Tuesday, February 7, 2012

ROBBLOG # 376


It's February.

I’m sitting here thinking of shaving my head and getting a big tattoo just above the crack of my butt.
What else is there to do or think about?

I'm not up for an Academy Award, a Genie or even a Juno this year.
I'm not doing any theatre, therefore- since I'm not learning dialogue, I have a lot of free time on my hands.
There's no renovation going on around the house like last year when a new master bath was under construction.
No painting either since that was all done last year at this time.
So, I have no cleanup duties to perform.

Since my family has dis-owned me and would rather not have me around- I'm such a bastard you know, that frees up a lot of time.
Yes, a lot of time!
Now I have even more time to think about devious ways to be a bastard to people who are outside my family.
Wait!
I've done that too.
Yes siree, being a bastard offers one a bunch of free time to do a bunch of important stuff.
Best of all it's free.
Doesn't cost me a cent.

Now listen, I am just having you on.
I am not a bastard.
I'm just passing time.
At least I don't believe that I am- no matter what people say.
Why?
What have you heard?
Nevermind.

I guess my day-to-day life seems pretty dull and calm compared to the rich and famous and media types.
I work and shop at the local WalMart.
I watch a bit of TV.
I read a book or two now and then. Right now it's Margaret Trudeau's "Changing my Mind".
It made me cry today.
What she went through with Pierre and loosing Michel to an avalanche.
She's been to hell and back but is still going strong.

Up next I go back and finish a book about Atheism. The jist of the book being that religion poisons everything.
A truthful read but heavy going.

Then, I watched a movie about the end of the world the other night. Light disppears and it's all dark. Most of it anyway- except here in Canada where life just goes on as normal.
Isn't it great living in this country knowing that the imaginary boarder protects us from all kinds of crap and nasty stuff?
It was a bit of a spooky film though. Shadowy shapes waiting for someone human to leave the "light" and snap them up and leave all their clothes and shoes and jewellery just lying in the street.
Funny though...
Only their outside clothes remained but not their underwear. So, wherever these shadowy figures live, they all stand around in their tighty whities.
The other night I flipped by another freeky film- Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. Fine performances from Joan Crawford and Better
Davis. A black and white film.
The first time I saw it on Television had to be on the old  21 inch black and white when I still lived at home. It brings back terrible childhood memories.
Not the movie- my family!
We were the last to have a colour television set. I was mortified when friends would come over and see an old console model black and white flickering away in my parent’s living room. We were too poor to have a rec room.

Oh, but the console was handsome in its day. Twenty one inches of glorious back and white screen. A turntable with 78, 45 and 33 r.p.m. speeds. An AM/FM Radio that lit up all green and red and sounded wonderful-even when I played my scratchy albums. There was an old 8 track in that console too.
Wow! Music on tape and not on a vinyl record. It was magical at the time.
The wave of the future!
The B&W console had stereo speakers with fuzzy brown covers interspersed with gold thread.
It was very pretty.
When I was alone in the house, I loved cranking the set up full blast to hear Motown artists reverberate throughout the room. Little nick-knacks shivered and shook on the shelves that were attached to the wall above.
It was heaven!

This all changed though when colour televisions became the norm. The black and white console became uninspiring and old-fashioned. We never had another console TV at my parent’s home. When the colour television came into the house it was called a Portable Television-even though it weighed a ton. It was housed in a brown metal cabinet that had a wooden, mac-tack type of covering on it. It was a beauty though.
Seeing the Beverley Hillbillies in colour was remarkable.
Now today, nothing less than 50 inches can really even be called a television.

So here I sit and ponder life in the month of February.
Maybe I'll shave my head?
Then get a tattoo?

I might even write a blog...