Comedy is Hard

“Everything is funny, if you can laugh at it.”
~ Lewis Carroll

Fake smile guy
Never trust people who smile constantly. They’re either selling something or not very bright.”
~Laurell K. Hamilton,

I never thought that I could be funny. Sure, on rare occasions I have elicited a chuckle or two from a group of people but never when I meant to be funny.  It was always at my expense because I did or said something that was well, odd. I could never tell jokes. My timing is about as off as one can get. Life’s little ironies that made me giggle quietly to myself never were very funny to others who couldn’t seem to get my strange humor. I excepted this. I mean how many people are really truly funny, even most comedians, who attempt to be humorous for a living aren’t very funny.

Jerry_Lewis_clown_
“I’ve had great success being a total idiot. ”~ Jerry Lewis

It is a rare thing when someone or something can be funny. Imagine my surprise when MM upon reading a bit of this or a bit of that started to laugh at something I wrote. Of course I thought he was laughing at my funny strangeness and not at my funny hahaness, but he was. I couldn’t believe my ears.

At first I thought it was some sort of cosmic joke on me or some mistake perhaps an odd fluke that I could never repeat, but then it happened again and again. Others would comment that a post here and there was funny.

Sometimes I can take myself way too seriously and at other times I think I don’t take myself seriously enough.

comedy is hard

And then that awful depression hit and I found I couldn’t be funny anymore. I tried and tried and all I could do is sound well, sad and pathetic. Sorry about that. I wasn’t as though I wanted to be that way.  I tried to snap out of it.  I watched funny movies, I scoured the internet for jokes. I tried to be funny and it would work.  It was like OK, now be funny..ok now…do it now!  UGH!  Is this mic on?

Dammit, Comedy is hard.

I started to think about what people, especially what we who are Americans think is comical. Making fun of others seems to be high on the list, most notably celebrities and politicians which seem to say the wackiest of things. I can think of several incidences. One recent one that came to mind is Pat Robertson, the TV Evangelist who recently admitted that he believes demons live in used sweaters which is kinda funny on the surface but also sort of sad.

The leader of North Korea is the butt of many recent jokes including the whole Unicorn thing. Personally, I wouldn’t want this guy angry with me, no matter how ridiculous he appears.

Kim Jong Un upon his steed.  What a man!
Kim Jong Un upon his steed. What a man!

I googled “funny images” and most of what I saw was disturbing to say the least and many images were of cats. I shudder to think how many doctored cat photos they are online. It just seems…well, wrong.

Would you like to come home from work and find this?!
Would you like to come home from work and find this?!

Really any animal doing anything vaguely human seems to tickle many funny bones, especially when they wear clothes and say smart things. Perhaps it is the element of surprise that comes into play here. For me it is the Homo sapiens saying smart things that surprise me.

I confess that I just don’t get many of the ‘comedians” that are out right now. Personally I like the old stuff like the Marx Brothers, especially the funny one, you know the one…

Karl Marx, communist and comedian.
Karl Marx, communist and comedian.

I am automatically suspect of anything that has a laugh track or of any movie that claims itself to be a comedy. Those usually hit a wall in what I call the dip and turn morose and sad.  In my opinion anyone who is trying to be funny isn’t.

What I find laughable is people who are trying too hard not to be, the one’s who take themselves and what they say, way too seriously. Now these people are hilarious!

Pat Robertson's brain
“Can demonic spirits attach themselves to inanimate objects? The answer is yes.”…..”It doesn’t hurt to rebuke any evil spirits that attach themselves to clothes.”
~Pat Robertson

I will try not to be so hard on myself;  when I am funny and I am and when I am not, I guess I won’t be….but I promise you one thing; no more depression, no more sadness no more of any of that crap.  The world is too full of THAT.

So…I choose to go to make you laugh in this decade and do the other things. Not because they are easy, but because they are hard.”

John F. Kennedy says that comedy is harder than going to the moon and Boy, this ice cream GOOD!
John F. Kennedy says that comedy is harder than going to the moon and Boy, this ice cream GOOD!

😀

Thanks for listening,

Strawberryindigo.

I believe that if life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade… And try to find somebody whose life has given them vodka, and have a party.”
~Ron White

smile

I Speak for the Cats

beautiful-cat
Credit: Public Domain

What I am about to say may come as a surprise because it is quite amazing and hard to believe but true, so without much fanfare, I will just come out with it. I have an intense almost supernatural power over cats.  Yes, you heard it correctly; cats.

I know you are thinking; “Why didn’t she tell us before?” I know this is something to brag about but I am not one for self promotion.  I am a shy and reserved person in real life. I prefer to blend into the background but I do have my moments when I become quite feisty, and this is one of those moments.

I was having a deep philosophical discussion with Mario, my famous cat, as is our habit on rare idle afternoons.  He mentioned the bad press that he and his fellow felines have been getting lately; apparently a report has surfaced calling our friends the cats massive serial killers hellbent on killing every bird and mouse in their perspective neighborhoods. Mario was, of course, upset and justifiably so.  He asked me to say a few words on the behalf of the feline-kind due to my amazing ability to understand and speak cat.

