animation, Sony Animation, and the Walt Disney Company, Applied online for the Universal Pictures Leadership Program.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">10/05 (Weds) - Receive a call about a temporary position covering for a Maternity Leave (four months). More details to follow.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-69366187877434398732011-10-03T22:46:00.000-07:002011-10-03T22:53:51.326-07:00Taking A Step Back<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U5lWtpoOzXw/ToqbISqROEI/AAAAAAAAAd4/F-Dtp2K27Yk/s1600/images%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-U5lWtpoOzXw/ToqbISqROEI/AAAAAAAAAd4/F-Dtp2K27Yk/s1600/images%25282%2529.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The World is a very big place, yet most times we only see a small portion of that world. Most people cannot see beyond the edges of the bubble they live in.</span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">A few years ago I was chatting with a Photographer. He was having a problem focusing on his work. He took lots of pictures and wanted to be a Photographer, but was lost as to why he took them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I told him that there must be something singular in what caught his eye or he wouldn't be snapping away. He just needed to recognize it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">An objective eye can do that. You really just need to be able to step back and look - that is the talent... stepping back. Be able to do that and it will become your greatest asset if you can master it... most people can't.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The next time you are in the supermarket take a look around... watch the people. Most are oblivious to the world around them - trapped (naively and stupidly happy) in their own little bubble. They probably won't even notice you watching them. </span><span style="font-size: large;">They will continue this way through the rest of their lives until they die.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">They are unable to step back and see the bigger picture.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">And that's OK... the big picture is not for everyone.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I went on to tell the Photographer to take a look at a pile of his pictures (and to have some post-it notes handy). Look at each one and jot down the FIRST thing that catches his eye. Write it down on the post-it then look at the series. I bet him that the common denominator would reveal itself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sadly, I know not the outcome of this exercise, but I bet today he's a better, focused (no pun intended) Photographer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We all need to learn to take that step back. Don't simply continue to go through the motions of your life without taking that moment to assess the world around you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">See the bigger picture.</span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: xx-small;">=October Job Hunt=</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">10/01 (Sat) - Apply online as a Production Coordinator for E! Entertainment Television.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">10/02 (Sun) - Answer an ad for an Executive Assistant to two show runners for a television series.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">10/03 (Mon) - Answer an ad for someone with mad Excel/Word skills for a project in Glendale.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-70263942869618328172011-10-03T13:12:00.000-07:002011-10-03T13:13:46.996-07:00A Singular Symbol of Strength<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uUmHY3BPkx8/TooHqe373bI/AAAAAAAAAdg/x9xIfYiylEU/s1600/images%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uUmHY3BPkx8/TooHqe373bI/AAAAAAAAAdg/x9xIfYiylEU/s320/images%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Tree.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">A singular symbol of strength. Visually simplistic in design from afar, this ever-growing structure of life is nothing less than admirable in its complexity. Such is life. Both are a fascinating and mesmerizing thing.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jwk7XAZVUG8/TooDgG_k6nI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/LF7t30b8id4/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jwk7XAZVUG8/TooDgG_k6nI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/LF7t30b8id4/s200/photo.JPG" width="150" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"> Consider the humble trunk. This thick, strong cylindrical base rises up from the soil and supports what rises above. Yet as solid and strong as the trunk may appear, what lays beneath the soil may be a twisted confused mass of roots - from thick tendrils to wispy hairs. But these not only anchor the tree firmly to the Earth, they reach out to absorb a constant supply of nutrients and fluids to sustain that which is more visible.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x6QOjC16rRQ/TooGm1bXIgI/AAAAAAAAAdY/jJvfOb1ehq8/s1600/185755_10150094113427909_614327908_6281380_1216798_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x6QOjC16rRQ/TooGm1bXIgI/AAAAAAAAAdY/jJvfOb1ehq8/s200/185755_10150094113427909_614327908_6281380_1216798_n.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Not all trunks emerge as gracefully from the ground, though. Some actually give us a glimpse of the turmoil that lays below the surface. From twisted chaos grows singular strength. There may be conflict there, but its future will be an eventual resolution into a majestic, living and breathing entity. What comes next is - for me - where the magic lies.</span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FTB9x70FGi0/TooJPrhth8I/AAAAAAAAAdo/g8sj5TnlJ-0/s1600/images%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FTB9x70FGi0/TooJPrhth8I/AAAAAAAAAdo/g8sj5TnlJ-0/s1600/images%25283%2529.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="rg_ctlv">Socotra Dragon Tree</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">From the solid and stoic trunk emerges a network of branches that dart out in every direction, oft times in what may appear to be a haphazard and random way. But random is rarely what the tree actually does. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Its seeming randomness tends to be necessitated more by outside forces that cause it to adapt. A branch may suddenly change its course - alter its direction - possibly due to encountering a shadow it wants to avoid as it continues to reach skyward.</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PnEjMB7uLjQ/TooQOsO1hFI/AAAAAAAAAdw/sGu-BljXDsM/s1600/images%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PnEjMB7uLjQ/TooQOsO1hFI/AAAAAAAAAdw/sGu-BljXDsM/s320/images%25285%2529.jpg" width="212" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">And what we encounter up there is nothing less than magical! Ever-growing paper thin little sprouts that unfurl into a complex design that not only add an entirely new dimension of beauty, but engage in complex processes triggered by the warmth of the sun. They breath in our excess waste carbon dioxide and exhale the absolutely vital oxygen needed to sustain our life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As I said, to me a tree is </span><span style="font-size: large;">a fascinating and mesmerizing thing.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Life is often like a Tree. Our tangled and seemingly chaotic beginnings (roots) come together into our singular identity (trunk) which in time can diverge in very many directions as life throws us variables that cause us to adapt and change </span><span style="font-size: large;"> (branches), ultimately rising above it all to unfurl ourselves into the majestic entity we show the world (our leafy canopy). This is what we </span><span style="font-size: large;">are meant to be </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I - like the tree - am a </span><span style="font-size: large;">singular symbol of strength... </span><span style="font-size: large;">from twisted chaos grows that singular strength. </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-small;">=October Job Hunt=</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">10/01 (Sat) - Apply online as a Production Coordinator for E! Entertainment Television.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">10/02 (Sun) - Apply online as an Executive Assistant to two show runners for a television series. </span></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-23143338255399146242011-10-01T13:01:00.000-07:002011-10-01T13:05:32.572-07:00A Stalled Life?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5eiCqLKyRF8/TodvGwid5tI/AAAAAAAAAdI/UJhe6An3GNI/s1600/index.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="142" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5eiCqLKyRF8/TodvGwid5tI/AAAAAAAAAdI/UJhe6An3GNI/s200/index.jpg" style="color: #990000;" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As October begins, I find myself with a sense that my life has stalled... and it needs a jump start!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">There is one over-riding cause for this malaise... unemployment. Thus far, 19 weeks of unemployment and the sense of freedom that initially permeates one's life when the shackles of a 9-5/M-F work week are removed, has long ago worn off. Tedium as set in.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Each morning when I rise I think, "Now what?" I've lost a sense of purpose. Where do I turn? What do I do next? Mild depression like a coat of dust in a empty house begins to coat everything. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Things I used to find enjoyable are no longer worth the effort. Weekends have no meaning for me... everyday is a weekend! I'm irritable, grumpy, short-tempered and blah - all on a regular basis. My passions are gone and have been replaced with silent stares, sighs and lots of sitting. Projects are half completed, everything is an effort, and nothing seems to give me a feeling of accomplishment.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">How do I shake this? How do I move forward? How do I break the spell of complacency and kick-start my life once again?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Well... <sigh>. I don't know. But, I'll start with trying to force myself to do something consistent on a daily basis.</sigh></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Therefore, welcome to "Blogtoberfest 2011" - a daily blog similar to Blogapaloozza from July 2009. This will be a reason to complete at least one task a day, exercise the creative mind and spend some quality time thinking.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I will NOT dwell on my employment situation, but as a curiosity and as a sort of a diary, I will document my daily job search actions and results in an ongoing listing at the bottom of each blog... they may not be much, but may become and interesting and telling track record of one man's attempt to find a job during this ongoing 2011 Recession.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I hope you find it at least mildly amusing and entertaining. Until tomorrow...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;">=October Job Hunt=</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">10/01 - Apply online as a Production Coordinator for E! Entertainment Television.</span></span><br />
Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-7463757401259156402011-04-26T17:30:00.000-07:002011-04-26T17:30:08.231-07:00Perhaps A Crossroads?<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S4b7kXJS7TM/TbdPoDSdEfI/AAAAAAAAAdA/A_2TBcMMEE4/s1600/index.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-S4b7kXJS7TM/TbdPoDSdEfI/AAAAAAAAAdA/A_2TBcMMEE4/s1600/index.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">It isn't often in life you find yourself at a crossroads. I'm not talking about simple choices like <i>'do I go to the gym or do I go get ice cream'</i> - I'm talking the big, life-altering choices that don't present themselves every day.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I presently find myself at just one of these junctures - this one being career related.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">If you don't know me (or to recap it for those who do), I've spent:</span><br />
