I watched a movie the other day while laying lazy in bed…and I’m not ashamed to admit that, while the movie itself wasn’t that great, the subject matter brought a tear to my eyes. Hell, it had me blubbering.
The name of the movie was “The Karen Carpenter Story “, starring Cynthia Gibb in the title role.
This movie was a thumbnail view of Karen’s life story…but what had me saddened were the ‘live’ performances, ably lip-synched by Gibb.
In February 1983, at the age of 32, Karen Carpenter’s life ended. On that day, the world lost one of it’s most beautiful singers.
Carpenter’s voice was like a combination of all of the best instruments known to mankind—the mellow voice of a cello, the smooth range of an oboe and clarinet, the power of a French horn, and the magical quality of a flute.
I can hardly listen to “A Song for You,” or “Hurting Each Other” without crying.
And I’m man enough to admit it.
The first LP I ever bought was one by the Carpenter’s…my mom let me order it from the “Columbia Record and Tape Club” (circa 1973 or so). I will always remember the way Karen’s voice made me feel…and the nostalgia it still brings to me.
It’s been going on a quarter century since Karen died…I hope that someone, somewhere, is always listening to her sing.
And so it goes…
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Saturday, April 15, 2006
Life Trek: The Next Generation
Death. It’s just one of those things that we all have to face someday…but somehow we all try to ignore that fact--until someone presses our noses into its smelly truth.
When a great-grandparent dies, there’s a little sadness, but at least you know that Grandma or Grandpa are going to carry on with the little ways of life that your great grandparent started. When one of your grandparents die, you miss them, because they have been a big part of your life (in most cases).
But when a parent dies, there is something much more immediate to that passing. Perhaps it’s the physical connection—after all, these are the people who gave you life, and now their own is over.
Or perhaps it is the intimation of our own mortality that is proven by the fact that our progenitors are dead; therefore, we too will someday die.
Or maybe it’s the fact that, with the passing of our parents generation, there is no other generation that is slated for demise but our own. No longer two, or even three generations lie ahead of us under the Grim Reaper’s scythe. No, when our parents go, we can hear the wind whistling under his blade, and we now know that the next time the blade falls, it is our turn.
Mortality has but one drawback—and that is the fact of its existence. Death is assured. As a noted science fiction author once put it, “Life is just the daily putting off of the inevitable.”
And so it goes…
When a great-grandparent dies, there’s a little sadness, but at least you know that Grandma or Grandpa are going to carry on with the little ways of life that your great grandparent started. When one of your grandparents die, you miss them, because they have been a big part of your life (in most cases).
But when a parent dies, there is something much more immediate to that passing. Perhaps it’s the physical connection—after all, these are the people who gave you life, and now their own is over.
Or perhaps it is the intimation of our own mortality that is proven by the fact that our progenitors are dead; therefore, we too will someday die.
Or maybe it’s the fact that, with the passing of our parents generation, there is no other generation that is slated for demise but our own. No longer two, or even three generations lie ahead of us under the Grim Reaper’s scythe. No, when our parents go, we can hear the wind whistling under his blade, and we now know that the next time the blade falls, it is our turn.
Mortality has but one drawback—and that is the fact of its existence. Death is assured. As a noted science fiction author once put it, “Life is just the daily putting off of the inevitable.”
And so it goes…
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Some are more equal than others...
All things being equal, I’d rather be in America.
Where else can you find a country that is so willing to be a “melting pot” that we are considering allowing illegal—ILLEGAL—aliens the right to work in our country, with the prize at the end the chance at citizenship?
What people don’t seem to get is that it is breaking the law. That is the very definition of illegality. And now we are going to host “Guest workers.” Guest workers? What kind of euphemism is that? These are people who have come here illegally, are taking jobs from citizens, and eating resources that could be distributed among the needy citizens of the United States. As one editorialist put it, “We don’t mind ‘guest workers’ so much; however, we do mind ‘guest criminals’ in our jails, ‘guest patients’ in our hospitals, and ‘guest students’ in our schools.”
The language barrier posed by having approximately 12.5 million illegal immigrants in this country is astounding…and distressing. I went to my bank’s ATM yesterday, and for the first time, it asked me to press this button if I wanted my instructions in English, and that button if I wanted my instructions “en Espanol”. This really pisses me off! There should be no option for people living in this country. English may not be our ‘official’ language (an oversight for which I condemn our founding fathers), but it sure as hell is our ‘lingua franca’, the tongue spoken by the majority of the people.
I’ve said it before, and I’ve said it again: If we can’t communicate, how the hell are we ever going to get along?
Ship the illegal immigrants back where they came from…and bill their home countries for the cost of shipping. Then, put up a REAL border. Anyone comes across it illegally, gets a warning shot. If they don’t turn around, they are in violation of our laws, and should be treated as criminals and either deported or shot.
And so it goes…
Where else can you find a country that is so willing to be a “melting pot” that we are considering allowing illegal—ILLEGAL—aliens the right to work in our country, with the prize at the end the chance at citizenship?
What people don’t seem to get is that it is breaking the law. That is the very definition of illegality. And now we are going to host “Guest workers.” Guest workers? What kind of euphemism is that? These are people who have come here illegally, are taking jobs from citizens, and eating resources that could be distributed among the needy citizens of the United States. As one editorialist put it, “We don’t mind ‘guest workers’ so much; however, we do mind ‘guest criminals’ in our jails, ‘guest patients’ in our hospitals, and ‘guest students’ in our schools.”
The language barrier posed by having approximately 12.5 million illegal immigrants in this country is astounding…and distressing. I went to my bank’s ATM yesterday, and for the first time, it asked me to press this button if I wanted my instructions in English, and that button if I wanted my instructions “en Espanol”. This really pisses me off! There should be no option for people living in this country. English may not be our ‘official’ language (an oversight for which I condemn our founding fathers), but it sure as hell is our ‘lingua franca’, the tongue spoken by the majority of the people.
I’ve said it before, and I’ve said it again: If we can’t communicate, how the hell are we ever going to get along?
Ship the illegal immigrants back where they came from…and bill their home countries for the cost of shipping. Then, put up a REAL border. Anyone comes across it illegally, gets a warning shot. If they don’t turn around, they are in violation of our laws, and should be treated as criminals and either deported or shot.
And so it goes…
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