I too am outraged. I have a natural affinity for cats and being quite cat-like myself, this is not only an insult on him, my beloved friend and business associate, it is an insult on me and I have taken it upon myself to speak for the cats…

Call me the cat whisperer if you will and I have something to say and this I will not whisper…I will shout it from yards, fence posts and the tops of trees: Cats are not killers!

Credit: Public Domain
Credit: Public Domain

As sophisticated and intelligent as they are, cats are animals with all the instincts for survival. They are carnivores and being as such, they like to chew on a bit of meat once in a while. For the most part our domesticated homebound pet cats are content with the food we humans provide, as you fellow cat owners I’m sure can attest to. My cats are not killers. Mario and Sunny prefer napping to killing. They are really just big babies and I will vouch for them on that…I repeat: they are no killers. Most of the culprits in these awful incidents involving birds and mice are feral cats. The poor homeless variety of cat that live on the margins of our society.  They did not ask to be there and I’m sure they would love to be provided a nice home with food and love, but these poor unfortunates have been dealt a hard hand by fate and humankind.  They have no choice but to hunt for their subsistence.

I don’t know the stats on this and I want to remain blissfully ignorant on the subject but I have to bring up the question: how many innocent animals are killed to provide subsidence to humankind?  I am a meat eater myself and I am not trying to guilt anyone into vegetarianism although I do have a great respect for our noble vegetarian and vegan friends. I am just pointing out a bit of what I think is pertinent here.

I have an intense intolerance for hypocrites. I am a very forgiving and understanding person.  I love sinners and I love reformed sinners even more but judgemental righteousness gets my dander up.

angry cat bigger
Credit: Public Domain

Sorry you had to see this side of me but I need to express my feelings on this. We as the dominant species on this planet have a duty to protect and care for those which cannot care for themselves, our beloved pets among them. So if you are considering getting a pet please do so with all the seriousness it merits. Make sure you have the room, time and resources to devote to a tiny life that will grow to love and depend on you. If you have not already done so, spay or neuter your animal. This is a crucial step in preventing any more unwanted ones, there are already too many. Another way to help is to donate to some fine organizations out there such as The Feral Cat Coalition  that is helping to protect our furry friends. And one more thing; as a favor for me, Mario, and all the other cats out there. If you hear anyone bad mouthing our feline friends; put in a good word…cats are wonderful animals and do not deserve the reputation they have.  I know they’d stick up for you.

Thanks for listening and have a purrfectly wonderful day!

Strawberryindigo. 

cropped-cat-eyes.jpg

 

The Neon Cheesy Dust of Self Importance

ego photo credit carolina engman in public domain
Say “CHEESE”

It all started with an idea. A grandiose crazy idea, some of which I am about to tell you, most of it I must keep to myself for now but suffice to say it will be my first big move into the fast paced grown-up world of freelance writing.

So I got this idea; a flash of brilliance that almost blinded my cat Mario. I was so excited by this that I started to jump up and down and instantly without thinking, I plunged my dainty hand straight into a bag of Doritos and started to consume it’s overly cheesy contents. I am a mom and I preach ad nauseam against this sort of activity but there I was munching away; my eyes ablaze waiting for MM to come through the door and then suddenly: there he was, and there I was, and then I just blurted it out: “I want you to be my manager.” I managed to stammer, eyes wide, mouth full of chips. “You’d do what you’re doing now except that you could call yourself my manager…of course, I couldn’t pay you” I added sheepishly.

As you may have guessed; he jumped at the chance!  So there we were jumping up and down like lunatics in the kitchen. By then Mario, my famous cat, had darted out of the room, but we didn’t care. We were hugging and I was getting neon cheesy dust on his back and I didn’t care and he didn’t know, but that’s OK–I do all the laundry. It was an amazing moment for both of us…

… It is also amazing how a person can pump themselves up with a basically unearned  and certainly at this moment in time, worthless highfalutin title. Just like that.  It is at these moments that I am proud to be an American!

american cheese public-domain-american-way-

And that reminds me…did you know that Americans are the most narcissistic people in the world? Well…I bet you knew that but did you know that I am NOT one of these narcissistic Americans?  HA!  I bet you didn’t know THAT! Yes, it’s true. I was a bit curious about the subject so I started reading a book on narcissism; its fascinating stuff. The book contains a short test which I took, and to my surprise and embarrassment; I scored pretty low…so low that I think I may suffer from low self-esteem with a shot of delusional over-thinking and obvious long-windedness. Apparently just thinking I may be narcissistic may disqualify me.  Well I guess I still have some work to do….

…but now I have a manager and a goal…it’s nothing to choke on your Dorito over, but it’s a start.

Wishing you a fantastic day full of big dreams and junky neon cheese!

Strawberryindigo.