<ul><li><span style="font-size: large;">Four years in the US Navy on Submarines as a Yeoman;</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Six months as a Fashion Jewelry Consultant (ick);</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Six years in Music Retail (including work at one of Long Island's first "CD Only" chains); </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Six months as a Costumed Party Performer (<i>"Hi boys and girls... I'm Barney!"</i>);</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Three years as a Production Associate for Television Documentaries and Children's Specials;</span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Nine years as a Paralegal in Animation; and </span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;">Six years as a Production Coordinator and Supervisor for Feature Animation Production (phew!).</span></li>
</ul><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But what to do next?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Do I continue in Animation Production? Do I try my hand at Writing? I would love to work with Children. What about my passion for Food (albeit, mostly the <i>eating</i> of food!)?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Decisions, decisions. A wonderful yet frightening position to be in. It isn't often that we get an opportunity to reinvent ourselves. Most of my past career shifts were necessitated by circumstances beyond my control... selling Jewelry so not for me, the CD Experience closed, a Party Performer is only paid so much, the Documentary company was purchased by Disney and then phased out... although I will say that the shift from Animation Legal to Animation Production was me seizing my own Destiny and I have zero regrets for that one.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Is this now one of those times again? Will Destiny disguise herself as Opportunity and rap upon my door?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">What would it be like to be a Food Critic? A Children's Book Author? A Kindergarten/Elementary School Teacher? What about Non-Profit work? Maybe it's time to give back to the world? Feed the hungry? Shelter the homeless? Put a smile on the face of a child?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Can I do these any of these things and still pay my rent?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Where to turn, how to begin?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We all have a perception of who we are and we all get into routines that occupy our days. Sometimes, days turn into weeks and weeks into months and months into years... a decade goes by in the wink of an eye.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I have nothing profound to conclude this blog with. It's a mental dump... a Rambling from an (as yet) Untrained Mind (if you will).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">...to be continued...</span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-36970431527534638142011-02-05T21:38:00.000-08:002011-02-05T21:38:38.565-08:00The Taming Of The Flu, Part II - Lessons Learned<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TU4iRuQDClI/AAAAAAAAAc4/NjVJnAuZcTc/s1600/images%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TU4iRuQDClI/AAAAAAAAAc4/NjVJnAuZcTc/s200/images%25285%2529.jpg" width="149" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">In the moments of semi-consciousness during my recent battle with Influenza (see, <a href="http://weisbergrant.blogspot.com/2011/02/taming-of-flu.html">The Taming Of The Flu, Part I</a>), the fragility of life became quite apparent. Some seemingly insignificant virus had attacked my body and had attacked hard. For the first time in my memory, I lost the battle. My system was over-whelmed by these microscopic invaders. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am no longer invincible. My presumed immortality must be questioned. I find a different me gazing back in the mirror. The cape is off. The vulnerability to kryptonite has been made apparent. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> Interestingly, other than my new-found revelations, there are no outward signs of the trauma I had just experienced. Not even a pin-prick hole where blood was drawn or where the IV that pumped four bags of life-restoring fluids had been (both holes as they missed the vein the first time).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Life. The balance is surprisingly delicate.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh sure, we hear the stories all the time of people who survive tragedy and trauma: trapped coal miners; coma-wakers; natural disaster rescuees; organ-replacement recipients; heart-attack, stroke and cancer survivors; dialysis patients... </span><span style="font-size: large;">In the pantheon of such, my little episode is nary a blip. A relatively</span><span style="font-size: large;"> insignificant fainting spell that was subsequently and easily corrected by forcing a drink of water into my body.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">How small it can also make one feel.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I hope never to forget those few frightening moments. I want to see them as a wake-up call to change my ways. Silly, I know... these are the things that people say after a life-and-death event. But in those first few moments after regained semi-consciousness... those moments when I could hear all but had not the energy to respond or to even simply open my eyes... I was afraid. Those few moments of simply not knowing what was wrong or what had happened to me were scary.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Life is fragile and temporary. It should be treated as sacred. Our bodies should be taken care of. We are the caretakers of the vessels that hold our essence. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In retrospect, I had just experienced a moment when the essence was awake, but the vessel had been felled. If the vessel could not be repaired, I won't swear that the essence has an alternative. I'd like to think it does. I'd like to think it can go on without the vessel... possibly finding a future vessel to reside in. That's where I draw my comfort in moments of true uncertainty.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Take care of yourselves. You are all you've got.</span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-89192994516124921712011-02-05T14:17:00.000-08:002011-02-05T20:18:26.514-08:00The Taming Of The Flu, Part I - Felled By The Virus<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TU3Gvw-Iy-I/AAAAAAAAAcw/5dozEC6f5_E/s1600/images%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TU3Gvw-Iy-I/AAAAAAAAAcw/5dozEC6f5_E/s200/images%25284%2529.jpg" width="198" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">After only ten minutes in the Urgent Care waiting room, I collapsed and began an unexpected journey over the next few hours. Influenza is nothing to take lightly. The cutesy name 'flu' does not begin to describe how serious this virus can be. What had seemed to start a mere-48 hours prior, had now felled me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am normally sniffly and sneezy. I've had allergies for my entire life; seven years of injections, countless prescriptions and over-the-counter pharmaceuticals, herbals and dietary changes, acupuncture, acupressure, neti-pot flushes... nothing cures the constant nasal drip, congestion and throat misery (my karaoke days sadly ended three years ago).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So on Sunday night when my throat was feeling a bit more mucousy than normal, I sucked on a few cough drops during a Classical Concert. Monday morning, I awoke at 6AM per my norm and after walking the pooch, showering and shaving, I headed in to work.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Come 11AM, I felt a bit draggy. My head was getting foggy and all I wanted to do was go home and lay down... which I do. Popping an Antihistamine, Guaifenesin (Mucinex), a Decongestant and Ibuprofen every four hours (for the ensuing body aches), I curl up in bed. 3AM brings not only another does of my capsule cocktail, but shivers and shakes. I take my temp and it's only 98.0. This IS a temperature for me as I normally run about 97.5.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Calling in sick for Tuesday, I spend the bulk of the day in bed, except for making a couple eggs and getting up for two 16 oz glasses of hot tea, leftover Pho from the night before, a can of chicken soup, a leftover breast/thigh/leg from Saturday night's chicken and a few other 16 oz glasses of water. But I'm not making progress. Still popping pills every four hours, my aches and pains are not subsiding, my headache is growing and I'm still feeling lousy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Mark brings over some NyQuil/DayQuil - a combination that so many swear by. Since the Ibuprofen I'd been taking hasn't helped the aches and pains, maybe the Acetaminophen will. Nope. 3AM brings chills and fever again. Still only about 98.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Wednesday starts off normally enough; coffee, a bowl of Granola, DayQuil and bed. By 1:30 the afternoon, I'm feeling like crap and ask Mark to take me to Urgent Care. I'm walking very slowly, I'm weak, don't feel like opening my eyes unless I have to and feel like I'm headed downhill. </span><span style="font-size: large;">After only ten minutes in the Urgent Care waiting room around 4PM, I begin to feel uncomfortable and a bit nauseous and hot. I just want to lay down while we wait and I begin to struggle to remove a scarf and my jacket...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">BAM!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">For the next 20 seconds or so, Mark reports that I'm grinding my teeth, my back is drenched in sweat and people are rushing around to get me into an exam room. I remember feeling people lifting me into a wheelchair and while I'm now conscious and can hear and feel everything, I find opening my eyes unnecessary and until someone asks me a direct question, I don't offer up any information.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The IV misses the first time, but the second one takes. I feel the fluid begin to enter my body as people are grilling Mark with questions and debating with each other about all sorts of things. I begin to feel like an iPhone whose battery has died... when I'm hooked up to the recharging fluids, I slowly take in the power, but it takes a few minutes before I can acknowledge signs of life. My blood pressure is taken, pulse-ox, and at some point, EMTs are summoned.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">When they arrive, seven of them take over. They change out the bag of IV fluids and begin asking me questions. Someone listens to my chest, someone pricks my finger, assorted pads are taped onto me and leads hooked up... numbers are coming back pretty normal. I begin to respond and open my eyes when needed. I vaguely remember having to sign my name to some papers - god only knows what they were about. After what feels like about 10 minutes, I'm loaded onto a gurney and transported by ambulance to the hospital ER, two or three blocks away.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In the ER, icy cold fluids are still being pumped into me, tubes of blood are drawn, nasal swab taken, EKG, X-ray, more blood pressure. I'm now fully alert. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm discharged at about 8PM with a diagnosis of dehydration due to Influenza Type A and a prescription for Tamiflu in my hand.