Recently, after some Lebonese dinner across town, my wife said, “There’s an ice cream place only two blocks away. Let’s go!”
I was already full. Case in point: She was toting a box of leftovers but I was not. Mine had been crammed down my gullet. This scenario would soon allow me to put my advanced decision-making skills on display.
We walked into the shop and it was what I like to describe as “Portland cute.” The place was constructed to look post-industrial. This means concrete walls, vaulted ceilings with lots of duct work, lighting fixtures that hang all the way down from the ceiling and, of course, the pièce de résistance of the Portland eatery scene: the fake garage door. Those things are ubiquitous around here, perhaps even on par with the fedora and other trendy chapeaux.
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Loving What You Regurgitate
Another Regurgitation Sunday is upon us. Time for me to reach deep into the annals of blog history and dig out another piece of poop. I do hope I spelled that correctly.
This morning whilst searching the internet for a motivational quote related to the word “ascribing” I came across the following nugget of joy:
Naturally that reminded me of the good old days back in November 2009 when I wrote a steaming piece of shit entitled: Thoughts on “loving what you do”
Those were good times so that instantly became today’s pick of the
kitty litter. I’m not one to stare down the barrel of coincidence and blink. I’m not about to ignore the fates that brought this piece of digital flotsam my way.
If you will allow me the temporary hubris of paraphrasing Steve Jobs:
The only way to produce great shits is to shit what you shit. And have a
shitboss in position of authority above you.
–Tom B. Taker
Unless you love what you do, please click the following link to be transported to the magical land of yesterlore.
Regurgitated: Thoughts on “loving what you do”
I recently had a deep thought.
Life is lived one week at a time.
–Tom B. Taker
Let’s take a look at a typical week then, shall we? We’ll use my patented Poop Colored Glasses with Capitalism Tint.
In other words, this look is founded on a work-based viewpoint.
A lot of work-based people tend to favor Friday. They have it up on some kind of pedestal. Well, not me! Why? Because Friday is the work day closest to Monday. And it’s still a day where you actually go to work. Sorry, Friday. That puts you squarely in the Shit bin.
“Holy Time” is my description of the time between Friday at 5pm and midnight. Seven golden hours of goodness. This section of time is the most removed from going back to work. Unfortunately it’s also the smallest damn piece of the whole friggin’ pie.
Saturday is a pretty good day. It’s preceded by Holy Time, which is good, and to its credit, is also followed by a day that is not work. Therefore this day is “Good.” That’s high praise from the likes of me.
Sunday is a bit of a quandary. Since it is followed by a work day, it’s a very melancholy time. Yeah, it’s not as bad as work, but it is being chased by an ominous black cloud of death. Technically speaking, Sunday is a day tainted by evil. But it’s still not work. So this day we will classify as Tainted and/or Mediocre.
This graph is actually incomplete. It’s missing the slice that consists of the last two hours before bed on a Sunday night. This slice, if it had been shown, would have been represented with the terminology “Despair.” Technically it’s know worse than any work night yet is somehow amplified by the freedom that was just tasted.
The rest of the 168 hours in the life unit known as the “week” fall into a bucket known simply as Shit. This is, by far, the biggest piece of the life of pie. And I think that pretty much sums it up.
An Abyss Revival
Yikes. I’m running out of time for today’s post. I’m going to take the cheap way out. Since it’s Sunday I figured what the hell, how about a little atheist religious music?
Yes, I’m an atheist. I really try not to talk about it too much, though. But I don’t shy away from it, either. And by atheist religious music I don’t mean music that celebrates atheism. I don’t know if there is such a thing. Maybe death metal. No, I simply mean religious music that this particular atheist happens to like. 🙂
Is it a bit weird that I do? My music tastes are very far ranging and eclectic, and yes, some religious stuff is included. Some, not a lot. Religion actually has quite a bit to do with who I am. I grew up in a religious home and was an altar boy at the local Episcopalian church. When I was 16 I flirted with Mormonism, mainly because I had a lot of friends who were Mormons and the local temple had the very best indoor basketball court in town. A year later I was born again.
In my early 20’s I eventually explored a bit on my own and realized that I was an atheist. It was a militant thing. It was just a realization I came to, a belief that seemed right for me. Hell, I’d love to believe in God. I mean, who wouldn’t? I don’t find the thought of dissipating into nothingness particularly appealing. Who would? Studies have even linked a belief in a higher being to having a happier life. But I don’t believe. It’s not the sort of thing that can be faked, eh? I guess I have to make do without that little boost.
Anyway, here are a couple religious songs that I particularly enjoy.
I once saw Ricky Skaggs perform this song live in a very small venue. It was festival seating and I had arrived early enough to guarantee myself a front row seat. I was about 10 feet away from him at the microphone. The announcer said that Ricky wasn’t feeling well that evening and there was some question as to whether or not he would perform. Eventually the announcer said he would, and because he was sick, asked everyone not to smoke to help his voice. (Thank God!) Ricky hit the stage and gave a performance that kicked ass. It was brilliant, and this was him sick? It far exceeded any other live performance I’d ever seen in my life. At the end, when he came out for an encore, he asked for song suggestions and someone shouted out “Little Mountain Church House,” a song I knew very well thanks to my Ricky Skaggs collection. The lights dimmed until it was only Ricky, the microphone and his guitar. He performed the song without his band. There I was, 10 feet away, and it was the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. To this day I consider it the closest I’ve ever been to a religious experience in my entire life.
Um, yeah, ok, here’s the song! Enjoy! 🙂