DORITOS_NACHO_CHEESE__Flavored_Tortilla_Chips in public domain

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Narcissism Personality Disorder Traits (mayoclinic.com)

Narcissism Test (personality-testing.info)

How Narcissism Can Be Good for You (psychologytoday.com)

What’s Really In Nacho Cheese Doritos (eatthis.menshealth.com)

A Love You Can Bank On

bank heart_filled_with_love

“It is well enough that people of the nation do not understand our banking and money system, for if they did, I believe there would be a revolution before tomorrow morning.” ~ Henry Ford~

.

It is late November, soon after Thanksgiving, a woman with a fake smile plastered to her face opens the door and welcomes me inside. The sweet inviting smell of gingerbread wafts out like a meandering tendril of affection pulling me in closer and closer. A giant stuffed pony sits at the ready, seemingly waiting for giant hugs…I must say that it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas; I can almost hear the carolers now but all I hear is “Welcome to Wells Fargo!”

I have been frequenting this bank for the last twenty years or so and I have never seen it quite like this: Ever since Occupy Portland staged a bank protest day the people at the bank have become seemingly friendlier and friendlier. To the banks this may seem like good public relations but it seems too artificial and it is unnerving to me.

I look for the cookies to no avail and I feel stupid for doing that…of course they must be practicing the popular trend of piping in the intoxicating aroma to lull us poor unsuspecting customers into a false sense of security… Trust perhaps?

bankster-trust-me-im-a-banker by teamster nation

Banks are big on trust. It seems those with the money and the power are desperate to get us little guys to trust them. I have a piece of advice on that: never trust anyone who keeps bringing up the issue of trust: who says “trust me” or really anyone at all for that matter (except for your family and me–you must trust me)

I see the poor nervous ones in the corner, waiting uncomfortably in comfy plush chairs arranged in a circle in a vague semblance of someone’s living room. They are waiting their turn to see a personal banker. (aka purse string holder)  These are the people who help you apply for a loan or help modify your mortgage.  Every one of these poor waiting people look sick.  One in particular, an elderly man in a frayed jacket with paint stains is visually shaken. I’ve been in that spot before; I feel sorry for them and relieved that I am not among their ranks–today.

banks make-money-public-domain

It is a strange event when banks won’t take cash from you…Yes cash, that funny green paper we mortals keep passing around, the dirty stuff you must wash your hands after using. We had an envelope of cash–around $300, not much to some but a lot to me.  MM hands them the wrong bankcard from another institution of banking and larceny. He receives a disappointed look, like he has been caught cheating. I add to the insult by writing the wrong number on the deposit slip. the teller who resembles Timothy Geithner asks for his ID. He hands it to Timmy but Timmy now squints and gazes at him sideways; MM looks different from the picture with his newish beard and that was that–Timmy refuses to accept the money, seriously. He tells us with utter contempt to return with the correct information. In the past no one has questioned us for such an offense, in my experience banks will always take cash but not today… we are perplexed.

Timmy Geithner

I say to MM:  ” I should write about this.” He gives me that “Oh no, not again” look but quickly tries to cover it with a placating smile.  I don’t know how he can put up with me sometimes and as the afternoon goes on I ask him and a few others if they have ever heard of any interesting stories about banks in the news lately…especially nice ones as I want to get all angles of this story–Happy bankers, heartwarming tidbits of gleeful giving, perfect for the upcoming Holiday season…I ask this with a straight face. I really want the banks to be able to redeem themselves in my eyes, really, I mean it! …I know what you’re thinking and everyone I talked to thought along similar lines and so all I get are the same placating smiles and polite “No’s”.

The internet knows all Kittycat

I then turn to all that’s fit to print: The internet. The Internet knows all, so when I ask it the very same question, it too gives me the same look and this time a very stern “NO!”

And this gets me thinking…

I felt like the long-suffering wife in a bad marriage; unloved and unappreciated.  I looked at myself hard in the mirror, I studied all the newly formed worry lines on my face. I took  way too long showers and cried myself to sleep. I binged on chocolate ice cream and listened to love songs and cried even more…well…no, not really but I did have some ice cream and I did do one other thing–for real:  I quit that bank. I realised that it really  “wasn’t that into me and I withdrew my little sum of money and marched straight to the arms of another love–The local credit union!

money on my purple lap

“Corporations have no souls but they can love one another.”

~Henry Demarest Lloyd~

money bags

 Related articles

Credit Unions VS Banks, the pros and cons (www.huffingtonpost.com)

Goldman Sachs’ Long History Of ‘Money And Power  (npr.org)

Occupy Portland: N17 Protestors move into downtown, go from bank to bank, police make some arrests    (oregonlive.com)

50 ways to leave your lover by Paul Simon (www.youtube.com)

How Traditional Banking Practices Can Make You Poor (wisebread.com)

Banks… 😐 (muddiedwater.wordpress.com)

GREAT


GREAT WALL of China
Credit: pingnews

“Because of a great love, one is courageous.”

Lao Tzu

Have you ever been stuck on a word? Have you ever used one particular word so frequently that it caused you any worry? Have strangers mocked you using that word in a public place?  If you have answered any of these questions with the word Yes, you must be like me and I am not so alone in my cheap and tawdry word addiction.