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We all take getting sick lightly. Sure, I could blame the Healthcare System for making it so inconvenient and so expensive to see a professional. I could blame Employers (certainly NOT mine - they urged me to stay home!) who make you feel guilty for going home early or taking a sick day or don't provide adequate sick days. But the blame falls on me. 'Drink plenty of fluids' is not just a platitude. It is a medical necessity when you have a cold/flu... hell, every day. If you are not drinking your 8-glasses a day, you may be flirting with an unexpected afternoon like I experienced.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">No bueno.</span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-24901349049545323382010-10-15T21:10:00.000-07:002010-10-15T21:10:30.889-07:00Priorities - Do We Have It Wrong?<span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><div class="fbChatMessage fsm" id="msg_632437604_1765101467"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TLklEtMWfPI/AAAAAAAAAcE/L7ZgBP_f-BA/s1600/images%283%29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TLklEtMWfPI/AAAAAAAAAcE/L7ZgBP_f-BA/s1600/images%283%29.jpg" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">I don't know what's wrong with this country (rhetorical).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In my opinion, people have totally lost sight of what's important. A day off here and there for special events should be mandatory, not frowned upon. Life should be a collection of experiences. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I have much more respect for the wacky "Mame Dennis" relative than the convention followers. This goes both for missing Work or School.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Now before I begin, I'm not talking about going all 'Ferris Bueller' (if that reference doesn't mean anything to you, go rent the movie). I'm talking about events that come to town, opportunities that might mean missing a day of work or pulling a kid from school.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">For the past decade, I worked for a fun company that very few people get to work for. We'd have special events that we can invite people to. These would be considered once-in-a-lifetime type things that most people wouldn't get to do or attend (OK so they usually were twice annually, but that's not my point). Sometimes, these would mean missing a day of school if you were a kid. </span><span style="font-size: large;">These are special events that makes one's life richer in the big scheme. </span><span style="font-size: large;">To NOT miss school for one day is wrong. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But OMG, the drama that could follow these requests totally blew my mind. School is something like 180 days per year. Missing a few of them for a "life experience" should not be a crime, but should be encouraged by the schools. I mean, really... how much stuff is a kid going to miss in one day? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Really? When did our school systems suddenly get so good that the amount of knowledge gained in one day was so invaluable?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Life first. Routine second. Looking back on one's life, it will be the special events most likely remembered, not that Tuesday in November that you made sure you didn't miss school. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I think I'd prefer that my kids rack up some absentee days to live life. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>[Disclaimer: No, I am <u>not</u> yet a parent, but I suspect my feelings on this issue will not change all that much... of course if my kid's grades suck, then the incentive to bring them up is so we <u>can</u> skip school from time to time.]</i></span></div>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-8077226045504608762010-10-09T19:54:00.000-07:002010-10-09T20:01:29.075-07:00A Life Remembered - John Lennon<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TLEkB5qCtUI/AAAAAAAAAb8/JVFuG0TnZG8/s1600/images%282%29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TLEkB5qCtUI/AAAAAAAAAb8/JVFuG0TnZG8/s1600/images%282%29.jpg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">It was nearly 30 years ago today... Sgt. Pepper asked the band not to play, but to observe a moment of silence.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">John Lennon had been murdered. His voice forever silenced.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">While the details of that tragic night need not be restated here, I wanted to recall my still vivid memories of that evening.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I was in the U.S. Navy, about a month out of Boot Camp and just completed my Basic Electricity and Electronics courses in Orlando, Florida. I was out with some friends, celebrating and drinking at the club on base (I was under-21, but drinking alcohol was - and still is - legal on base for all military personnel).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Around 11PM, I stumbled back to my barracks. In the morning I was shipping out to Naval Station Great Lakes outside of Chicago to continue my schooling. I turned on the radio to listen to the news (I've been listening to all-talk/news radio since I was little boy as an aid in sleeping).</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I staggered into the bathroom on the left, flipped on the light and began to pee. Over the radio I heard the breaking news that John Lennon has been shot and that he was being rushed to the hospital. In my current state, I only half heard it and only a quarter comprehended it.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">After undressing, I climbed up into my top bunk a few minutes later. The breaking news was now updated to report that John Lennon had died. I quietly cried myself to sleep.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This entire incident only took about 15 minutes. </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The next morning when I awoke, my nightmares had been confirmed: John Lennon was dead. It touched me very deeply as this was the first of MY icons to die. While Elvis had died a few years early, he belonged to a different generation, but John was mine.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As I sit here now 30 years later, </span><span style="font-size: large;">on what would have been his 70th Birthday - </span><span style="font-size: large;">listening, enjoying and pondering his music (as I will again in two months ago on the anniversary of that tragic and senseless day), I want to again remember his legacy and his words. While he was considered by some to be a radical, he was poet who more than anything else, proffered peace and love.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I can think of no better final thought than to remind you all of the lyrics to "Imagine":</span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444433; font-size: large;">Imagine there's no heaven<br />
It's easy if you try<br />
No hell below us<br />
Above us only sky<br />
Imagine all the people<br />
Living for today...<br />
<br />
Imagine there's no countries<br />
It isn't hard to do<br />
Nothing to kill or die for<br />
And no religion too<br />
Imagine all the people<br />
Living life in peace...<br />
<br />
You may say I'm a dreamer<br />
But I'm not the only one<br />
I hope someday you'll join us<br />
And the world will be as one<br />
<br />
Imagine no possessions<br />
I wonder if you can<br />
No need for greed or hunger<br />
A brotherhood of man<br />
Imagine all the people<br />
Sharing all the world...<br />
<br />
You may say I'm a dreamer<br />
But I'm not the only one<br />
I hope someday you'll join us<br />
And the world will live as one</span><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-32379716997004510872010-09-25T18:50:00.000-07:002010-09-26T07:13:35.089-07:00"How To Bake An Apple Pie" (or, "How To Make What Looks Like A Simple Baked Good Into A Two-Hour Plus Nightmare Project With An End Result That Is... At Least Edible")<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TJ6fzWpP1LI/AAAAAAAAAbk/Zk5SSaSBuwk/s1600/1370.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the Pie that inspired me.<span style="font-size: large;"></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span style="font-size: large;">"Hey, you know what would be fun. I just saw this great looking recipe in a newsletter for an Apple Pie. It looks pretty easy and since I have a dinner party tomorrow, how cool would it be to bake this pie from scratch! The newsletter even has the recipe for the dough, which totally looks doable."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I wished someone had been around when I uttered those words so they could tie me up, lock me in my room and keep me there until the dinner party. Let me start by saying, I love to cook. Whipping up dinners with stuff in the fridge and the cabinet, tapping into all of the things I've seen on "Iron Chef" and "Top Chef" and "Good Eats" and even "Hell's Kitchen" over the years. I'm a pretty good cook.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Well let me tell you... 'cooking' and 'baking' are two completely different animals. It's probably similar to the difference between removing a tooth and removing a drain clog! In cooking, you add what you want, taste, adjust, add more, taste, adjust... ultimately, enjoy.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In baking, you measure (did they mean this line or that line... do I pack or leave loose... what does 'by weight not volume' mean! Isn't 8 oz in a measuring cup simply 8 oz?), you pray, you measure more, pray more, mix some (but not don't 'overwork it'), you pray again, you follow the recipe to the nth degree - but if it's so technical, why is every friggin' recipe is sooo different!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">OK - let me slow down and begin at the beginning...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><u><b>Shopping:</b></u> I need Apples, a Lemon, and a Pie Tin. Everything else I have. The recipe called for Macintosh Apples. My market doesn't carry these, so I use my iPhone to search for 'Apple Pie Apples' (smart, huh!). I find that the Braeburns I like are listed as suitable for Pies, so I'm golden. As for the Lemon, it's needed for some Grated Rind. I look for some 'packaged' rind thinking maybe it could be a good add-in for other recipes down the line. I find some Lemon Omani (used in Middle Eastern cooking). It is the dried rind of the Black Lemon, but nothing seems to indicate it might be good for baking or using as a substitute. With this idea a no-go, I do waht I should have done 15 minutes ago and grab a Lemon with nice looking peel. I find a Pie Tin and head home.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Preparation</u></b>: I clean (read: scrub and sterilize) my countertop (as I may have to roll the dough out on it later) and arrange my ingredients, including a few additions I might like to add (the Chef in me): Cocoa Powder, Ginger, Nutmeg, Vanilla.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>The Dough</u></b>: I mix my Flour(s) together, but I (of course) want to use Wheat Flour instead of White. I google some info and decide to use a 50/50 blend. I use my metal strainer as a makeshift Sifter and after removing the course Wheat Bran bits, I have a nice silky flour.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So far, so good. I'm having fun. In addition to some Salt (called for by the recipe), I sneak in 1/2 tsp of Cinnamon, 1/4 tsp Nutmeg, 1 tsp Vanilla and 3/4 tsp Cocoa. Why? Because I usually find pie crusts boring and I wanted to add a bit of flavor - I forgo the Ginger, but decide to sprinkle some into the Apples later. