Johnny Winter. Girlie’s First Guitar Crush

“Don’t Panic!”  Really Douglas? (may you rest in peace)  Really? I can leave it “in the lap of the gods” on this “get the fuck out” Friday? What more can we say, eh Freddie? Speaking of studio versions, I prefer the original studio version of In the Lap of the Gods.  Of course. It’s rare when a live version of a song can rival that of the original studio version.  But it can happen.

Wasn’t sure what to write this GTFOF (new blog hop anyone? LOL).  I love the YouTube. Luv, luv, luv it!  Any mood, any song, concert, version of a song…..I could sit here all day and listen til I get it all out of my system. Maybe.

It’s all a maybe, isn’t it?  What happens.  How life turns out.  We can “hope for the best”. NOT!  Let’s face it.  It has nothing to do with hope.  Hope is one of those rogerian cliches that serves us well once in awhile but more often than not lulls us into acquiescence.  It’s about movement.  Forward.  Taking steps deliberately. Maybe not easy ones or the right ones.

Back to Johnny.  My man.  My first guitar crush.  My first concert.  Don’t think I was old enough to drive yet.  My brother begrudgingly? drove me and a friend of mine, who, God knows why, wanted to go with me.  A “cosmo” girl, a roger and my best friend, “B” had heard one of Johnny’s less “blue” songs one day while at my house and liked it. And surprisingly she enjoyed the show. Hey! did I mention that the very first opening act was none other than the Ramones!  Yes, they were famously booed off the stage in Providence. (reference has been made to this particular concert in both book and documentary footage).  And Girlie was there!

So even though today I’d like to “drown in my own tears”, drink a little “cheap tequila” (‘cuz sometimes “life is hard”), I’m just gonna leave it to Johnny. He can always work the magic.

…world without Edge, Amen

100_2106….no Bear, do… not…. turn….. towards…. the light!   My beloved Bear.  Recently retrieved from secure, sublime? confinement storage.  Why?  Having slumbered peacefully, lo these many decades, I wonder: does he now feel threatened?  Teased?  Tortured by the thought that once again he’s been brought to the land of the living?  

Bear has been in existence for what, 50 years?  Sure, he’s lost his physical eyes.  (he doesn’t really need them to see).  Sure, his body shows some wear and tear (he pretends he’s an octogenarian) but nothing a little rehab won’t take care of.  (what? whadya mean I’m being cryptic? wtf, was just trying to revive an old draft…fine…I’ll move on…)
A while back Man and I watched the movie Ted.  Funny movie.  Touching movie.  Sappy movie.  Silly movie?  Made me laugh.  It’s on my list of all time funny movies.  We watched Ted 2x in 2 nights.  For me to do that, a movie has to be good.

Why did we watch it 2x?  My rogerian other half fell asleep pretty much at the beginning.  He thought Ted looked silly, that the premise was stupid (he told me later).  So he fell asleep within 10 minutes of putting it in the DVD player, drifting in and out for the entire length of the movie.   So I watched it by myself.   I laughed by myself.  

Next day, after my roger reluctantly gave in to the premise of a movie with a talking teddy bear as one of it’s stars, we watched it together.  And laughed together.  Who knew this movie would shine a brighter light into the worldview/personal reality of a roger

Enter the Wakefield Doctrine.  the Wakefield Doctrine, the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers is a personality theory.  It’s a life tool that allows an individual “to know more about the other person than they know about themselves”.   More importantly,  it can shed some light on our own selves.  “the Doctrine is for you, not them” as we say.

See, the Doctrine provides a vehicle by which anyone can traverse the land of self-evolution.  It’s a method of self development that is fun, if not challenging.  To understand the whys... if you are so inclined…clarks lol.  scotts, they don’t often have this conflict… fuck you! lol  Which leaves our rogerian brethern, the most populous group.  Bottom line?  the Doctrine gives anyone who is looking the opportunity to understand their own behavior and the behavior of those around them.  Period.  Don’t we all want a simpler, less complicated life?!