I’ll admit it right here and now. I will shout it to the rooftops…” I am Strawberryindigo and I am a wordaholic–my tonic of choice, my vice, the object of my obsession: the word “GREAT”

HAHA…  It is probably of no surprise to you; my overuse and abuse of the word.   It litters my posts and certainly my comments. You are so very nice not to mention this. You may have asked yourself at one time or another…How many times can one person say “Great Post”?

I’ll admit and everyone knows that Great is a great word. (That is why it is called that, duh) If there is any word to over depend on it is this word, this great word. It is positive and it is versatile. To me it sounds strong and certain of it’s place in the whole scheme of things.

I can’t help but think  too much of a good thing (or great word can be just that: too much.

GREAT WHITE SHARK
Image by © David Fleetham/Visuals Unlimited/Corbis

I know what you’re thinking right now… How can I be so impossibly brave? I ask myself that too. Perhaps it is the writer in me yearning to break free of the confines of convention? Maybe I grow bored with my limited palate of words? It could be that if I am to be any kind of writer at all I must extend my vocabulary.  Great just isn’t cutting it.

So I am asking you a favor…Please if you see me or hear me use that word–you know the word–THAT word, let me know in no uncertain terms that I am being a weak overdependent hack. Tell me this, I deserve it. We will all be better off this way.

Besides…

GREAT SMOKY MOUNTAINS

There are so many words I can use instead: Words such as…

abundant, ample, big, big league, bulky, bull, colossal, considerable, decided, enormous, excessive, extended, extensive, extravagant, extreme, fat, gigantic, grievous, high, huge, humongous, husky, immense, inordinate, jumbo, lengthy, long, major league, mammoth, mondo, numerous, oversize, prodigious, prolonged, pronounced, protracted, strong, stupendous, terrible, titanic, towering, tremendous, vast, voluminousable, absolute, aces, adept, admirable, adroit, awesome, bad*, best, brutal, cold*, complete, consummate, crack*, downright, dynamite, egregious, exceptional, expert, fab, fantastic, fine, first-class*, first-rate, good, heavy*, hellacious, marvelous, masterly, number one, out of sight, out of this world, out-and-out, perfect, positive, proficient, super-duper, surpassing, terrific, total, tough, transcendent, tremendous, unmitigated, unqualified, utter, wonderful

GREAT PYRAMID OF GIZA
WISHING YOU AN UTTERLY SUPER-DUPER DOWNRIGHT EXCEPTIONAL DAY!!!

The Writer’s Lament

Hey you writers out there, are you like me? Do you long for days of uninterrupted silence? Do you fantasize about having hours upon hours of free time devoted to your only real love: Writing?

I may be the only one who’s so obsessed…and I am obsessed. I can think of nothing better than to tap tap tap my life away if only I had the time and the silence.  Oh blessed silence…can I be the only one who craves this silence?

I don’t have to tell anyone how noisy our modern world is already and the distractions…there are so many distractions. I get started with my tapping and before you know it, life rears its inevitable head and drags me back to reality for in which there is limited room for anything remotely resembling tapping.

Here I am in a rare moment, I have all afternoon and I’m set to write about one of my favorite subjects; Being Different in -The Daily Post’s Weekly Writing Challenge and then a million things happen and there is no time.

I am a mom and I have all the responsibilities just like everyone else. I probably don’t have to tell you this; we are all busy with our lives.  Most of us don’t have much free time and there is always some minor crisis to keep me more than occupied.

I admit that at times I can be hard to live with.  I tend to be lost in thought about something or another and there tends to be a lot of something or another’s swimming around in my half-crazed brain.  l admit I get pent-up and rather testy when I can’t get the opportunity to write…and like a junkie who needs a fix, once I get what I crave, I’m happy again. I do admit it’s an affordable addiction and who knows, perhaps all this craziness will pay off in the end?

I’m sure most writers and artists in general are a little on the obsessive side.  I mean I could name names but why bother. We all know this is true…and really when I get to think about it….even you; if you are any kind of writer at all, I bet you are a bit crazy too just like the rest of us…and that you know that I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I guess I should be grateful. If I had it my way, I’d probably tap tap tap my way to oblivion…..I would be going a mile a minute..faster and faster and then suddenly I would just explode: KA-BOOM!

I could see the scene now…my spent carcass slumped over a burned-out laptop, dirty coffee cups and piles and piles of printed word surrounding me….What a mess…

Perhaps that will do…

MUCH HAPPINESS,

Strawberryindigo.

NOTE:

I have been off “adventuring”and have been limited on time, that is why I haven’t been posting much. I am not AWOL.  This is only temporary and I will be up and running at full speed in a couple of weeks.

I look forward to catching up with our visits after all this is over. I will be back full of wonderous tales about my “exotic” adventures.

Dress me up weird Portland

Here I am in the middle of downtown Portland.  I am wandering around looking for interesting goings on to write about. Portland is a city that prides itself on being weird. Bumper stickers with the motto ” Keep Portland Weird” is plastered all over cars. People take this to heart around here. That is one of the aspects of Portland I enjoy the most.

