Surprises Blog circa 05/01/06

I have always found myself rather unemotional when instances arise that should presumably "shock" me according to societal norms.

When a nameless Indian man masturbating in his parked car to the tune of Orange County traffic crossed my path on a random visit to the local Rite Aid, I greeted him with disgust rather than shock. It was the middle of the day and we were both amid soft fluffy clouds and delightful families out making group trips to the local Vietnamese supermarket.

In another stone-faced instance, I found myself wonderously fascinated at a 90s Bon Jovi concert with my mother when the Jovi fan in front of me decided a change of venue was in order and stood to scout a better seating arrangement. South of her rather fabulous breasts, she wore a thong and fish net stocking "pants." I shit you not. She wondered why everyone was staring at her and I just smiled as she dusted off the loose pieces of grass that happened to get caught in between her "pants" and her superfluous butt cheeks.

I could go on forever about how little things in life surprise me, but I suppose that could take much longer to read than the average 13 hours a day the individual spends on MySpace. I'm guilty of a rather frequent number of log ins myself, but like a man and his ego, I shall remain quiet until absolutely necessary.

What has struck me in life and is a direct reference to the "I love the things in life that catch me offguard" in my "About Me" section, are the events in life where an explanation cannot be found...at least not while you're alive. It is the mystery and not knowing that throws me for that wonderful loop. I swirl around until the adrenaline is so strong, I feel like my brain has been injected with asking questions about the "unspeakable."

They say advertising is like injecting information to the brain with a needle. A long, silver, corporation-type needle. So what about the questions that arose pre information? What about the effort it took to get to the answer? Are we not supposed to question the question anymore and simply aim for the answer?

I question life all the time. When the questions course through my veins mid dream and mid night, I can feel myself smiling.

Let's just cut to the chase because by now, if you're still with me, you must really jock my writing, be one hell of a curious cat, or just really love me THAT much.

What exactly are the things I question that inevitably throw me offguard when nothing else does?

In no particular order:

THE DEATHS OF PEOPLE ABOUT/AROUND MY AGE.
I know life is what it is and things happen for a reason, but it never fails to surprise me in the deepest way when the young suddenly leave. There is a general "supposed to" sequence of events that I have applied to life, and when the supposed order is thrown off sequence, I cry.

RACISM BY 70 SOMETHING YEAR OLD WHITE MEN LIVING IN A PURELY ASIAN COMMUNITY.
Yeah, I shouldn't be surprised. The man was a war vet that insisted upon bragging about how he killed my people in the Vietnam War. I told him to take a good look around at where he was living before he dared tried to pull his eyes apart in the "fuck chinks" demonstration. With hands shaking about ready to kick some butt, I found the strength and sanity to let him go.

It had started because he had wanted my gas pump at the station.

WHEN SOMEONE TELLS YOU THEY LOVE YOU.
It's not that I don't believe in love. Anyone who actually knows me knows I've been a real patron of the emotion since somewhere in Summer of 2003. I know myself better than anyone, so naturally I believe myself when I say the notorious 3 syllable/word phrase to another. But when someone else says it, I remain the critic. Who knows you better than you? I won't know that you really love me until God grants me the power to read minds, or at least until I die and get to ask Him for myself. I think I'd rather do that. He IS going to be my cloud hopping buddy, after all.

WHEN I COME ACROSS A CORE SHAKER.
Definition of a core shaker according to MOI: The people in life who change you. Who scare you, shape you, MOVE you. The ones who arise from the smallest or largest of crevices and push you over the edge to make you fly. The ones you never forget because you can't. My homeless friend in Frisco would be exhibit A.

WHEN I COME ACROSS PEOPLE THAT CAN ACTUALLY READ ME.
I've been called an onion. Think you got me figured out and you realize that it's only one layer amid an inevitable 50. The person who truly gets me in this life, will be my ultimate core shaker. If it means never, it means never. Sorry, I don't know how to be 3 dimensional. Too narrow a range.

60+ YEAR OLD COUPLES STILL RIDICULOUSLY IN LOVE.
I've seen it once and only once. He dared to call her a dork for getting a sheepskin boot stuck on her foot while she was trying them on, so she swatted him as they laughed histerically while trying to tug the trendy item from off her size 7 foot. They'd been together for over 30 years. It was their laughter that made me look forward to getting old.

WHEN PEOPLE TELL ME I GET THEM BETTER THAN ANYONE.
People never like to admit that they're vulnerable. If someone truly understands all of you, you show vulnerability to them. I've been told by a friend whom I never talked to (at that time) more than once a week, that I simply "got him" and that I was one of his closest friend. It simply surprises me when I play such a weighting factor in a person's life.


AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST FOR NOW...(CUZ SHIT I'M GETTING TIRED AS I'M SURE YOU ARE TOO)

WHEN I SEE PEOPLE WHO DON'T JUDGE THE PEOPLE SOCIETY BREEDS YOU TO JUDGE.
I've seen it more than once, but less than 2 recently. A regular at the gym and a Down's Syndrome kid to boot stood by my side lifting 10lbs dumbells in a mimicking movement of the numerous male meatheads surrounding him. With uncomfortable glances and steps to avoid his presence from society-bred children, the kid regular continued to throw his dumbells up and down in an innocent and uninformed manner. One guy about my age walks towards the kid and offers him advice on correct form so as to avoid injury from the exercise. Further initiating his admirable angel wings, he asks the boy if the weights are too heavy. Close up, the act may be simplistic and quiet. Farther back, the act is vociferous and complex. The angel exhibits a rare characteristic lost on much of the world's population. To not judge those we have been bred to judge takes an opening of the eyes. There was no incentive for him to act. He wouldn't win a medal or brownie points for helping. He simply did it because he wanted to.
THAT'S A CORE SHAKER.

If ever you surprise me kids, I'll be thrilled. Life's become too predictable I suppose. Much like blockbuster film. Or the cheesiness of an Adam Sandler film