I’m a clarklike female.  Go read about my people.  My other half is a roger.  Yeah, go do the same thing.  We walk through different worlds he and I.  Mine is based in intellect, his in emotion.  Not a bad mix most of the time.  This movie, as it turns out, is one of my roger’s favorite movies this year.  He enjoyed it immensely.  However!  Remember, he told me that when I first picked it up and gave it to him he looked at the cover and his first thought was this is going to be stupid. (for a later discussion or perhaps tonight:  rogers’ dismissal of clarks and what it represents)  

As a clark, I’m not inclined to automatically dismiss a film as being silly because, well…it’s a fucking movie!  Aren’t they sometimes about fantastical things?  Aren’t they about what could be?  Aren’t they vehicles of storytelling like the fairytales of our childhoods?  Well, my very own Ken Burns can we watch the Dustbowl yet again? Man, finally realized that.  (“I’m just saying, Johnny”.  LOL)

Which brings us to the concept of personal realities.  Yes, they are different.  And yes, they are the same.  This Doctrine thing.  Damn, if it isn’t amazing.  Case in point, we have lived in the same house for a little over 10 years.  It was originally a 12 acre parcel that was split and sold in 2 parcels.  We bought 2 acres and the house in May 2003, our neighbors bought the remaining 10 acres, stables and barn in July 2003.  They subsequently built a house and have been living next to us for the last 10 years.  (stay with me Frank. there is a point.)

Our neighbors recently sold their house and the 10 acres.  2 weeks ago they held a garage sale.  Tomorrow is their last day in the old house.  Then the new owners move in.  My other half was all kinda distressed about these people moving away because they’ve been our neighbors for the last 10 years.  His discomfort, as we discussed with each other, had nothing to do with missing them.  In fact, we were not overly friendly with them.  A thing foreign (people have always liked us!) to us but hey, we are in a foreign land. lol  Anyway, my Man’s discomfort had to do with the fact that life as he has known it for the last 10 years – the life of neighborly conflicts and annoyances and all that made up the last 10 years with these people was going away.  A part of his world was changing.

rogers do not adapt easily, readily to change.  They will tell you this themselves.  Emotion figures prominantly in the world of a roger.  On several levels.  My roger was feeling all emotional over the neighbors moving because he was grappling with the fact that a portion of his world, his daily consistent construct (his personal reality) was about to change.  Be different.  It wasn’t that he would miss these people, it was because they would no longer be part of the landscape he has known for the last decade.

I’d be lying if I said that rogers and their personal realities, their emotion based way of dealing with life doesn’t fascinate me immensely. I often talk about the Wakefield Doctrine at GirlieOnTheEdge and today I seem to have been going on and on and on.  Lets’ face it, I’m no Considerer, (she of many words but you always finish reading them fame), so I’m going to continue this conversation tonight on the Wakefield Doctrine Saturday Night Call in Show.  Live.  8:00 – 8:45 pm EST. 

If you’d like to join me, if you’re a roger, know a roger, or simply want info on the workings/elements of the personal reality, aka worldview of rogers (or clarks and scotts) call this number 1-218-339-0422 between 8:00 to 8:45 pm EST.  The lady will prompt for this Access code: 512103#.  I’ll be there in the car’s dashboard and will happily slide over to make room.  Let’s talk.  

Roll me, dr-edge me, fry me…I be done

…and still, we can be heroes just for one day….D…G…C…D…A…E…D…D…G…

Today I say, “on with the new and out with the old!”   Or should it be “out with the old and in with the new?”  Whatever.  So yesterday was a milestone holiday.  Yes, yes, the “official” start of summer.  Woopdi..doo.  I live in a quaint, little (very) beach town on the east coast of Florida.  It’s been summer for weeks.  We had spectacularly nice weather the entire weekend, which by the way, began on Thursday.

See, it’s a little different here.  For example, in the place I moved from light years ago (and other sane places), Friday is considered the last day of the work week.  Always filled with exuberant anticipation that, at 5:00 pm sharp, the weekend would begin.  The 2 day celebration representing the freedom from one’s occupational obligations whatever they may be.  Here, I call this day Fraturday.  When a great many people decide that they don’t want to/have to work the entire day.  I mean it’s the weekend afterall so we’d better get started on that right away!

