Archive for the 'Everyday Aphorisms' Category


Weather-Talk and the Conversation Onion

Conversation is like an great big Vidalia Onion with inedible outer layers and peeled-back inner ones that become more poignant and sweet the deeper you peel all the way into that center little oval that is often much too dense to consume and is, instead, tossed out with the peeled-off skin and replaced with honey and butter and the best way to cook a true Vidalia is to wrap it in tin foil and put it in the microwave and the honey-butter boils together and saturates the edible parts of the onion and you can then take it out and its so dank you can cut it with a fork like a well-prepared prime rib and then eat the petals one by one, slowly inserting into the mouth and closing also with the eyes as if a smooth-faced actress of a Parfait commercial.

As if looking on oneself from just beyond, as if in a dream, looking down at the back of the head from five feet and fourty-five degrees up and through the back of the head, a conversation, whether with an old friend at an impromptu reunion or a stranger on the sidewalk or in a Southwest airplane seat, has definite layers that are defined according to  commonalities that may exist between the converse-e and oneself.  The top, outermost layer, as with the onion, is the weather.  The temperature, the sun, the rain and wind: it’s what we all share everyday and it’s what we can start with and talk about in the form of ‘how are you’ and ‘it’s a beautiful day to be alive’ or a ‘how bout that rain, be careful out there’, ‘is it cold enough for ya?’

We go on and on in short bursts with gas station clerks and then we leave, but therein there is a soft connection as there was a sharing of each of our respective days and for a moment there was an “our day” and in that moment there is contact and that is beautiful as it, the contact, is what is most important to most of us.  In a small or big way or in another way, we need and strive for weather-talk connectiveness, whether genealogically or subconsciously, each of which is beyond our control, and also on purpose.  We strive to connect to the world around us and, at some point in every day, to feel included in the conversation, even if only a little bit.

Behind The Weather is, if you live in a big to medium sized city, The Traffic. Shortly there-deeper, as the walls of inhibition begin to fall, there lies the subjects of Mutual Friends, Mutual Experiences, Work, The Kids and, behind implications of sworn secrecy, What’s Really Going On and Hopes and Dreams and, falling in where they fit in, jokes, jokes, jokes, we’ve got jokes and laughs and silent moments of nourished comfort because someone else understands and here, within the deepest part of my onion right next to the core, “I am not alone.”

But such levels of deep connection are rare and all too often are very, very brief.  Usually, like in my family’s Prime Rib Vidalia Petals recipe,  the core of us, while in conversation, is far too dense for consumption and certainly far too private and vulnerable and valuable for sharing.  Most of the time, it’s easier to add honey and butter and heat the rest of ourselves up in the microwave and serve ourself hot and succulently sweet and we prefer this from our friends and from strangers and most of the time (93.9%), this is truly the best way to connect with those with whom we share OUR LIVES with in each day and it’s the way we should remember yesterday, with honey and butter in lieu of the core, which is far too precious to be treated as hors d’ouevres in open spaces, but, in and out of different degrees of invitation, all within the perpetual inter-depth communicational intentions upon connection, this is how we live forever today.

The We of us is a great matrix-esque network of variable conversations that move in and out of each individual with whom we encounter as if there was a pulsating slightly opaque and glowing neon sphere that starts at the base of a man’s chest and spreads out a little bit in every gas station ‘Hey how ya doin, is it hot enough for ya’ and in the response of the other man or woman’s onion-sphere stretches just a little bit and the two spheres overlap for a minute and maybe information is passed or perhaps just a smile and a brief nod with the eyes and then they leave and their respective spheres of influence draw back to within the chest to their core, which is, even if only a little bit, nourished and a bit stronger and, to a certain extent, each are more wise, as if a piece of the others’ perspective was traded just now and it will surely be traded again with another stranger, friend, family member or loved one and we, each of us, are great and wonderful and stupid and wise because, within each of us, there is everyone.

Within every conversation, there is a transaction of life.

Do More Now.


Everyday Aphorisms: Rocking Chairs

My now “facebook official” girlfriend told me this the other day and I think I’ve passed it on at least thrice by now:

Worrying is like a Rocking Chair,

It’ll give you plenty to do,

But it won’t get you anywhere.

…How true?  Thanks babe.

Do More Now


Everyday Aphorisms: Adventure

Every situation is what you make of it; nothing more nor nothing less.


Everyday Aphorisms: Firehydrants

Actually, Men are not so much more well evolved than dogs.  Aren’t we all just continually looking for a new fire hydrant to pee on?

My Previous Vocabulary.

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