So it is of relatively no surprise when I spy Robin. Yes, THAT one, Batman’s Robin. Well, it kind of looks like Robin, he’s got the costume except this guy is unshaven and dirty and is carrying a backpack.  He’s appears to be flying a sign asking for spare change.

I hear” Hey Robin!” from a passerby. Robin deftly and quite expertly flips the offender his middle finger, I begin to laugh and I try to snap a pic of the scene but the boy wonder is too quick for me and hides behind his sign by the time the flash goes off.

This is the sort of thing I came down here to find. The raw, the unusual, the sometime crazy but wild creativeness that is urban living. I have been witness to many strange scenes on the streets of Portland but never before have I purposely set out camera in tow to look for them.

I told my family I was going downtown for the excellent hubs of blatant consumerism that I have been known to frequent in the past. Little did they know I was setting out into the wilds of the urban jungle in search of a story, or a little adventure perhaps. At least I’d be getting some exercise and getting out of the house.

Robin was the first but certainly not the last person I saw in costume that afternoon.

It didn’t take long before I saw two others dressed up. I tried discreetly taking their picture which resulted in some not so good photos. I vowed to get a better shot next time. There seemed to be a theme going. People dressing up in costumes and just walking around going about their business like it was nothing.

I have to admit that I am probably a bit out of it. I am a middle-aged mom with two teenagers. I’m sure people have been walking around in costumes for years…” Where have you been lately?  You may ask. I don’t know… but I do know that it is a little strange, definitely Portland weird for sure and I like it. I not only like it….

I LOVE IT!!!

I am jealous. I instantly wish I had worn some sort of really hip and happening kind of outfit, avant garde, edgy and creative….something with bright colors…wings too and boots!

I have always liked to dress up since I was a wee one. At five I would sneak into my Mother’s closet and try on her dresses and put on her makeup. As I grew older I would continue the tradition. I have always had a flair for the dramatic and when you are 10½ or even 20½ it’s considered cute and when you are 42, it’s odd to say the least. I realize this and have confined my dressing up to the only socially acceptable day for this sort of thing: My favorite holiday, Halloween.

I have accepted his little “fact” of life and I’ve gone along with it; waiting patiently for Halloween to arrive so I can let all my dramatic weirdness come out.  I’ve made it no secret that I am a big kid at heart. I think engaging in a little fantasy and play is good for one’s psyche.  Some of us take this adult thing way too seriously. We need fun and some of us won’t admit it.

I say embrace your inner child and if it doesn’t hurt anyone…Go for it!  No matter what it is…..as long as you have fun and who care what anyone thinks? Make a total fool of yourself (it’s not officially fun unless you do.)

So in the tradition of The Power Puff Girls and Robin, Larpers and Furries, Comic-cons and “crazies” let’s dress up!

Damn convention and all that….I DARE YOU!  

…I will if you do…

HAVE A FUN DAY!

Strawberryindigo.

Amuse me

I am big on childish fun. I live for it, so when I got the chance to visit the local amusement park recently, I jumped on it.  Who doesn’t need a little fun and amusement every once in a while?

My daughter still allows me to accompany her to places such as this and amazingly at 14, she doesn’t seem as embarrassed by my presence as she should be.  Maybe this is because I am a totally hip and happening middle-aged woman who is a laugh a minute and loads of fun to hang out with?  Could it be that she is a kind soul who takes pity on her poor fun-starved mother…maybe it’s because I’m springing for junky carnival food and deluxe ride braclets?

Oaks Amusement Park is a quaint old-fashioned little park nestled among the trees in Sellwood, minutes from downtown Portland Oregon.  Built in 1905 its sign proudly proclaims: “This is the place where the fun never ends…..”

This is the place for me!

Our fun started with greasy super bad for you corn dogs, loaded with fat and cholesterol and smothered with happy yellow mustard, accompanied by a nice tall cola, bubbling over with corn syrupy goodness.  We sat in the sun and slurped up our unhealthy booty in silence.   Aspie style, enjoying each others presence but not needing a lot of words.

After having our fill we did a short walkabout around the park. Mentally mapping out our itinerary.

THE SPIDER

We decided since we had just eaten all that junky food we should immediately go on The Spider; a ride that takes you way up in the air and spins you around.

This perhaps may not have been the smartest move…I realised this when we were dangling on top of the ride suspended in mid-air and all I could hear was blood curdling screaming:  My daughter kept repeating over and over “It’s okay Mother, (she calls me Mother to annoy me)  stop screaming. You are making my brain hurt.”  And her brain did hurt and so did mine for the entire ride…

And then we were off to something a bit more my speed so I could relax and get my bearings before the next round.

AHHHHH!!! Not this ride!!!
No Way!! I am a chicken, not THIS one either!
AHHHH…This one is better. 🙂
A very relaxing train ride.
miniature golf waterfall
Little kids roller coaster we were too tall to ride.
Americana at it’s best.
This happy girl makes it all worthwhile.

Occupy The Hilton

I must confess that I have a strong streak of justice running through me coupled with some liberal leanings and a twist of rebellion. I guess I’m just wired that way and at times I am strangely compelled to engage in highly compassionate acts. I am also compelled to “give it to the man” from time to time, so when these pastimes collide,  I reach a sort of nirvana that can stay with me for weeks.