While the rest of the folks in all the other “countries”  had a 3 day weekend, here we had a 4 day weekend.  See how it works?  We simply extend the time for holidays and special events.  Why? ‘Cuz we want to.  I mean whose gonna complain, right? LOL  That’s a big LOL my friends.  For all the positives that go with living in Florida there are some mighty, shall we say (I’ll be polite today), messed up things that go on down here.  A thing not easily explained.  One of those “ya got to live here to believe it” kind of things.

Huh, makes me think of Stephen King’s Under the Dome.  Classic King.  The roger that he is, Mr. King takes well over 900 pages to speak of life in a small town that suddenly finds itself cut off from the rest of civilization by a dome of mysterious origins.  No, I didn’t finish the book and at this point, I might as well wait for the TV telling coming next month.

Don’t spoil it for me.  I can pretty much guess the characters who make it out from under that mysterious dome.  Come to think of it, maybe I’ll skip the TV telling and read the book after all.  If history persists, then the book is far better than the upcoming series anyway.

Well, it’s the end of a 4 day weekend.  Lots of work to do so I had better get on with my day.  I’ve found a microscopic tear in my own dome and need to get to work on that.  Before I conclude this ramble-ette, thank you for stopping by today.  I was going to talk about emotional content – what it is, it’s uses (if you are lucky to procure it)  But we all have to begin another cycle in this the second day of “summer’.  Carry on. 

“What? What is it?  What is emotional content?”  That’s a tough one.  And topic for another post.  Yes, yes I am committing myself to writing the next post.  Yes, soon.  No, not weeks from now.  Simply, it (emotional content) is the thing that allows a person to achieve the seemingly impossible.

Can you always see it? Can you always see the Edge?

No, no you can’t.  There were times I should have seen the Edge but didn’t.  Times, that if it was any more apparent, it would’ve jumped up like a rabbid racoon and bitten me in the face!  So the obvious question:  has the time come to define the Edge?  Naah.  I know what it is, I’m just not so sure I’ve got the writing chops to describe it adequately.  Sorry.  Don’t have a “wiki” definition handy.  At least not today.

I can say this – the Edge is different for each of us.  “…what?… I disagree“.  Everyone’s been there.  It’s just that you may not have been cognizant of it.  Didn’t see the Edge for what it was.  “…..yes, yes you do….it’s facing situations, times when a single decision or series of decisions has the potential to alter your life…”  The Edge isn’t always a cliffhanging place, it isn’t necessarily an adrenaline-rush do or die place.  It’s a place,  a state of being that can appear as innocuous as banana pudding.  Hey!  Click this link: Pictimilitude and then ask Cyndi.  I’ll bet american currency against round bakery products she can identify, then concur and finally, give you an  example of her own Edge like experience(s).

Listen, I’m a bit out of sorts today.  Not really feeling it, so let’s talk about the challenge of creative writing.  Show of hands – who thinks single, unattached people have an easier time producing creative content?  Do you think they/you have an advantage over their married/might as well be married counterparts?  I’m thinking yes and no.

Um…you guys mind if I bitch-out a minute?  For me, a clarklike female, I enjoy morning solitude.  The pre-dawn kind especially.  Only I don’t get much of it.  By the time I’m telling my rogerian man that morning is my creative time of day and that his talking distracts me, it’s already too late.  Some days I feel a tad guilty ‘cuz he has this endearing quality of waking up pleasant every day.  And he wants to start sharing his day immediately.  Who could ask for anything better, right?

Except on those rare days when my fingers start to itch, what creative streak I may have started brushing onto my screen is suddenly whisped away to nothing.  An almost nothing blend of blahness.  Where did those pleasing word formations go?!  Then the stupid part of my brain (the one willing to compromise) suggests to my own damn self that maybe I should just get up in the middle of the night, say 3 am, and write then.  It’ll be quiet then, right?  Fuck that!  It wouldn’t be the same.  Wouldn’t be the same as my favorite time to write. 