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I grate the Lemon Zest into the flour mixture, cube up the 2 tbs of Butter (by hand), wisk the Egg Yolks with the Ice Water and then incorporate. I then begin to work the dough into a ball - which never happens... it's crumbly. I google for help and find similar recipes with as much as 2 sticks of butter! So to bring my dough together, I begin to add additional tablespoons of butter one at a time... one more... two more... feeling better.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Rolling the Dough</u></b>: I take my ball of dough, lay it between two sheets of wax paper and begin to roll it out. The edges are all cracked and crumbly. This is not working. OK... more butter (or run out and buy a crust). NO - more butter. Two more tablespoons go in (bringing what should have been 2 tbs to a total of 6 tbs). Now the ball comes together and and I am able to roll it out and get it into the pie tin. It ain't pretty, but 'feels' alright to me (the oh-so-novice Baker).</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TJ6Y-PbLlLI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/0-OLfizhfsc/s1600/61690_433146707908_614327908_5124124_6280894_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TJ6Y-PbLlLI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/0-OLfizhfsc/s320/61690_433146707908_614327908_5124124_6280894_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I assume the dark coloring is from a combination of the Wheat Flour and the Cocoa Powder. On to the Filling!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Apples</u></b>: This should be easy! Core and slice up the Apples and lay them in the crust. Hey, it will be even easier as I have a new Peeler/Corer that I got for Christmas. I used one at my Sister's for Thanksgiving to peel Apples and it worked pretty good. I pull mine out and realize I've not used it yet, so wash it, assemble it and try to 'calibrate' it. The first peels are taking two much apple meat with them, so more adjustments... most apples go halfway through be they stop spinning and the corer just continues through without turning the apples... and they begin 'browning' in the air, so I have to get a bowl of Lemon Juice to lay them in. Now I have to alternate between Peeler/Corer and Hand Finishing the ones that only half core. Now my slices are odd looking and not looking pretty... but they'll be IN the pie so no one will see them. OK - Apples are finally laid out in their crusty tomb... er, their delicious, crusty bed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Top Shell</u></b>: CRAP! I forgot to save some of the dough for a top shell! Wait... I think I saw a recipe that used a Crumble on top. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Crumble Topping</u></b>: I find the recipe on Google (natch) and make a Crumble Topping with Flour, Oats, Brown Sugar, Cinnamon and Butter. This will be fun and different.</span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TJ6cNrL-0DI/AAAAAAAAAbY/83pySQKaWwM/s1600/63797_433152962908_614327908_5124190_3341450_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TJ6cNrL-0DI/AAAAAAAAAbY/83pySQKaWwM/s320/63797_433152962908_614327908_5124190_3341450_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Baking</u></b>: OK, now that I've gotten this far, the worst should be over. I set the oven for 400° and prepare to pop it in. Now how long does it bake for? Oh, I see... 35 minutes at </span><span style="font-size: large;">400° by one recipe (the one that needed three times the butter!) and </span><span style="font-size: large;">375° for 60 minutes according the recipe with the Crumble topping. OK, so I'll bake for 35 at </span><span style="font-size: large;">375° then check it... and when I do, it looks the same as when I put it in! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Let's leave it in for another 15 minutes and google "How Do You Know When An Apple Pie Is Done" - the answer: when the crust is golden brown. Damn - my crust started out brown due to my Cocoa and Wheat Flour additions. In either event, this site mentions 45 minutes to an hour for the golden crust so I think I'm still on the right track.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">After an hour, the pie still looks no different, but I am nervous to leave it in much longer so out it comes. I insert a knife and the Crumble topping seems 'toasted' and the Apple insides seem soft-ish. Apple-y smelling steam rises from my creation, so I'm calling it 'done'. The test will be at the Dinner Party tomorrow night. </span><span style="font-size: large;">"Movie Crew" (my Dinner Party peeps tomorrow) - I did my best!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TJ6fhqaTm2I/AAAAAAAAAbg/DjcRLU1Ts9U/s1600/62756_433166867908_614327908_5124534_4130004_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TJ6fhqaTm2I/AAAAAAAAAbg/DjcRLU1Ts9U/s320/62756_433166867908_614327908_5124534_4130004_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So, did I successfully bake a pie from scratch? Did my additions, changes, quick thinkings and last minute adjustments throughout actually pay off into an edible (do I dare hope for delicious?) dessert? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">[<b><u>Final Result</u></b>: OK - so I taste-tested it early. Twice as many apples as I used are needed, but what's there is tasty. The Butter in the Crumble topping did a nice job melting down into the apples. The Crust (with 3x the "called-for" butter) is still a bit dry and bland for me - there has to be a way (other than using graham crackers) to add FLAVOR into a crust. Maybe adding flavor extracts and some sort of sweetener (other than sugar) that will allow the crust to retain it's flakiness, but in a more palatable manner.]</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>Moral</u></b>: Baking is NOT the same as Cooking. Baking requires precision and is more of an exact science. Cooking is relaxing and creative in comparison. I'll stick to Cooking.</span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-83871232386572927452010-08-29T17:58:00.000-07:002010-08-29T18:01:25.909-07:00Uniqueness<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/THr6IQYwTAI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/mU6ejTiGiNw/s1600/images%283%29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/THr6IQYwTAI/AAAAAAAAAZ8/mU6ejTiGiNw/s200/images%283%29.jpg" width="220" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">As I watched a movie earlier today (the movie matters not, but it was RKO's 1936 <u>Mary of Scotland</u> with Katherine Hepburn and Frederic March - a strange, over-acted, pondering thing directed by the legendary John Ford)... where was I... </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Oh, yes... as I watched a movie earlier today, I noticed a candle burning center screen. As the flame flickered, I watched the smoke slowly rise, billow and curl (that's how good the movie was!). </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As the actors came and went on screen, it occurred to me that they could repeatedly perform this scene over and over again... nothing unique about their actions; but that candle, that singular element burning unbeknownst to them on the table - that was unique. Its actions were singular. They were one-of-a-kind, never to be repeated. It was the most alive and real thing on that screen.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We are always being told how wonderful we are. How special, how unique. But are we? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As I sit in my apartment, I realize that if I wasn't sitting on this couch in this apartment watching my TV and typing on my MacBook... someone else would be in this apartment. My MacBook would have been sold to someone else and be elsewhere having other things typed on it. My TV (which I won in a sweepstakes from "Men's Health" magazine back in 2004) would be drawing electricity from elsewhere as well, with someone else's eyes peering at it. My burgundy couch from (the now defunct) Wikes Furniture would be in some other room somewhere else, too.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The point is, they would all still 'be' - still would have all been manufactured, shelved and sold. Nothing unique in their existence. Nothing as singular as that flickering candle from 1936.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Or am I wrong? While their existence is not in any sense unique, their existence together in this one place <i>is</i> unique. <i>Is</i> singular. They were all brought together by me. I am the one constant in their life and I am the one variable that, had I been changed out for another, would have resulted in a completely different end result.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The someone else who won the Sharp Aquos from "Men's Health" would most likely NOT be the same person who put the burgundy pull out couch across from it in this North Hollywood apartment. The odds are astronomical.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The only thing that overcame those astronomical odds was me. My existence. My uniqueness.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I therefore must be like that Hollywood candle from over-seven decades ago. While the scenario around me continues unaware of my place in the scene, I am there. Center stage. Burning brightly.</span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-87011548616536898672010-08-23T22:31:00.001-07:002010-08-23T23:15:18.888-07:00Writings from my Past<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/THNesE9_RPI/AAAAAAAAAZk/TgPmPrOU8Rw/s1600/images%283%29.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 275px; height: 183px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/THNesE9_RPI/AAAAAAAAAZk/TgPmPrOU8Rw/s400/images%283%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508850880545244402" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">Starting tomorrow... a project that is near and dear to my heart, will finally see the light of day. <u style="font-style: italic;">The Larry Chronicles</u> - a trilogy with a long and storied past, will be published online - one chapter per week - until the entire work is online.<br /><br />What began as a 4th Grade creative writing project and bookbinding exercise back in 1973 (probably for Mrs. Dooling at Everett A. McDonald Comprehensive Elementary School - they made us memorize that! - in Warminster, Pennsylvania), grew into a trilogy. A fantasy tale with pop-culture references. Of course, leaving those 70s/80s pop-culture references in tact today, make them retro and therefore, once again relevant.<br /><br />Rediscovered in the mid-80s (sadly ending mid-sentence and mid-climax without a single clue where it was heading), it was fully revised, completed, but again set aside. Dusted off a few years after I arrived in Los Angeles, it went through another complete revision in 1996... before once again neglect took hold and it was left untouched for another 15 years.<br /><br />While dining with a close friend tonight (and she knows who she is), the idea to self-publish finally took hold. I therefore will endeavor to post it exactly as it was completed in 1996, but you never know... 35 years after it was originally written, it may once again get a tweak or two... or a thousand.<br /><br />Oh, and <u style="font-style: italic;">The Larry Chronicles</u> will be posted in their own blog location at <a href="http://ldweisberg2.blogspot.com/" target=new>http://ldweisberg2.blogspot.com/</a> - but as always, I'll announce each Chapter's addition on my Facebook page or you can subscribe above to 'Follow' the tale as it unfurls.<br /><br /><br /><br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-3717337188558439522010-08-19T16:59:00.000-07:002010-08-19T17:26:05.881-07:00There May Have Been Signs...<span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TG3F4VLDReI/AAAAAAAAAYk/Igvd0u74Lu8/s1600/index.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 163px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TG3F4VLDReI/AAAAAAAAAYk/Igvd0u74Lu8/s400/index.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507275490890827234" border="0" /></a></span> <!