Keeping this in mind, I know it will be of no surprise to you that I have recently joined the occupy movement. Well not actually the occupy movement per se… frankly all those occupyists scare me a bit but they do inspire me. I have taken it upon myself to engage in my own impromptu occupation.

Remember those 1% people, those horrible rich people; the ones who are responsible for all the evil in the world?  Those nameless, faceless masses of corporate conglomeration…

I think they need to be sent a lesson that we the 99% are not taking it anymore and that we are fighting back until the playing field is more level.  And we, well, I will be occupying a symbol of their opulence and greed… and what better place to occupy that than the penthouse suite of the Hilton?

I know you are thinking this plan may be a wee bit on the radical side. I agree but I cannot see any other way to bring attention to my, our cause.  I feel that I could become an inspiration to all the overworked and overlooked huddled masses yearning to breathe free. (Isn’t America great!)

I will have to make the sacrifice and live among those nasty one percenters and I will do so until all my comrades on the street, all the neglected, the poor, the tired and rejected and the rest of humanity (plus some select cats) get to live in the same luxury as we Hilton dwellers.

I will point out at this point that I am willing to make further sacrifices and I am an easy sell-out and not above blatant bribery. Any nicer hotel in the Portland area will do. (imagine the great publicity this hotel would get…hint, hint)

I’m planning on staging a sort of John Lennonish bed-in with signs and reporters minus the Ono (sorry Yoko)  and Amsterdam (sorry me) to protest all the unfairness in the world. I will sing songs of love and peace and do it all in my P.J’s and take naps on the side. (I hear the beds are super comfy)

Of course it won’t be easy. I will have to live off room service and will have to find somewhere to go each day while my suite is being cleaned.  I suppose I will have to use the spa and the pool and watch some pay per view movies…I am prepared for these eventual sacrifices..very prepared.

My list of demands are as follows:

  • 24 hour room service
  • Maid service with nightly tuck down and Andes mints on my pillow.
  • A nice white terry plush robe.
  • Ritzy rich people stuff from the gift shop
  • Giant fruit baskets and exotic root beers from all over he world
  • A wireless connection
  • A superb view of the city
  • Jacuzzi
  • Free coffee and baby soaps
  • Decedent chocolate desserts
  • Complementary newspapers
  • Free domestic calls
  • Laundry service
  • And most importantly; a breakfast buffet with a yummy omelet station……No I mean equality for all and omelets too!

Unlike other protests and protestors, there will be no drum circle, or mobs of angry people blocking the street. There will be a minimum of noise, perhaps some light jazz or classical music playing in the background. There will be no damage inflicted anywhere or mess to clean up; just a few damp towels, empty bottles of bubble bath and the traces of many chocloate desserts left behind.

I do not think I am being unreasonable here. It will be a win-win situation for us all.

Frankly and honestly…At this point I don’t care if it’s a Motel 6 with a private bath and a vending machine outside the door.  What really matters is the principle of the thing.

I need a vacation..I mean, we the people need a vaction and equality too and all that good stuff.

And so this very weekend I will showing up at the Hilton, bags in hand, ready for my protest.  You may join my protest..just show up at the nicest hotel in town with your demands..tell them Strawberryindigo sent you and have your visa card ready…

HAPPY PROTESTING!!!

Strawberryindigo.

The New Face of Friskies

MARIO

I don’t have a lot going on right now so I have become my cat’s agent.  It’s not what you think, I am not crazy or anything…it was his idea.  He’s a very ambitious cat, a real go getter. It’s no wonder he’s famous here locally.    And I guess it’s no wonder that his ambitions are leading him to bigger and better things.

He has spoken to me of his plans, well meowed them to me on many occasions, usually late at night after too much cat nip. He has dreams, that’s for sure but who doesn’t?  I want to be a writer someday.  My cat wants to be a star of stage and screen.   I’m sure you have hopes and dreams too, so I know you understand that we sensitive artist types need to follow our dreams and thus I have not only encouraged him, I have become his agent.

A big part of this important and highly coveted job is the ability to think outside of the box, come up with excellent ideas and have the where-with-all to follow through. I pride myself on my common sense and intellect which I think makes me the perfect sort to promote an animal act.

9 Lives has Morris the cat who the company touts as the most famous cat in the world, that may be true for now but I think that Morris is all washed up, he’s out of date, I mean how old can a cat get?  And those meow mix cats, all that constant mewing….cat’s don’t really do that.

What we need is a more realistic, more with-it , a now kind of cat. A cat for today. A spokescat that truly speaks to today’s generation.

That’s where Mario comes in. He and I both agree that he would be the purrfect choice to be the “The New Face of Friskies”

Is this the New Face of Friskies?

I know many of you have already been introduced to Mario, I also know a great many of you have joined his fan club and some of you have even attended a few of his lectures. So I don’t need to remind you of his magnetic presence, engaging personality, sharp wit and striking good looks.  I mean who would be better for this?