You get it don’t you?  The thing about dawn.  There’s something special about the time right after that first armstretch of light in the east.  A brief moment that is neither night or morning.  It’s a between time.  If you’re like me, you occasionally spot an envelope of opportunity right before the sun breaches the horizon that is…. unique.  You think “if I can just slip my finger under the lip of that envelope, pry it open ever so softly, carefully, there might be words inside that could find their way to my fingers so that each keystroke I took was imbued with the potential to release…. all sorts… of magic…

….This morning was not one of those.  At least I have the comfort of knowing creativity lurks on a horizon somewhere.  Gonna go pack a bag.  Later…..

Edging like a roger till I’m in like flint…

Hey clarks!  roger up!  If you want to get ahead, start cultivating your rogerian aspect pronto!  Emotion, man.  It’s all about emotion.  Get hungry for….emotion!  (“of course we do….no, we don’t have ice water running through our veins….damn straight we feel…..”)

Ideally, for clarks to interact successfully with rogers, we clarks need to be aware of, and be able to easily identify, the cues given off by rogers and act accordingly.  No thinking about it, as in “how do I react to that! or “should I ask that question now?”  Instead, feel the appropriate response.  It’s not simply reacting to a roger, and it’s more than simple identification with the roger.  If you are a clark, you must transcend from listening as a clark to feeling as a roger.

Interfacing (to use a somewhat modern term) with rogers is about being in a place emotionally that generates within your own (damn) self, questions.  What kind of questions?  Questions the roger(s), can relate to on an emotional level.  Questions that will engage the two of you in the commerce of emotional currency.  Trust me, you’ll know when you’ve  had this exchange of emotional currency.

 The Wakefield Doctrine tells us that clarks think, scotts act and rogers?  They feel.  So go for it!  Do it!  Try using emotion as the catalyst for (the) action.  How clarks utilize emotion is what creates (the) energy.  And isn’t that what it’s all about for we like people?  Energy?  So, clarks – ask yourself today:  “can I use the energy that results from seeing the world through a roger’s eyes, from engaging the world as a roger?”.  

Here’s my Monday challenge for all you clarks:  Try tapping into your rogerian aspect and walk through the world today as a roger would.  A world where feelings are the name of the game,  and emotional currency is king.    

Little notes got me to the other side of the Edge…

Yesterday.  It’s where this post begins and it would have been my Dad’s 95th birthday.  Known as “the Major” (he retired from the Army as a Major) to those closest to the family, he was a man of many gifts.  The gift box I possess from all that he gave me, is a neverending overflow and there is nary the space here to talk about all of them. 

Music is on the top 5 list of most treasured of gifts.  I grew up listening to my Dad play piano.  Our piano was downstairs in the finished basement of our 1950’s? raised ranch.  An old upright, it held all the magic a girl could ever want.  As was his habit during the week, the Major would come home from work, loosen the ole tie and settle in for a scotch and water and a few snicky snacks – that’s Kathleen code for cheese and crackers.  Very often it was cheese out of a jar.  Old English (no silly not the cologne!).  Do you know they still make this cheese?! 

After reading the paper and relaxing (“chilling”, the kids might say today), my Dad would head down to the basement to play the piano.  As soon as he sat down on the chair (part of an old dining room set) he “went away”.  Upstairs we (my Mom and I) often sensed where he went by what he was playing.  Let me explain:  my Dad had a natural gift for playing the piano.  By ear as they say.  His repetoire often included the classics of his day which is to say the 40’s and 50’s ( I never knew when he slipped in his originals).  Sometimes the music was melancholy other times joyful and yet at other times simply playful. 

I often would go downstairs to listen and watch.  My Dad had a particular look when he was playing that is difficult to describe – slight hunch to the shoulders, eyes appearing to look down at the keyboard but it wasn’t a keyboard he was seeing.  You could almost see time suspended.  Anyway, I think my Dad really enjoyed having an audience, even an audience of one.  (Of course upstairs, putzing around was my Mom, his biggest fan who made the audience two).

I think there were times my Dad longed for the days where he was the entertainment at parties and various functions (military and non-military).  He loved to play piano and loved that people loved that he could sit down and simply play.  Play what he thought they would like, play their requests or simply play what might come to him at that very moment.  I think the only time my Dad was really spontaneous was when he was sitting in front of a piano.