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:displayhorizontaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery> <w:displayverticaldrawinggridevery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery> <w:usemarginsfordrawinggridorigin/> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--> <style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Times;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style> <!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">Lately I’ve found myself with a lot of free time on my hands.<span style=""> </span>And it’s during this time that I find myself living within my head more than I should.<span style=""> </span><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">It is after all, not unlike the repository at the end of <i>Raiders of the Lost Ark</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.<span style=""> </span>It’s full of memories and closed chapters: Boy Scouts, Navy, familial dysfunction, playing the role of Paralegal at work, Animation Production, married years, single years, straight years, gay years… all chapters that make up the crazy novel of one person’s life.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-size:130%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">Recently while in the dusty attic of my mind, I recalled my little suitcase record player.<span style=""> </span>My world was constantly being expanded by the flat grooved bits of vinyl that spun around the little metal stub in the middle.<span style=""> </span>And I begin to realize that hints of what was to come were – in retrospect – quite possibly evident from the very early on.<span style=""> </span>Did the music shape the man I became or was the man that got buried deep inside for decades, simply finding the music that made his true soul dance?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-size:130%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">Oh sure, the early experiences were musically provided by my Mother, who listened mostly to Classical.<span style=""> </span>She supplied me with all the Disney tunes I could absorb.<span style=""> </span>But what I craved more was hidden behind a sliding door in old cabinet of hers.<span style=""> </span>With those doors, I found my own way.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-size:130%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TG3JtSbaaKI/AAAAAAAAAZM/vLMdfT6bGmQ/s1600/index%282%29.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 182px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TG3JtSbaaKI/AAAAAAAAAZM/vLMdfT6bGmQ/s400/index%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507279699222096034" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">Initially it was the album covers that sparked my interest.<span style=""> </span>An old man in a cloud, dangling two people on puppet strings (the London Cast of <i>My Fair Lady</i><span style="font-style: normal;">) – I listened and heard the voice of Mary Poppins and was hooked!<span style=""> </span><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;">There was a violinist sitting on top of a house (</span><i>Fiddler on the Roof</i><span style="font-style: normal;">) and a sketch of a bandleader who sang about “76 Trombones” (</span><i>The Music Man</i><span style="font-style: normal;">).<span style=""> </span>Well, my Mom took notice of this attraction (as I was always borrowing her albums).<span style=""> </span>She then introduced me to Danny Kaye (as </span><i>Hans Christian Andersen</i><span style="font-style: normal;">), Nat “King” Cole, </span><i>Kiss Me, Kate</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> and Streisand.<span style=""> </span>I ate it up.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-size:130%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">Soon, I had my own<span style=""> </span>albums (in time, the vinyl collection would swell to about 2000).<span style=""> </span>My Mom also began taking me to see things films like <i>Oliver!</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> and the cast album soon followed.<span style=""> </span>In time,<span style=""> </span>I started performing my favorites.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-size:130%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">Oh, how my younger brother and sister loved those shows I’d put on for them… lip-syncing each and every song and performing each album in their entirety.<span style=""> </span>And I did this for them often.<span style=""> </span>Trust me, they’ve not forgotten.<span style=""> </span>Thoughts of <i>Jesus Christ Superstar</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> still give my sister the shivers.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-size:130%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TG3I2rmBXvI/AAAAAAAAAY8/MklHZXosj0U/s1600/images%283%29.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 175px; height: 175px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TG3I2rmBXvI/AAAAAAAAAY8/MklHZXosj0U/s400/images%283%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507278761084673778" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">A few years later, my own record store wanderings found me perusing the Soundtrack/Cast Album section, as was my wont, and I came across this black and red and white album cover that stopped me in my tracks.<span style=""> </span>Actually I came across two albums around this time, one was Patti Smith’s <i>Easter</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> with her hairy armpit on the cover.<span style=""> </span>I was so grossed out – that might have shaped something, too!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-size:130%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TG3JMA4q92I/AAAAAAAAAZE/_xz3okPncsQ/s1600/images%284%29.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 188px; height: 268px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TG3JMA4q92I/AAAAAAAAAZE/_xz3okPncsQ/s400/images%284%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507279127577294690" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">But the album I’m specifically referring to had: an attractive nerd kissing a pretty girl; what looked like the Bride of Frankenstein; a bald guy with piercing eyes and stringy hair, peering around this guy/girl (?) with red lipstick.<span style=""> </span>On the back, someone was grabbing the pretty girl’s breasts, a muscle guy was in a Speedo… what was all this about?<span style=""> </span>With the promise of “16 Great Songs” and one of them being sung by Meat Loaf (who I recently liked from his “Two Out Of Three Ain’t Bad”), I gave it shot.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-size:130%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">OMG… to quote the lyrics, “…my mind has been expanded.”<span style=""> </span>This was, of course, the </span><span style="font-size:130%;">soundtrack to <i>The Rocky Horror Picture Show</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> and while it would still be a few years before I encountered that actual movie – another mind-altering, game-changing experience – my perceptions were becoming clearer.<span style=""> </span>Other early favorites were the glam rockers, very </span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;">androgynous boys that intrigued me.<span style=""> </span>Freddie Mercury oozed sexuality that I found surprisingly attractive.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style=""><br /></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TG3HYjqxUlI/AAAAAAAAAYw/VIBMQUGaX4I/s1600/zkog2pejop7eopo.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TG3HYjqxUlI/AAAAAAAAAYw/VIBMQUGaX4I/s400/zkog2pejop7eopo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507277144049406546" border="0" /></a></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I vividly remember one People </span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;">magazine cover </span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;">(September 6, 1976) </span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: normal;">with this not-unhandsome woman?<span style=""> </span>Or was it man?<span style=""> </span>The attraction was so strong, I couldn’t take my eyes off it.<span style=""> </span>I remember it at the checkout stand and I kept stealing glances at it hoping no one would see me.<span style=""> </span>The caption said David Bowie.<span style=""> </span>I didn’t care, I was attracted to him (I’d already loved his track “Space Oddity”).</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">So long ago.<span style=""> </span>And while I didn’t actually ‘come out’ until much later on, musically I may have been out at an early age.<span style=""> </span>I’m not saying that every little boy who likes Musicals is gay, for me I think these were glimpses into the real me that was struggling to break free.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style=""> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><span style="font-size:130%;"> <o:p></o:p></span><!--[endif]--></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:130%;">I still cherish these Albums (on my iPod now).<span style=""> </span>Hearing these songs still make me smile with more fondness than other songs do.<span style=""> </span>The kid inside is quite pleased.<o:p></o:p></span></p> <!--EndFragment--> <span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-19457934427085679312010-08-17T10:28:00.000-07:002010-08-17T10:46:29.825-07:00When You Are Dealing With Troubles And Concerns...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TGrJ0NFMdkI/AAAAAAAAAYY/bPUcXEFzqaM/s1600/images%285%29.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 293px; height: 172px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TGrJ0NFMdkI/AAAAAAAAAYY/bPUcXEFzqaM/s400/images%285%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5506435393115682370" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">There are times when we all need to a take a moment for ourselves. Life's pressures weigh on us, bog us down, make us feel heavy and troubled. When you find yourself in this predicament, ponder the following:<br /><br />"Sit beside the breakfast table.<br />Think about your troubles.<br />Pour yourself a cup of tea,<br />And think about the bubbles.<br />You can take your teardrops and drop 'em in a teacup.<br />Take 'em down to the riverside,<br />And throw 'em over the side<br />To be swept up by a current<br />And taken to the ocean<br />To be eaten by some fishes,<br />Who were eaten by some fishes<br />And swallowed by a whale,<br />Who grew so old,<br />He decomposed...<br /><br />He died and left his body<br />To the bottom of the ocean.<br />Now everybody knows that when a body decomposes<br />The basic elements are given back to the ocean,<br />And sea does what it oughta:<br />Consume the salty water (not too good for drinkin'),<br />'Cause it tastes just like a teardrop (so you run it through a filter),<br />And it comes out of the faucet (when it pours into the teapot),<br />Which is just about to bubble.<br />Now think about your troubles..."</span><div style="overflow: hidden; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); background-color: transparent; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; border: medium none;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />Now you can listen to this great Harry Nilsson song by <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYu4uwV0-XU" target="new">clicking here</a> - and as you do listen: close your eyes... breathe... relax... and let your troubles slip away into your teacup.<br /></span></div>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-3667123888113283342010-08-13T11:21:00.000-07:002010-08-13T12:17:35.861-07:00Review - Meat Loaf "Hang Cool Teddy Bear" Tour 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TGWNYNRN4cI/AAAAAAAAAYM/bDsl536OnbU/s1600/images%284%29.