Wasting Valuable Brain Waves

Posts have been spotty, I know, I know. But then again who has noticed??? Anyone...anyone...anyone?

Anyway, I have been swamped between work, my very last class, and working on my thesis that I have precious few brain waves left at the end of the day to think of anything to post much less to take on the task of actually writing it down.

Yes, there have been a few inspiring moments I could have written about. I could have shared with you how my clawless cat kicked my 50 lb dog's ass and when I had the audacity to break up the fight I was attacked in the back thigh by a flying clawless cat. Or how my daughter performed in her school talent show and how the music teacher and a fourth grade teacher actually performed a Violent Femmes song as part of the production. Who knew? At least it wasn't the masturbation themed song. Or I could have mentioned knocking elbows with a notorious District Attorney who has been scathingly portrayed in the media this past year at the local Mexican restaurant.

Since I have been busy with other much more boring and demanding stuff that would not make good blog material, you wouldn't think I would have time to contemplate the more mundane things in life, like vanity license plates. Sometimes they're just hard to figure out, other times you can clearly read what they say but you have no idea what would possess someone to put that on their license plate. You remember the Seinfeld episode where Kramer (can I still talk about him without being arrested by the PC police?) mistakenly gets the ASSMAN plate and is followed by hilarious absurdity in various driving situations? Well, I had a similar experience on Tuesday on my way to class. I was driving behind a later model Trans Am. There was a vanity license plate on the car which I noticed said COCKMAN. I spent the whole 10 minutes on the rest of my drive thinking about what that could possibly mean and came up with these possible scenarios

1. The car's owner raises cocks for fighting and therefore is known as the man to go to for a good cock fighter. Need a good cock, come see me I'm the cockman.

2. The car's owner is incredibily proud of his member and therefore proudly proclaims he is the man with the cock. Hey, girls look at me, I'm the Cockman!

3. The car's owner likes cock so much that he must let fellow drivers know that he is the man who loves cock. Looking for a good time, call me I'm the Cockman.

4. Or it could be the obvious, his last name is Cockman. Nice to meet you, I'm Mr. Richard Cockman, Dick for short.

I think this should serve as proof that I may be spending too much brain activity on seemingly useless stuff. But it didn't end with my private speculations, I had to go and get my husband involved. He thought Scenario #2 was the most likely, knowing first hand about a man's ego. He didn't think that scenario #3 was likely, being we are dangerously close to the Bible belt. He thought #1 was possible, but not probable because although rednecks love cock fighting it still is illegal activity. And #4 was too boring to consider.

The more he thought about (now I have him wasting brain waves when he could be doing more important things like discussing the deeper meanings of human existence or taking out the trash ), the more he wondered why the DMV would allow such obscenities to grace the state license plate. He then said what if he decided to go get ASS FUCK on his plate, would the DMV allow him?

Probably not. But I guarantee that if they did and if I'm driving behind him I'm sure as hell going to try to figure out what it means.

And then it will be internet fodder with a click of a mouse.

Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

I just saw on my Yahoo homepage that U2's The Joshua Tree turned 20 today. Sheesh, I feel old! I can't believe that it has been 2 decades since that album came out. I was younger than the number of years that have elapsed since it's release-to put it in perspective. And yes, you read right, I first got it on album, LP, you know the big vinyl disk that can be played on 33 1/3 speed on a phonograph (which can be characterized as antique). At least it wasn't 8 Track. I had experienced those, but mostly because my Dad was too lazy to return his rejects to Columbia House. That's how I acquired Kiss Alive II, I really don't think my Dad was too much of a fan of them. We had Rumors on 8 Track and my all time fave-Pure Power which was K-Tel compilation that included such gems as Dream Weaver, Hard Luck Woman, and the Theme from Mahogany (Do You Know Where You're Going To?)

Anyway, I clearly remember when The Joshua Tree came out and buying it after school at the local record store and sitting in my room listening to it fresh out of the wrapper. All those interesting pictures of the desert and the Joshua Trees to peruse on the inside sleeve. The spinning, spinning, spinning of that disk that brought light and truth into my adolescent existence. It would be an understatement to say that I was a huge U2 fan back in the day. Ever since I saw them on Night Flight during a babysitting job singing Sunday, Bloody Sunday at Red Rocks I was won over and had to get my hands on every release, The Unforgettable Fire, Boy, October, War, the live Under a Blood Red Sky. These were my staples and I think I had most of these on cassette tape, except for the Unforgettable Fire which was in album form in my collection.

The culmination of my obsession with this Irish band was when the very first time I met my husband and we argued over who was better-U2 or The Beatles. You can guess what side of the argument I was on. (Disclaimer: I was so naive back then) Not that I'm denying my affection for U2, but I now realize U2 would not have been able to do what they did if not for what the Beatles did so many years before, which again to put into perspective the same amount of time had elapsed from when the Beatles put out The White Album and my husband and I engaged in our first argument as have elapsed since the Joshua Tree was released and now. It seemed like an eternity had passed when I thought about the artists from the late 1960's that I enjoyed during my college days. I wondered what it had been like to bring home a copy of Sgt. Peppers when first released and listening to it for the first time ever. Little did I know at that time that there would someday be people who thought the same thing about The Joshua Tree.

It reminds me of how time keeps marching on and the only way we can fathom the passing of time is by referencing the memories we hold onto. I have to remind myself when I think wistfully of what seems like a simpler time in my life that one day I'm going to look back on this time in my life and think the same thing. I guess I'm just looking for some way to help make the passage of time not so depressing and bearable. So after climbing every mountain and scaling each city wall, I can't say that I have found what I'm looking for either. But I think I'm getting closer....