I don’t know when it started, I was pretty young but there was one piece of music my Dad loved to play for me.  It didn’t matter if I was downstairs listening beside him, (that was preferred) or whether I was upstairs helping my Mom get dinner ready.  He knew I loved hearing it, he loved playing it and to this day I cannot but smile and be thankful for the gift of his special, unique version of the March of the Wooden Soldiers, somtimes called March of the Toy Soldiers.  Thank you Dad, I was listening to you play for me all of the day that would have been your 95th birthday.

[Obviously there is no YouTube vid on the planet of your version but let me post a little something  for you.  Here’s a song gift, me to you… (“Yeah, I do know your version was better LOL”)

It’s your Q & A time at the Edge. About?

…about the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers).  About clarks, scotts and rogers.  About a simple (and fun) tool anyone can utilize to navigate life’s sometimes murky waters.  A tool that explains simply (yes, simply) why people behave in the manner in which they do.  If you can think “outside the box” you can understand and use the Wakefield Doctrine.  And, once you have “used” the Wakefield Doctrine, well, there’s just no going back**.  Who would want to? 

I have 7 questions today about the Doctrine.  I answered 6 of them.  That is correct.  You see only 6.  The last question I leave to you, any of you who would care to step over to the Edge today.

1) What is the Wakefield Doctrine?  My way of trying to get through life.

2) Is it (the Wakefield Doctrine) working?  Yes.

3) How do I know?  Just read the Doctrine.

4) How can I be sure?  You can’t.

5) Do other people use the Wakefield Doctrine?   As far as I know, people are trying to. That’s what the Doctrine is about… offering it’s “insights” to other people… to use.

6) Was it worth it?  Yes, unequivocably, without reservation. 

7)

What is your 7th question?  Afterall, everyone at some point in life walks on the Edge.  Some of us more than others, some of us by choice, some not even knowing how close they are to it and still others who wish they could…walk the Edge (the place where anything and everything is possible).  When all’s said and done, who couldn’t use a little help along the way. 

**inside joke – once you start seeing the clarks, scotts and rogers in life you can’t unsee them! lol

Hey Ma! Never knew you were so Edgewise…thank you.

My mother was a clark.  She died unexpectantly in September of 1979, 2 weeks before I was to start my sophomore year of college. (Bummer.  Grades weren’t great that semester.)  Sitting on a rather plump couch of retrospect, it becomes more clear to me just how clarklike she was.  She had many a story to tell. (no, this does not qualify her as a roger.  she was a clarklike female through and through).

Growing up I especially enjoyed the stories of her years teaching school on New York’s lower east side.  You know, before the LES got “cool”.  Traditionally a working class, immigrant  community, it was not exactly the place you’d picture a young woman teaching in the early 1940’s.  Already, a standout. (can you say “outsider” lol)   Already not following the cultural “formula”  of the day for women, she graduated from Fordham University at the age of 20.  You go girl!    

She liked to tell how she taught Ben Gazzara (the old time movie actor) back when Ben was “Benny”.  Even then, she said he was kind of obnoxious, just a little full of himself.  But there you go.  Maybe that’s what got him out of the “hood” and into Hollywood.  But there was someone else she spoke of rather fondly.  His name was “Nibsie”.  He was her Protector.  My youthful imagination cast him as a young Sal Mineo.

Before I tell the story of Nibsie I need to reference an old movie entitled “Up The Down Staircase”.   It was based on the 1965 novel by Bel Kaufman.   Both my Mom and I decided she could have written a similar story.  Only better. LOL  While the movie takes place in high school, my Mom taught 6th grade.  Which is what makes her stories all the more poignant.  Kids back then seemed older and to hear her tell it, they were.  Childhood was promise to no one.       

Story?  Since Mom lived across the river in Jersey City, she took the ferry and then the subway into the city.  As you can imagine, she had to leave quite early in the mornings to arrive before the start of school.  Conversely, as the life of a dedicated teacher would warrent, she often stayed late after school.  During the winter, that meant she would often leave school at dusk.  