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 222px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TGWNYNRN4cI/AAAAAAAAAYM/bDsl536OnbU/s400/images%284%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5504961566548550082" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;">In the year 2010 - can a 62-year old rocker continue to delight fans both young and old with magnum opuses (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">opi</span>?) from decades gone by, wordy Jim <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Steinman</span> and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Steinman</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">esque</span> lyrics that allow not a moment for breath, and deliver a performance worthy of his heritage?<br /><br />Yes. Yes, he can.<br /><br />Meat Loaf. The ubiquitous 70s rocker whose debut album, <a href="http://tinyurl.com/35tnur5" target="_blank">Bat Out Of Hell</a> is still one of the best selling albums of all time (currently in fifth place worldwide at 43 million), is currently touring in support of his latest album, the Rob <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Cavallo</span> produced, <a href="http://tinyurl.com/278z7a6" target="_blank">Hang Cool Teddy Bear</a>. If Rob's name is familiar, think Green Day's <i>American Idiot</i> for starters. We're talking Rock Concert in the finest tradition: light show, video screen, pyrotechnics, large inflatables... this show did not miss a beat.<br /><br />Meat (or Mr. Loaf if you prefer) opened the show simply by appearing on stage to a standing ovation and then just milked it for a few minutes by walking from one side of the stage to the other, looking out upon the audience that had assembled in the Universal City Gibson Amphitheatre. Once the music began, the opening surprise was "Hot <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Patootie</span>, Bless My Soul" from <i>The Rocky Horror Picture Show</i> with accompanying film footage on the big LED screen behind the stage.<br /><br />While new tracks were expected during the course of the evening, they were kept to a minimum and performed with enough video and lights to keep the unfamiliar interesting. And while the new tracks were hard rocking and befitting of Meat Loaf, it was the hits, after all, that the 70% capacity crowd had come to experience.<br /><br />And experience them we did - "Bat Out Of Hell" (the third number performed) included enough <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">pyro</span> and lights to support the music and a bonus giant inflatable bat that loomed over the stage. "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad" opened with an acoustic portion. The duets "I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)" and "Paradise By The Dashboard" were not only present, but performed perfectly by both Meat Loaf and long-time <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">duetist</span>, Patti Russo. Even the unexpected guitar solo from <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Lynyrd</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Skynryd's</span> "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Freebird</span>" delighted as a wonderful musical showcase for the guitarists and led into Meat Loaf's own "Rock 'N' Roll Dreams."<br /><br />Meat's connection with the audience was instantaneous and undeniable. We were standing for track after track. He took no breaks, no intermission, I didn't even see him take a sip of water. He did stop the show once during "You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth" and berated the audience for not singing loud enough, considering that 90% know every word. We then rose to the occasion and the show continued.<br /><br />So, Meat Loaf 2010... 33 years after he exploded on the scene - worth it? Yes! A great show from a great performer.<br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-59587622296231034952010-07-29T20:55:00.000-07:002010-07-29T22:03:00.188-07:00Friends vs. Acquaintances - Which Are You?<span style="font-size:130%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TFJOcUEFtSI/AAAAAAAAAYA/51UUVCEfn_U/s1600/images%282%29.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 245px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/TFJOcUEFtSI/AAAAAAAAAYA/51UUVCEfn_U/s400/images%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499544343301960994" border="0" /></a><br />DISCLAIMER: If you happen to be a 'friend' of mine, you should NOT read anything personally into this blog. I am discussing an observation that has evolved over time and am not specifically targeting anyone. With that said...<br /><br />What makes an Acquaintance? What makes a Friend?<br /><br />I recently left a job after 14 years. Well, let's call a spade a spade, the job left me. But that's neither here nor there. At said job, I had a lot of "friends" - a lot of people who I've known for many years: ate with at lunch; drank with at parties; dined with at dinners; confided in, shared intimate details of both work life and home life. People I've been (and still am) proud to know and look forward to socializing with again.<br /><br />I know a lot of these people will be Acquaintances for a long time to come. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Facebook</span> Friends who occasionally comment on my Posts or I on theirs. We poke fun at each other and generally keep in contact. I like all of these people, love some of them actually. They're my 'friends'...<br /><br />But 'friends' in different sort of way than my true 'friends' - Friendship is deeper than that - and that's OK.<br /><br />The main difference seems to be based on Communication - a major component of every relationship. I've found (again, over time) that there are a few people who call you, want to say 'hi' - hang out, see what you're up to, wanna grab a bite. Minimally, you can call these people Friends.<br /><br />Going beyond that, of course, there can be that core group of Friends who frequently go over the top, doing things that go beyond your imagination. Fun dinners and movies, day trips, weekenders, evenings that begin simply and after much conversation and good times, you realize that it's now five-six hours later and you don't know where the time went. Should you fall into that category (and you know who you are) you are true Friends (and I love them all). A deeper love than the 'love' you have for your 'friends' (who are actually Acquaintances).<br /><br />So what's the deal with Acquaintances - what is it that makes them different from Friends? Well, to start with, there is nothing wrong with Acquaintances - we all have them and need them. They're fun. The average person you know and encounter with some regularity is an Acquaintance.<br /><br />I have found, though, that these are the people <span style="font-style: italic;">you</span> reach out to. These are the ones <span style="font-style: italic;">you</span> call, email, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">IM</span>. These are people for which communication tends to be a one-way street. Oh sure, they will respond to <span style="font-style: italic;">your</span> communiques and you'll both set-up time together... but as a rule, only after the initial contact is made by <span style="font-style: italic;">you</span>. The key here is, <span style="font-style: italic;">you</span> are the catalyst. Therefore, the contact doesn't tend to feel mutual...<br /><br />I think that's the true difference. Mutuality. It is not as reciprocal as your relationships with your Friends. Friendship is a two-way street. Acquaintances tend to come and go because unless you're the one putting yourself out there all the time to continue the contact, Acquaintances begin to fade into the mists of time. Days become Weeks. Weeks turn into Months. Next thing you know, you can't remember the last time you saw them or talked to them. Your lives are on different paths, growing further apart as you go your ways... usually with your own friends.<br /><br />This is not a condemnation, just an observation. There's a reason why songs are written about Friends. They are important.<br /><br /><br />DISCLAIMER P.S.: If for some reason you as a reader see yourself falling inadvertently into the Acquaintance category and want more... you know what you have to do.<br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-10184771907739197652010-04-18T09:01:00.000-07:002010-04-18T10:35:03.934-07:00The Power of Lyrics - "Dreams Are Nothing More Than Wishes..."<span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S8stdABvc7I/AAAAAAAAAPg/pOeZD4_6uAo/s1600/images-1.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 122px; height: 171px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S8stdABvc7I/AAAAAAAAAPg/pOeZD4_6uAo/s400/images-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461508949363618738" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >"Dreams are Nothing More than Wishes, and a Wish is just a Dream you Wish to Come True."</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br />- Harry <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Nilsson</span> ("The Puppy Song" from the album </span><span style="text-decoration: underline;font-size:130%;" >Harry</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> -1969 [<a href="http://tinyurl.com/yeuq4zq" target="new">Click for Video</a>])<br /><br />A line that whenever I hear it, I begin to repeat it over and over - each time ever so-much slower - in an effort to analyze what Harry was trying to say. As a preface for anyone who maybe unfamiliar with Harry <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Nilsson</span>, he was a brilliant singer/songwriter [<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Harry_Nilsson" target="new">Click here for a Biography</a>], a favorite of The Beatles and a man whose voice was slowly ravaged as the 70s progressed due to drugs and alcohol and who died much too young at age 52. "The Puppy Song" is from is third album and opens with this fabulous phrase.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">"Dreams are Nothing More than Wishes..."</span> to me points to the fact that if dreams are generated by the subconscious mind, then dreams are your mind making a wish. But this is so literal it takes the beauty out of the phrase... words just as Dreams and Wishes are sentiments that make one reflect, smile, tilt one's head to the side and look upward at the vast expanse of an infinite sky. Your Dreams should be as infinite as the sky. We wish them to be. We need them to be. We should always have Dreams. But once attained, a Dream becomes Reality and is therefore no longer a Dream. This is a good thing as it now allows us to make another Wish and Dream even bigger.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">"...and a Wish is just a Dream..."</span> is not simply a reverse phrasing of the initial thought, but a reminder that your Wishes should be as pleasant as your Dreams. Which means that if you use your Wish in anger, like when you are furious at something and you wish for something bad to happen in retaliation, THAT is not a Wish... it is more of an Angry Possibility that you are imagining. So let's discard that use of the word 'wish' and get back to our use of Wishes as always referring to a Fond Desire. Dreams are the same thing (similarly, bad Dreams are Nightmares and therefore, not what we're talking about). Pleasant, hopeful, empowering. Those are the Dreams we're referring to.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">"...you Wish to come True."</span> Isn't this the ultimate hope? You Wish for your Dreams to come True. Everyone does. Dreaming of a brighter future or a positive change in your life is not worth a damn if you don't desire it so much that you Wish it to become your Reality. Whatever you are truly Wishing to be your Reality is your Dream. But all of this means NOTHING if that's all you do is Wish and Dream. You need to take Action.<br /><br />Once you realize that, you can achieve anything. You know the Goal. You know your desired Endgame. You see the Light at the end of the tunnel that you want, desire, Wish to head for. Go for it. Follow your Dreams. This is what your subconscious Wishes to do. Wants to do. Your subconscious has desired it, craves it, needs it. Listen to your subconscious. It is after all kept alive by your Heart. Therefore by extension, this is what your Heart desires, craves, needs.