I'm lost, I'm lost... Find me!

By this blog it seems I live half my life in yesteryear. Anywho...

The good part:

A friend yesterday loaned me the first season of Land of the Lost on DVD. I realize only now what a profound impact it must have had on me as a kid.

It isn't Lidsville, Sigmund, or Pufnstuf. It's actually pretty dark ... and, in spite of the overacting, damn good. I had nightmares about being cornered by Sleestak in the Lost City. And now my kids are as hooked as I was. I mean they LOVE it.

The depressing part is this: There's a movie version coming out. It's described as a drama/COMEDY, starring Will Ferrell.

I admit it, the Brady Bunch Movie was campy and fun. But with all these old TV shows being rejiggered for the big screen, it makes the stuff I grew up with seem cheap, like a big joke. That's my fear.

Yeah, there was some bad acting in Land of the Lost. But it had good writers. And for a sci-fi kids show, it was pretty hardcore. Characters got badly hurt or slipped into other dimensions, and dinosaurs ate each other.

That being said, I'll probably like the remake... making this rant nothing of consequence. Where's my beer?

Father's Day

At the water park
you don't feel so out of shape
you eat fried foods
sit on damp grass
and play guess their age
after a certain time
we're all "old" anyway
we slow down and pick up fat and wrinkles and balding patterns and cankles
meanwhile
the real youth fly
through neon play equipment
collecting scabs and sunburns
in a haze of hot dog smoke
on to tomorrow

Freaking out at the imprinting thing...

My youngest is four months old, and he smiles. A lot.

What I want to know is, what the hell is he smiling at?

I make funny faces, funny sounds. Oo-ba-doo-bee. Shit like that. But what, specifically, makes the grin crack?

Is he copying my smile? Are my words and faces THAT pleasing to look at? Or is it my intent that elicits the response?

If parents never smiled, would their babies never smile, too?

Red Sweater

fiddles and cakes
bitches and flakes
a hand scrubbed hard
with lemon scented lard
in a kitchen with black and white tiles
and one red tile
Coca-cola signs over the sink
all retro and shit
dreaming of showtimes,
a man-sized girl
sitting in a thin steel chair
pasta slipped through the stovetop coils
burnt black
don't look back
eating alone
with a cat
still in her work clothes
jewelry on
she'll make the Disney dream fit

The Mind is a Terrible Thing to Taste

Welcome to the post that will get me labeled as a weak-willed whacko susceptible motivational crapspeak.

So I've been checking out the "how to succeed" book section at work. These are the kinds of books I've avoided since I first dabbled in them as a confused teen (I once wanted to be a cop, going so far as wearing a tan trenchcoat, a la Columbo), before opting for books for artistic enjoyment or facts.

A few years ago, as I was wrapping up my personal Year Of Hell, a friend's dad recommended that I read "Think and Grow Rich" by Napoleon Hill. It contained the key to life, he said. Read it. Know it. Live it. And you'll be OK.

I had never heard of Napoleon Hill. But my friend's dad was so adamant, I bought the book and forced myself to read 50 pages, until I felt ready to puke.

BOR-ING.

Fast forward a few years. I've now read the entire book and even listened to the audio version. I've also read J. Paul Getty's "How to Live Rich," Bob Proctor's "You Were Born Rich," and a few other sales/motivational tomes. Which is really funny when you think that, 20 years ago, I was sitting in my mom's house, mirthfully running my fingers through the 30 joints I had just rolled, giggling like Scrooge McDuck.

So why am I reading these things?

I don't know. But I know it has something to do with my way of thinking, and probably a bit about where I've been, where I am, and where I want to go.

What I'm learning from these books is that I haven't been preparing for success as much as I've been trying not to fail. For example, I used to say I was always motivated best by desperation. There certainly seems to be truth in this. Proctor, for example, teaches about creating vacuums by getting rid of things you don't want to make room for the things you do want, even if you don't have the money to buy them. You're actually acquiring the need.

Anyway, before, I had lots of confidence. But I was confident only in my ability to work hard, not to get ahead. When I had success, I was always just pleasantly surprised. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised. I should expect to reach my goals, and carry on as though I will.

Just thinking out loud here.

I realize a lot of these books are produced by self-promotional wingnuts who had little to sell but their own mouth. Hill is still a boring read, who goes a little overboard with his "master mind" and "power of sex transmutation" crap. But it's not all bullshit I suppose.