Suspension of Disbelief

A lot can be said about the so-called American "melting pot," the general theory being that people of different cultures come to America and melt into the American 1950's "ideal" family with 2.5 children, a white picket fence around a brand new cookie cutter house, and a dog named Max or Rover or some other American name for a mutt or perhaps a German Shepard or dalmatian. Of course, the 1950's American Dream comes from an atypical mold. It is impossible for everyone to attain the American Dream because the American Dream as the picture perfect 1950's lifestyle -- with a shiny new family car, ever wise and never rash father figure, docile and obedient wife and children, and a single-income paycheck that will always cover your every need and sometimes a little extra for a gift for the wife and children because they're just so super -- it is ideal for only one member of the family:  the father, traditional and ideal with a sports jacket, loafers, a...

There are 101 days left to this vacation and already I'm bored silly. Go figure, I know. They, who ever they are, say that vacation is a time for rest and relaxation, but I'm more relaxed when I have something to keep me entertained. Work doesn't really bother me that much, not compared to having nothing to do whatsoever. It gets you moving, keeps you on the ball if you will. Nothing, it keeps you tired and bored and stupid. So tomorrow I'll go find something to do to keep me occupied at least for a little while. Only when there is motivation is there progress, and only with progress do we find greater motivation. Vacation is nice when it's about a week or so. It's just enough time to lie around and do nothing, thinking about the stuff you've finished since the last time you've sat around thinking about the stuff you've finished since the time before. There's no time for other activities, if there was I'd bet that vacation wouldn...

If for any length of time you get to know me -- the real me that is -- then you'll surely realize that I am more than slightly mad. Oh, don't get me wrong, it's the good kind of mad, the fun kind. But mad nonetheless. There are few things I enjoy more than expression. I enjoy expressing myself, in anger, in rage, in laughter, in a great deal of things. The key is to realize that I am in fact genuinely that expression. I am angry. Or rageful . Or humored. Or whatever else pops up that day. But it doesn't mean that I take it too seriously. I'm not going to dwell on bad things any more than the good. And, I'm not going follow through with many of my well-timed, and sometimes not well-timed, remarks. Well, at least for the most part. Sometimes I can't help myself. And so long as you know that I am not kidding you should probably know why. Why do I take certain things very seriously and others humorously and still others rather lazily. It's because everything...