<br /><br />Follow your Heart.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:130%;" >"</span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;font-size:130%;" >Dreams are Nothing More than Wishes, and a Wish is just a Dream you Wish to Come True.</span><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-size:130%;" >"</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-27721638769898342272010-04-12T19:17:00.000-07:002010-04-18T08:58:13.590-07:00The Power of Lyrics - "Life is What Happens to You While You're Busy Making Other Plans."<span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S8PUbQku-gI/AAAAAAAAAPI/-3JqXVRgJS0/s1600/images-1.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 151px; height: 149px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S8PUbQku-gI/AAAAAAAAAPI/-3JqXVRgJS0/s400/images-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459440738073770498" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;">"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."</span><br /><br />- John Lennon (from the song "Beautiful Boy [Darling Boy]" from <u>Double Fantasy</u> -1980 [demo version - <a href="http://tinyurl.com/p2g2mx" target="new">Click for Video</a>])<br /><br />A sentiment that John Lennon proffered to his young son, Sean.<br /><br />This more than any phrase or thought is one I now try to live by. When I get overly wrapped up in something or when I delay a decision or put something off until a certain number of pieces are nicely place, or decide that the time isn't right to do, buy or change a facet of my life... this phrase is the one that pops into my head, smacks some sense into me, wakes me from my stupor and forces me to move forward.<br /><br />But it wasn't always this way. Between 2001 and 2005, I made three monumental decisions using this phrase as my guide. My first was to get out from under a mountain of nearly six-digit debt. How had I gotten there? Simple - I was trying to live my life as a normal person, hoping that a change would someday come to make it all right. It never did.<br /><br />Once the dust settled from that, my second change was the hardest of all, and that was to acknowledge fully who I was and choose to live that way. That had its own challenges and skins to shed.<br /><br />Finally, with my life settling back into a groove of calm once more, I took the last piece - my employment - and shook it up by taking a 40% paycut in order to move into a job that would make me Happy and be more fulfilling.<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;">"Life is what happens to you..."</span> Everyday this is the thing we are all experiencing. Whether we wake up and sit in traffic for an hour only to then end up in a small poorly lit cubicle slogging through piles of meaningless papers, or if we stay at home tending to our progeny. We go to an office, a store, the stables... plow a field, analyze data, work on a cure for HIV, teach, firefight, dry clean, deliver mail, arrange flowers, drill teeth... this is your Life. It's happening to you right this moment.<br /><br />Every single being on this planet has a Life. But is it one you want? Is it one you enjoy? If not can you change it? If not, then find some way to enjoy it.<br /><br />Time is marching forward and cares not whether you liked Today or hated Today. It's bringing Tomorrow, ready or not. And soon what was Today becomes Yesterday, Yesterday becomes Last Week, Last Month, Last Year... next thing you know, a Decade has gone by and somehow those plans for a better tomorrow have yet to materialize.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">"... while you're busy making other plans."</span> Do you recognize that you are in your Life? Or are you simply going through the motions of tedium, dreaming of a better tomorrow? That better tomorrow (for now) IS just your other plans. And while it is wonderful that you spend time thinking about them and working toward them, you may never get there if you don't take some time to enjoy your present Life.<br /><br />Find something small that gives you joy. Find ways to enrich your Life. Maybe instead of being stuck in traffic, hop off an exit or two early and drive past a Park. Pull over, get out and stretch for five minutes, breathing in the air, listening to the birds or watch a squirrel.<br /><br />This IS your Life and it is currently happening to you and plan as you might for a better tomorrow that will make you happier, make sure you take a few moments to enjoy your Life - Today.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."</span></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-75790222809428093402010-04-11T11:06:00.000-07:002010-04-11T12:14:14.025-07:00The Power of Lyrics - "The Love You Take, is Equal to the Love You Make."<span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S8IRIVmz0II/AAAAAAAAAPA/W03VHr39ypo/s1600/images-1.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 125px; height: 122px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S8IRIVmz0II/AAAAAAAAAPA/W03VHr39ypo/s400/images-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458944533263011970" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">"...The love you take is equal to the love you make."</span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"> </span>- Lennon/McCartney<br />(from the song "The End" from The Beatles album, <u>Abbey Road</u> -1969 [w/solos - <a href="http://tinyurl.com/y4ujx2v" target="new">Click for Video</a>])<br /><br />The final song from the final album (yes, I know - <u>Let It Be</u> was released after <u>Abbey Road</u>, but as you all know, <u>Abbey Road</u> was recorded last.) This is not only an apropos swan song for a band that preached love and peace, and the only one that features instrumental solos from all four <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Fabs</span> (especially Ringo's renowned solo), but a lyric that is oft-quoted and a sentiment that we all should embrace. Yet as much as this lyric speaks to me - and far (far) be it for me to second guess The Beatles - upon closer analysis I find the thought - as phrased - a bit flawed.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">"The love you take..."</span> is a harsh thought that makes one think of force. I would think a better phrase would be "The love you receive" or "The love you get back" - I believe either is closer to the intended sentiment.<br /><br />The remainder of the phrase <span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">"...is equal to the love you make."</span> makes it sound like simply "you get what you give" which in and of itself is OK, but not as encompassing as it could be. You get a dime because you gave 10 pennies. To me it makes love sound like it needs to be or it is nothing more than an equitable exchange.<br /><br />Knowing <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Beatle</span> lyrics as well as I do, and having read and listened to hundreds of hours of interviews and personal writings by the lads, I feel that what they were really meaning to say is not "The love you give is equal to the love you receive in return" but </span><span style="font-size:130%;">was more along the lines of</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> "The more you put out there, the more your efforts will be rewarded."<br /><br />Right or wrong this is what I take from the phrase. It's not about the receiving or the taking of Love. It's about the giving, the making. We should be putting it out there, regardless of whether it is returned in kind. Interestingly, in the 1939 MGM Film, <u>The Wizard of Oz</u>, I find a similar sentiment in a similarly <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">mis</span>-phrased thought (to my thinking): "A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others." This is what The Wizard tells Tin Man when he bestows the silk heart. This also seems to point to the merits of 'taking love' over 'giving love' - the flawed sentiment that seems prevalent in our society (or in mankind in general).<br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />But back to The Beatles. The intent of their lyric seems to me to be more of a wish for us, along the lines of: "may you receive as much love as you give (if not more)" - a reminder that you don't get it if you don't give it. So give it... freely and often. The more you love, the more you are loved in return.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">"And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love you make."</span><br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-71032459249814614192010-04-10T19:03:00.000-07:002010-04-10T19:57:13.618-07:00The Power of Lyrics - An Introduction<span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S8E1B0zSZDI/AAAAAAAAAO4/h9FFUdSWkKw/s1600/images.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 94px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S8E1B0zSZDI/AAAAAAAAAO4/h9FFUdSWkKw/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458702528819651634" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:130%;">Anyone who knows me, knows how powerful I find music to be. I walk around whistling; always a tune in my head. I listen to music at the gym, in the car, at work, at home. I aurally consume dozens of hours of music a week.<br /><br />Usually, I couldn't tell you what the song is about, I don't hear the lyrics, I hear and feel the structure of the song... oh, and it has to be a structured song. No Jazz or Classical tends to do it for me. It's a structured song: Verse-Verse-Chorus-Verse-Chorus-Bridge with a Key Change-Chorus to Completion.<br /><br />If my mind doesn't necessarily notice it, my body does... be it a head bob, foot tap, finger wiggle... I feel it. And no, I can't Dance either... I don't seem to have that sort of Rhythm. I even use it to concentrate - I abhor Silence. To read a book, I need some music playing. When I worked in the Legal Department, I needed to keep one half of my brain entertained with music while the other half of my brain typed out the contracts.<br /><br />But every now and then, a Lyric jumps out at me. It need not be timely nor profound, it doesn't necessarily relate to something going on in my life, but something in that simple, concise string of words grabs me at that moment. You'd think with my appreciation of lyrical phrases, I would be a fan of Poetry as well. Let me put that to rest. No - I am not a Poetry fan. (Though there are a few exceptions to that - I mean, why is the Snark always a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Boojum</span>?)<br /><br />So today I begin a new exploration of Lyrics. As a phrase catches my ear, I will jot it down and the expound on what I might mean to me or why it may have caught my ear at that moment.<br /><br />I hope this will be fun.<br /><br /><br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-77625224334703964782010-03-25T22:22:00.000-07:002010-03-28T11:14:31.000-07:00Article about Me - March 23, 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S6-cTdWkC9I/AAAAAAAAAOw/VbXDVRPLpy4/s1600/25493_375064762908_614327908_3700612_2243794_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 289px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S6-cTdWkC9I/AAAAAAAAAOw/VbXDVRPLpy4/s400/25493_375064762908_614327908_3700612_2243794_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453749531879672786" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S6xF5cUx8ZI/AAAAAAAAAOg/9_y6Pk2_NMU/s1600/images-1.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 197px; height: 108px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S6xF5cUx8ZI/AAAAAAAAAOg/9_y6Pk2_NMU/s400/images-1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5452810101997040018" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;"><br />Weisberg traveled from Warminster to Hollywood for 'Dragon'</span> <div id="bylinewrap"> <div class="byline"><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />By: Lou Gaul</span></div> <div class="affiliation"><span style="font-size:130%;">Bucks County Courier Times</span></div> </div> <div id="pbTextBody"><p><span style="font-size:130%;">For Larry Weisberg, the road from Warminster to Tinseltown has been a long, winding and rewarding one. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">The 47-year-old Philadelphia native, who devoted years to working toward a creative production assignment, served as production supervisor of modeling and surfacing for DreamWorks Animation SKG’s computer-animated “How to Train Your Dragon,” opening March 26 in 2-D and 3-D. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">His trip to a Hollywood career actually began more than three decades ago when he was 14. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">“In May of 1977, my whole family went to see this movie that was supposed to be cool,” Weisberg said during a telephone interview from DreamWorks in Glendale, Calif. “We got there late and had to sit in the front row. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">“When those yellow letters started on the screen, they spelled out ‘Star Wars.’ I looked up and watched these giant spaceships go from left to right, and they were so realistic. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">“I remember sitting there and saying to myself, ‘I want to do this!’ ” </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">Weisberg, whose mother resides in Trevose, Pa., spent some time at William Tennent High School in Warminster, Pa. (and left when his family moved in the middle of his sophomore year). Soon after graduation, he set out to see the world. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">“I went into the Navy, because I had no interest in college,” he said. “I wanted to make films, but I didn’t want to be told (in a cinema course) whose films were genius. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">“I wanted to attend the Steven Spielberg-George Lucas School of Filmmaking and create blockbusters and fun movies.” </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">After the Navy, in which he served from 1980 to 1985 on submarines, he became assistant manager of a music-store chain. At age 28, he grew tired of the retail record business and decided to get different experiences by becoming a temp in Long Island. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">He was married at the time, and his ex-wife had some recording-industry job offers in California. They packed their car and drove to Los Angeles. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">Weisberg answered an ad in the Hollywood Reporter for a receptionist/office manager for a small TV production company responsible for the documentary series “ABC World of Discovery.” </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">He then worked on a children’s show revolving around the Museum of Natural History in New York City before landing a temporary position in 1996 at the Walt Disney Co. He was responsible for letters from nursery school owners asking for permission to paint pictures of Mickey Mouse on their walls. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">In April 1996, his life took a major change when DreamWorks hired him as a temp in the legal department. Weisberg worked as a paralegal for nine years and then felt burned out. </span></p> <div id="adtop"> <div id="adtoprt"> <!--<a href="news/news_details/article/92/2010/march/24/weisberg-traveled-from-warminster-to-hollywood-for-dragon.html#adjump">Story continues below <img src="http://www.phillyburbs.com/pb-dyn/images/default/template/adtoparrow.gif" width="7" height="9" border="0" /></a>--> </div> Advertisement <script language="JavaScript">yld_mgr.place_ad_here("s1");</script> </div> <span style="font-size:130%;"><a name="adjump"></a></span> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">He appealed to DreamWorks’ human resources department to find him a job involving the studio’s animated output. He agreed to take a 40 percent pay cut to do just that. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">He worked on “Over the Hedge” (2006), “Flushed Away” (2006) and “Bee Movie” (2007) in the production office. For hands-on experience, his big break came when a staff member quit suddenly and Weisberg found himself doing what he had always wanted to do — working with artists to make a movie. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">On “How to Train Your Dragon,” he became production supervisor of modeling and surfacing. That process takes artwork and makes it a 3-D model in the computer. Surfacing adds textures and colors to an object. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">“They (artists) can make the model shine like glass, look like rock or wood and other things from that same piece of (computer) geometry,” he said. “Everything in the film — except fire and water — is modeled and surfaced.” </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">Recognizing that “How to Train Your Dragon” is a technical marvel, Weisberg feels the striking visuals only work so well due to the film’s heartfelt story. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">In the PG-rated picture, a teen (voice by Jay Baruchel of “Tropic Thunder”), whose father (voice by Gerard Butler of “300”) is a brave Viking leader, feels like a misfit and a poor candidate to follow in the macho footsteps of his protective father. The boy ends up capturing and taming a legendary dragon and then rides the winged creature to defend his people. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">“The film is about a boy who is different and who doesn’t fit in,” said Weisberg, who named “The Jungle Book” and “Aladdin” as his favorite animated movies. “But as soon as people take the time to stop and listen to him, they find out his alternate way of thinking isn’t weird or wrong. It’s just different.<br />“Sometimes, different is good and better.” </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">And what advice does Weisberg give young people who seek a job like his? </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">“If you want to get into animation as an artist, you must keep drawing,” he said. “Even though the characters in these films are computer-animated, it’s still all about the (original) drawings. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">“Also, post your comics on Facebook and use networking sites to find other people doing similar work.” </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;"><br />And even though Weisberg is now firmly established in California, he still has a taste for a particular spot in Bucks County. </span></p> <p><span style="font-size:130%;">“I remember pizza from Longhitano’s (which was located in Warminster and is now in Southampton, Pa.),” he said. “Thinking about their pepperoni pizza still makes my mouth water.”</span></p></div>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-43553446397761363622010-01-03T10:37:00.000-08:002010-01-03T10:59:35.685-08:00How to Make the Perfect Scrambled Egg<span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S0DkEWdBFaI/AAAAAAAAAOY/XpLCti0A43E/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 145px; height: 107px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S0DkEWdBFaI/AAAAAAAAAOY/XpLCti0A43E/s400/images.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422584714751972770" border="0" /></a></span><span style="font-size:130%;">Something as simple as a scrambled egg can be an art.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;">I've tried different techniques and ratios of ingredients, debated adding milk or not, struggled to break the habit of my Mom's '<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">scramboozled</span>' eggs (simply scrambling them in the frying pan as they cook), and as of this morning, I have discovered how to make the perfect scrambled egg.<br /><br />For starters, the hardware: bowl, whisk (not a fork, not a spoon, but a whisk), a spatula and a frying pan (non-stick is preferred). Then comes the software: egg, milk, salt, pepper, butter. That's it. Nothing else.<br /><br />The key is the ratio: one egg + one teaspoon milk + one pinch salt. This ratio works no matter how many eggs you make. I made two (so two eggs + two teaspoons milk + two pinches salt).<br /><br />Crack the eggs into the bowl (or measuring cup like I use). Add milk and salt. Whisk for one minute. Your goal is to achieve a uniform color, uniform consistency, and introduce some air into the mix. Air=fluffy. You are not beating it into a froth. You do not want peaks. You just want some airy consistency.<br /><br />Once done, let it sit for about a minute as you bring your frying pan up to heat on just above Medium. Add enough butter to coat the pan and before (not after) but before the butter completely melts (and begins to burn, which you know it will), add the egg mixture.<br /><br />Let it is sit for about 10-15 seconds, adding a few <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">crrw</span>-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">crrws</span> of freshly ground pepper. Once the edges begin to cook, gently use your spatula to move the sides into the center of the pan. Do not stir, chop, flip or even fold your scrambled eggs. Just remain calm and make simple moves. This should continue for about a minute (for two eggs). Your time, of course, will differ depending on the amount of eggs you are preparing (although I would highly suggest cooking your eggs in small batches).<br /><br />Keep doing this until the egg is ALMOST completely cooked - leave some runny. If you wait until all the runny is gone, you will overcook your egg. The egg is hot enough to continue cooking the runny after you remove it from the pan.<br /><br />Quickly plate and enjoy.<br /><br /><br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3817414549038747599.post-69749235193378016152010-01-02T22:06:00.000-08:002010-01-02T22:34:06.212-08:00New Year, New Start - Make Changes NOW<span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S0Az_xofbFI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/jjd4EW2H4LY/s1600-h/17839_227595637908_614327908_3171646_6928577_s.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 143px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_JjxobjIgfm8/S0Az_xofbFI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/jjd4EW2H4LY/s400/17839_227595637908_614327908_3171646_6928577_s.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422391122102021202" border="0" /></a>As January 1 approached, most people began to think about things they'd like to change; things they wanted to do differently; something new they were going to start - eating better, exercising more, being nicer, thriftier, stop nail biting, no more snacking... on and on and on.<br /><br />But why what for some date in the future... DO IT NOW. Don't wait until January 1, or your next Birthday, or as soon as you Graduate, or as soon as school is over or summer is over, Labor Day begins, and on and on and on.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"> One delay after another.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:130%;">One excuse after another.<br /><br />"Tomorrow I will ______." Is that because I want one more day to error before I change? Procrastination perhaps?<br /><br />I had a friend who loved to say, "I'm going to give it six more months." What happens at the six month mark? Why make up such a generic, meaningless deadline for yourself?<br /><br />Do it NOW. Do you really need a deadline? A goal? A date to shoot for? No... that's just an excuse - and I do it to.<br /><br />So here's my resolution. No more artificial deadlines. No more delaying to some <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">calendaric</span> milestone. If I want to change something, I'm going to start right now... this very second.<br /><br />We all should.<br /></span>Larry Weisberghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12608896994495275607noreply@blogger.com0