Mom taught in a school where the students were tough, poor and of varying ethnicities.  That part of the city was a major melting pot if ever there was one.  Similar to a scene in the movie, Mom found herself packing up late one night and heading down the staircase.  I have trouble remembering exactly why there was a group of boys still hanging around school but there was.  And they were about to give Mom a bit of a hard time.  Don’t get me wrong, my mother was one tough cookie.  Her gaze alone could remove the clear coat from your car, but there are times when numbers matter.

As the situation escalated and she was prevented from leaving, she heard a voice from behind her.  As if not far behind and perhaps in the shadows all along, Nibsie was suddenly and silently at her side.  “Step aside Ms. Dowd and leave. Now. I’ll take care of this.  You’ll be alright.”  Mom looked at her 6th grade student standing beside her, blade in hand.  Guided now only by instinct, she did as she was told.  Angered and amazed, impressed and saddened, she lost something that day.  But she also gained something.  From that day forward, right or wrong, she had Nibsie.  She had her Protector.

P.S.  I’m guessing Nibsie was…a scott.  You can read all about clarks, scotts and rogers and the theory of the same over at the Wakefield Doctrine.

An Edgey makeover, Girlie style?

Makeover?  Really?!  Ladies? (and some men) You know what kind of makeover I’m talkin’ about.  Cosmetics.  Makeup.  We’ve all had the fantasy of putting ourselves (well, our faces anyway) into the talented hands of someone like Kevin Aucoin, (may he rest in peace), once.  At least once in our lives.  

I understand that most men don’t get it.  The makeup thing.  They will fuss at us to “hurry up! what’s taking so long?!”  if we can’t quite get the right shade of blush on our cheeks, but there’s no doubt those very men like the results of all our hard work:)   And yes, devoted boyfriends, husbands and SO’s will always tell us that we don’t “need” makeup but is that really their preference?  No makeup whatsoever?!!  Keep telling us we’re beautiful without makeup, guys.  Don’t ruin a good thing. LOL

As this blog has to do with the “eclectic musings of a clarklike female”, then it goes without saying I should tell you how we like females view makeup.  You know, as opposed to rogerian and scottian women.  (“psst, Girlie.  Again with the Wakefield Doctrine? Really?”…. It is my blog isn’t it? Huh? Huh?”)

Alright.  My producer is telling me to lighten up on the clarklike female stuff today.  So I’ll keep it short and at the base level (whatever that is).  Speaking of bases, we are not into the whole foundation thing.  Yes, there are still women who use foundation although today’s versions are not what they used to be.  Foundation can now be purchased like whipped cream in a can.  Not quite like the stuff in the red, white and blue cans but close enough, if only in texture.  

It’s true that clarklike females view the face as a palette, hell, clarks view their entire body as a palette.  An artist’s canvas upon which they can create any image.  Whatever their mood dictates at any given time.  For the most part, we like to keep it simple – mascara (a must), a little blush (not absolute) and lipstick (any form of lip coloration).  Despite popular belief, clarklike females like Uma T. and Kristen S.  often will go with more subtle accents as opposed to a full blown Christina Aguilera (scott) kind of look.  

Get to the point of today’s post?  Image.  Projected image.  One of the methods by which we can alter an individual’s perception of us is a simple,  yet proper, use of makeup (look at that word – it is the combination of 2 words:  “make” and “up”) When you make up a story you create something.  There are instances when makeup alone is not enough. When it is a matter of “walking” somewhere not typical for us, a job interview perhaps, we go for the ensemble makeover.  The whole enchilada.  Then the question becomes what is it we want people to see?  Can we project/replicate an image as well as the real thing?   

Was on Reverbnation the other day and clicked on a bass player looking for a new band.  The guy was good.  He had a few showcase clips of  himself with his former band.  They were good, pretty tight. (lead vocals could have used some tweaking but overall, good) But……their look. They needed someone…. to dress them.  No, they didn’t need makeup but they sure could have used some help in the clothing department.  Move over makeup artists, there is a demand for image consultants!  I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe their career may have taken a different path if they looked, you know, cooler.  I was immediately dressing the band  more appropriately, which is to say, cool and consistent with their age and musical bent.  Why is it so many middle aged men in bands need help in the clothing department.  LOL 

Back to the question: “what image do I/we want to project” ?  It’s just as much about what we don’t want people to see as much as what we want them to see.  Dress-up can be fun and it can be functional.  In fact, it can be a very valuable tool.  Whether it’s dressing differently or putting on a different face, it goes to creativity.  It goes to  exploring different aspects of our own selves and trying them on.  You know what they say….if you look good, you feel good.  If you feel good, you look good.  And if all’s good, all is good! (“yo! gafferboy! is Girlie on drugs today?! get her off the…shut her down…”)

“Hey!! Give me that keyboard!  Just one more paragraph.  I promise!”