 “He certainly LOVES his Friskies and he eats quite a lot of it. That is why is he has a shiny and luxurious coat and such beautiful bright eyes.”

Now it’s up to me to convince The Friskies Corporation.

Realistically, I don’t see much of a problem there. That is more than apparent.  Once the executives at Friskies meet with Mario they will be putty in his paws.  He will be writing his own check and you can take that to the bank.  He is bound for greatness and really there’s nothing stopping him….

I Love Friskies!

…and this is only the beginning. First it will be commercials, then guest spots on popular TV shows, then maybe a little off Broadway and a few feature films and before you know it, he’ll be winning Oscars and I’ll be sitting at home like a bump on a log watching it all on the small screen and eating a frozen dinner all by myself while he lives the good life in Hollywood.

We’ve had long talks about this very thing. I am afraid the bright lights of “The Big City” will lure him away and change him forever. Maybe he’ll lose himself in a dark downward spiral of drugs and corruption.  Maybe he’ll run with a fast crowd who’ll only want him for his fame and lifetime supply of Friskies (Seafood Sensations flavor, please)

He assures me this won’t happen and he does seem to have a good head on his shoulders, he is the smartest one in the house.  I guess I can’t hold him back. I will miss the little guy but I know that someone who is that special cannot be kept back home on the farm….

…and so when I’m at home in a tattered old bathrobe watching The Oscars I’ll be cheering him on and I know you will too…he’s that kind of cat.

Strawberryindigo.

Suggested Links and Related Articles:

Mario

•  Mario The Magnificent

•  Morris website

•  Creepy meow mix cats

Friskies Launches iPad Game That Lets Humans Play Against Cats (shoppingblog.com)

You

HEY YOU!

Yes, you.

You know who you are.  You are the type to put yourself last in an endless array of somebody else’s.  Maybe it’s your family or a group of friends or co-workers, maybe its all of the above and then some.

I know you. You’ll say that you are needed and that you really enjoy what you are doing. This is true and it’s just like you to say that.  You might say that doing good has its own reward and to that I must wholeheartedly agree.  You make a lot of sense and definitely you are earning some major good karma points.  You certainly have earned my respect and the respect from many others.

You could even say that I am inspired by you……In all this there is no problem…

You deserve much praise for what you do. In that, again, there is no problem, everyone you know can see this, even if you yourself cannot.

In all that you see as important, in all that you do, how much of that importance is invested in yourself?

Because YOU ARE IMPORTANT!  You are unique. There is only one you……and you can’t be there for them unless you are there for you too.

Take the time for yourself once in a while. Do something you like to do.  Do nothing if that’s what you need. The important thing is that you do it, for you.

This is so important that they created a day especially for YOU.

 HAPPY   MOTHER’S   DAY!

Strawberryindigo.

Diary of a Mad Blogger: The Second Attempt

It has been nine months since I published my first post and joined this wonderful world of the real and the surreal: The Blogosphere. The experience has changed me quite profoundly.  My family has commented on this and with a little trepidation. I suppose it is because they are somewhat concerned with my mental health.

In fact they think me quite mad. They say I’m obsessed with blogging. They say I’ve lost my mind. 

Is this the eye of madness?

Am I mad?  You decide…..

  • I carry my camera wherever I go.  I will whip it out abruptly and snap pictures often of mundane things at strange angles. I will do what it takes to the right shot even crawling around on all fours, getting in someone’s bushes or just lying flat on my back on a neighbor’s lawn to get some sky shots.  I have developed no shame in these circumstances and luckily no one has yelled at me for sprawling out in their yard.
  • I look at the sky and wonder if it would make a good background.
  • “I can write about that” is sometimes the only thing that gets me out of the house.
  • I have 18 spiral notebooks each mostly filled with outlines, notes, quotes and half-baked ideas.

  • I feel strange if I don’t “check in” to my site for over 24 hours.
  • I have been wearing the same yellow shirt that makes me resemble the female Jack Hanna for the last 9 months.
  • I fantasize of being “liked”  by Matt Mullenweg.
  • I chat online with a fantastic assortment of highly artistic animals, people and objects with odd pseudonyms. I myself am called strawberryindigo.  I do get a bit of eye rolling around the house for that one.
  • I strut around like a newspaper tycoon; shouting out orders to the cat, keeping the print department up all night with last-minute changes and totally harassing my editor to the point where he won’t speak to me anymore.
  • I am considering having “Strawberryindigo.” cards made.
  • I am frequently found typing and laughing and swearing under my breath while consuming endless cups of hot caffeine.
  • I sometimes dream in WordPress and that my life is an endless post written in bold italics with accompanying pictures.
  • I will at times during the night wake up and start spontaneously giggling at an especially funny blog post I read earlier in the day.
  •  Two words: “The Forums”
  •  Fretting over the “Publishing Accident” earlier and looking like a complete idiot to 125 subscribers.
  • Doing all of the above and having a blast!

“There is a pleasure sure in being mad, which none but madmen know!”

**John Dryden**

Have a fun day!  🙂

Strawberryindigo.

