Creative Spanko Wench Blog

I’m just back from another rapid turn around overnight trip and have a heavy assignment more than 50 miles away tomorrow. Tonight I’ve decided to wind down by down loading comedy albums from iTunes … Billy Connolly, Bob Newhart, Bill Cosby, Ron White, Bill Engvall, Jeanne Robertson and Ron White. They should keep me laughing for a while. I’ve got America’s funniest videos and Americaa’s funniest animal videos set to TIVO along with Reba and Two and a Half Men. My crime shows (except for two on cable … The Closer & Criminal Intent are in reruns, so going with comedy only for a while seems like a great plan.

Frankly I’m disgusted with the news media. Where was the notice that Ed McMahon passed away last week, and Farrah Fawcett’s passing is now barely an after thought in the midst of this Michael Jackson frenzy? How many ordinary anonymous families experienced the loss of a family member last week? [I guess I have a special sensitivity to this since someone very close to me passed quietly on the same day as John Kennedy Jr. It was cruel really that there was no relief from our loss because at every turn a pseudo celebrity’s passing took over every venue of relief for weeks] Mr. Jackson was a ruined, very troubled human being, the current speculative frenzy around his death is just wrong. The blessing is that he’s not here to suffer the piranha like feeding frenzy around his last moments. Ass holes like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton (two men who offer nothing at all to society, who have leached the racism card for nothing but personal gain and wealth) once again crawl (creepily and exploitively) out of the woodwork. GAG! Just leave the family alone! Let them grieve. It’s Cory Feldman’s business that he cut his friend off in his own drug addled wallow right when his friend needed him most, and then never took the time or seized any chance to reconnect - exactly why is this newsworthy? Go away you slimy press hungry freak! Millions of us have been there. Human’s make choices everyday, even though tomorrow is fleeting. Regrets just are. Wish they weren’t, but that would be a pipe dream.

Frankly, nothing but the news that he died, and his family is grieving is all any of the rest of the world desrves to know right now.

We get dealt good cards and bad cards. You can win with a bad hand and you can loose with the best hand. It’s all in how we play them. Some of us play well, some of us don’t. You’d be surprised how many wonderful families nurtured/raised progeny who never manage to master fundamental/ordinary life’s skills in-spite of the fact that this progeny has been blessed with exceptional - sometime extraordinary talents.

Some of us are never going to learn not to smother every flame of hope out of fear, some of us will eventually learn to embrace the fire. Some of us will make choices that make it possible to find happiness and peace, and some of us will make choices that invite painful outcomes. Not one of us made a wrong choice either, we acted from need, and some of us pain. If any of us could see the future, all of us would question even our very best instincts.

It’s regret that I feel I personally feel the need to work out. I regret many things and I feel blessed having been given many things. My current biggest regret is hurting one of my best friends, even if it had to be done for both of our peace of mind.

Ed McMahon, by all reports was a good egg, a friend to many and a dedicated advocate for abandoned and homeless animals. Farrah Fawcett bravely disclosed her sexual history in the hopes that others could learn about anal cancer and the risk factors for it. Michael Jackson hid from the world, and owned no believable truths about himself - he sought to be Peter Pan and failed. He could sing and he could dance, but as a man he offered nothing else but unresolved questions…. But they (Ed & Farrah) genuinely gave what Mr. M. Jackson never did - he got famous doing self aggrandizing things.

I should be more empathetic I suppose considering that in my small world I’m just as guilty. I hid, I embellished, I found my reality unworthy and I re-wrote it to conform so I could belong ….

People subjected to the piranha feedings don’t often heal. Piranha devour and destroy. Perhaps they shit out molecules that might congeal and offer a some lucky soul a second chance. Mostly they ruin lives and obliterate history. Mr. Jackson’s family don’t deserve this. Please leave them alone.

Just my thoughts.

P

This entry was posted on Monday, June 29th, 2009 at 6:50 pm and is filed under Spanking, General musings, Rants, creative writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.