For readers who are familiar with the Wakefield Doctrine, the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers, I am NOT saying that applying more or a certain type of makeup will make you more scottian.  I am NOT saying that achieving a perfect balance of color(s) will help you blend in as a roger nor am I saying the proper shade of red on your lips will give you a clarklike edge.  What I am saying is that we have more control than we think about how we are percieved by others.  Sometimes it’s as simple as a smile, a tone of voice or a well timed look. 

[Later in the studio –
“Alright missy, what was that shit?”
“I don’t know what you mean?”
“Like hell you don’t.  Where was the substance, the meat of it?”
“I got lost.  Thought I had something….did have something.  And then it went away.  Too many distractions”
“You know your contract’s almost up, right?  And you know I love you, but ya better fix things pronto or we’re pullin the plug!”

Resources at the Edge. Renewable or Sustainable?

“Nothing is scarier than the truth”….  “Would it tear you apart…would you scream it from the rooftops down until it’s over and you’re older…” 

Alright.  Today was a bad day.  No, no.  This is not one of those.  I don’t have those “gee, I had a bad day today – my boss yelled at me, I had 3 people quit on me, my husband/wife wrecked the car, my ipad got stolen…,”.  At least in my mind I don’t.  I don’t have “a bad day”  like that because I don’t measure it against the backdrop of a typical ok, moving along at a pleasant pace, life.  Life for this Girlie has taken a detour -a rather wide gaping turn to the left at that.  Stopping  just this side of ,well, you know where.  So how do I qualify a “bad day”?

In case I don’t mention it elsewhere, include this post in the “bad day” as already I’m off to a not so good start.  The rogers who are reading have already pointed their cursors (in unison) to the back button or, at the very least, are now giving their computers a verbal cue to “abort present page and go to…” 

I know!!  The writing is stodgy, the flow not so flowy and the context…is there any?!  (“What the hell is she talking about” is what you’re really saying)  I mean, where’s the feeling, man?  Where’s the special k of an enjoyable GirlieOnTheEdge post?    Damn.  I know what you’re thinking and I agree. (the post stinks. get it outta here!)  What constitutes a bad day is extremely subjective.  For me, a bad day is one in which I do not feel as if I have been productive.  And I’m not talking silly shit like cleaning the house, walking the dog or anything like that.  I’m talking about the kind of bad day where I flounder about like the proverbial fish out of water.  How awful is that?  Have you seen a fish flail around on the hard, dry ground gasping for air, trying to find it’s way back to it’s watery habitat where only minutes ago it was happy and carefree?!

The one thing I realize at the end of this non-productive day is that I sort of redeemed myself and the day (if  just a teeny tiny bit. no? really?) by sitting down at the computer and coming here.  To the Edge.  One more time.   One more time to throw some words up on the giant (only in my mind) screen in hopes that one day I will get better at doing this thing and that one day I may know that others enjoy it as much as I do. 

Note to the clarks out there
:  1) Yes, lists are good; 2)  Prioritized lists are better and realistic ones more so; 3) Ya better have a backup plan* to the original because without it, there’s a chance you may feel a fish out of water; 4) Never take your eye off of Distraction.
* The word “plan”, especially if capitalized, should be tossed from your vocabulary.  Hint: subsitute the word “option”.  Sounds more relevant and feels a tad less odious.  LOL

Also, to my friend Lunchbox Lenny  – “it’s OK Lenn, to be this way.  To write this way, ya know, as a clark to clarks, every once in a while.  Because I know they’ll get something, somehow out of this jumbltron ‘o words:)”