Confessions of a Liberal Activist

Part One: The Confession

I must confess that at times I can have quite the idealised version of life, events and people. I freely admit this. It can be embarrassing, mostly it goes unnoticed but this last week it took me to places I have never been to before.

I noticed an ad in the newspaper. The back cover of a questionable kind of weekly that one can pick up for free around town. It was in bold print and in large letters:

Liberal activists needed”  I could not believe my eyes. This was one of those moments where you just know the hand of destiny is involved reaching out to guide you. I knew it instantly that this was for me.

I must confess again I am a political junkie nut, at least I was in my idealistic youth. I have since gone to pasture and seed in my garden, I have grown slow and complacent, this I admit. My flowers and flowery words have softened me.

I have longed to get back into the mix of things and shake off some of these middle-aged mom doldrums.

Women Voters Frisco - Registering shop girls &...
Women voters Registering shop girls & clerks (Photo credit: The Library of Congress)

I am a sucker for that democracy thing. I admit that too. I am a rebel at heart and I believe in the power of the people. I imagined my life as a future liberal activist.

Working for a good cause with a good bunch of people, activists like me.  Maybe I’d be advocating for the environment or children or the elderly. Maybe I could make a small difference and earn a little extra money while I’m at it.  How perfect is that?!    I was so excited. It seemed so right. So damn democratic.  My red, white and blueness was swelling with a new-found pride.  Sure, the system isn’t perfect, but we need to change from within and all this noble gobbledygook ran through my Pollyanna-ish and earnest imagination.

Part Two:  The Dream Sequence

President Barack Obama discusses the situation...
President Barack Obama discusses strawberryindigo with actor George Clooney during a meeting outside the Oval Office. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I imagined hobnobbing with local politicians, meeting and conferring with political pundits and strategists, heads of state, dignitaries and great minds from around the world. Gaining valuable insight.  Impressing my new-found important friends with my brilliant political mind. Soon I’d attract the attention of higher-ups, who knows, maybe someday….

I showed up for my interview two days later, bright-eyed and ready for action. My pockets were full of black bic pens and a cool new pink phone and breath mints.  My hopes were high.

I do have to say I was surprised. I imagined something quite different when I saw the office. I thought the democrats were loaded. This place was humble for sure and disorganized. I smiled and thought maybe I could help here too.
Everyone was stressed and a bit off.

Of course this was the hand of destiny again. They needed my help. I knew it. It was the easiest job interview I have ever been to. I was made for this and I couldn’t wait to show my new employer just what an active activist I would be. My head was swimming with ambition.

Part Three: Cold Reality

I'm not angry, just me messin' around on a col...
I'm an angry man (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

And now for something completely different as I find myself  on a soggy street corner in the pouring rain in an overpriced ritzy part of town with a clipboard wearing an old tie-dye, a smile and loads of enthusiasm.

I look for my people, my fellow concerned citizens, fellow taxpayers and democratic cohorts, where are they?  I scan the silent streets, all I hear is rain. Drip, drip, drip all over my glossy photos and donkey propaganda.

Was this the hand of fate again? perhaps. Stupidity on my part? Yes. Stupidity on the Democrats part? For sure.  But the truth of the matter it seemed was that despite all my idealism and earnestness, I couldn’t make someone care who doesn’t and that some people can be downright mean and nobody likes anyone with a clipboard and a cause in the rain no matter how enthusiastic that person pretends to be.

So I am swimming again this time in reality, finally understanding why this job was so easy to get…..I yearn for warmth and caffeine with whipped milk…. for a smiling face, for easy listening music and overpriced coffee cake…yes, that’s it!  Starbucks!

I look around..and believe it or not, and this fact is difficult to believe but there is not a Starbucks on every street like it seems.  To get to the promised land I would have to leave my assigned area and forge out to the great unknown to find what I needed so badly: A Chai Latte and some sanity…

Walnut cinnamon coffee cake with chai latte
Walnut cinnamon coffee cake with chai latte (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Dare to Dream

So I embark, clipboard in tow and with my mood improving. I scan the streets for my heart’s desire……and there…. he is!   No, not my heart’s desire, but the man who saved me that day. There he was pouring his heart out on the street corner, his cute little pointed hat stood proudly on his tiny head. His face clenched with concentration and fear mixed with pure ecstasy. His violin sputtered and creaked a painful sounding “Somewhere over the rainbow.” I stopped and listened, I almost started to cry.

There he was putting himself out there, following a dream perhaps or maybe just trying to make a fast buck on the side. Whatever it was his obvious lack of any musical talent or ability whatsoever didn’t get in the way of his soul. I could hear it. It was beautiful and it buoyed my spirits.

Judy Garland Over the Rainbow 2.jpg

I saw it as a sign. I gave the little man a dollar and with that act, my luck seemed to change and rather abruptly. The sun broke through the clouds.

I could hear Judy Garland, urging me on….telling me….”Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue And the dreams that you dare to dream, Really do come true.” 

After that there was no stopping me…. Enhanced Rainbow

 Stay tuned as my adventure continues…..

Strawberryindigo.