Moved On

In the event there are any of Blabbity's readers who still drop by to check the status, I should let you know I won't be making any more posts to this blog.

Instead, I've moved on to another blog, "Occasional Musings", which will serve as the repository for those posts that entail more consideration than the random thoughts posted to my "Disparate Undulations" blog.

Although similar in format, this new blog has no regularity of posting as with the Weekly Blabbity, and although comments will be accepted, I won't be entertaining a dialog.

No, I don't intend to remove Blabbity. Undoubtedly, my current postings will (on occasion) refer back to some of these articles, which were pretty good ...if I do say so myself ...and I am saying so.

So there, you have it.

Hiatus

No, I haven't disappeared completely. I'm taking a hiatus (of sorts) until ...whenever.

When I started this blog, it was a novelty and a fun challenge to come up with my weekly "article". Now it's become obligatory and somewhat tiresome.

Some time ago, I set 1 year as the point at which I would decide to continue or move on to something else. Well, that year's end is here, and I find I've been impatiently looking forward to this date, as you would the last day of school, or an upcoming vacation ...which gave me my answer.

Since this decision was all about "what path to choose", I thought of using an image of a giant fork in the road, but that's been done to death. I did experience a "chortle" when, in my search, I ran across this gif of the chesire cat, so I used it instead. However, I did retain the Yogi Berra "fork" quote (below); It's one of my faves.

After the batteries are recharged, I may return, especially if I feel I have more to contribute. In any event, I'll be visiting the various blogs, albeit sporatically, to catch up on what's being discussed. I may even post the occasional comment.

All that having been said, "It's been fun".

Quote of the Week: "When you come to a fork in the road, take it."

The Midweek Jibe - Wk: 29 '06

I'm not at all fan of Martha, but I happened to catch one of her programs where she was preparing an olive/anchovy tapenade, or what she referred to as a "poor man's caviar".

First, I've never tasted caviar, so there was the aspect of curiosity. Secondly, I love anchovies. So I watched, listened, and made note of the recipe, which simply consisted of [finely] chopping and combining olives, anchovies, capers, parsley, and garlic; blending this with olive oil, lemon juice, lemon zest, and dijon mustard; seasoning it with white pepper; and serving it on toasted french bread.

I happened to have all of the ingredients in the pantry, so I decided to give it a try. The resulting concoction was to be served as an hors d'oeuvre, but I kept sampling and sampling until it was all gone. Joseph, you weren't supposed to make a meal out of it. But, it was good.

Have a question or comment about the recipe? Take it up with Ms. Stewart.

This Is Not About You

recently read a post to which I started to make a comment. The more I thought about what I wanted to say, the more I had to say. I realized that the comment would've been lengthier than the post itself ...and somewhat off the point. I was making it about me. The post had nothing to do with me, but I was filtering what I read through my own scenario(s).

didn't make the comment. I simply backed off, telling myself, "This is not about you." Instead, I wrote this post which is about me.

From as far back as my early twenties, I came to the realization that I was an egotist. Ooooh, bad thing. Well, not really. It is what it is, and I who I am. I'd made the decision to live my life on my own term and the rest be damned. Well, over the years, and after being around the block several times, I've mellowed considerably. I'm still an egotist, but I know myself much better, and, although it's an ongoing process, I have managed to be true to myself while keeping my ego in check.

When you're called upon for your personal opinion, then, it has to be "about you" ...what you think, how you would react under those circumstances, what, in your opinion, is the best course of action. But sometimes you're required only to perceive, listen, see, hear.

My continuing exercise is to take myself out of the equation when it's [really] not about me. Sure, I'll later apply my own thoughts. feelings, and emotions to the circumstances, but to understand those circumstances more clearly, I try to perceived them without bias. Or if the bias can't be overcome, acknowledge it and compensate for it.

It is said that when you view a painting, your appreciation is based on "what you bring to the experience". This may be true, but if you get mired in "your own myopic perception", you fail to see what the artist was trying to say. Maybe this is not the perfect analogy, but it represents the discipline I exercise when approaching many things involving other people, (the things they say, do, write, paint, sing, photograph, etc.), other situations and circumstances.

've been so successful in applying this principle that in one situation I can recall, it "was" about me, and it wasn't until I'd reflected after-the-fact that I realized I'd just been insulted, albeit ever so subtly. Of course, a part of me fumed over what I should've said, but then I realized that my lack of reaction was, in fact, the best response ...something I couldn't have done had I not been listening objectively at the time.

Don't get me wrong. I live in my head, most of the time. But I do make the conscious effort to get outside of it when appropriate to the situation. I get to see so many things with new eyes. There's still plenty of time [later] to make it "about me".

Quote of the Week: "I know you believe you understand what you think I said. What you don't realize is that what you heard is not what I meant."

The Midweek Jibe - Wk: 28 '06

I recently viewed a delightful movie, "Ladies in Lavender", where two older sisters, Janet (Maggie Smith) and Ursula (Judi Dench), live together by the seaside in Cornwall (England). The movie isn't plot driven, so this isn't a spoiler. One day, a young (early 20s) man is washed up on shore. They rescue [Andrea] and nurse him back to health. Janet is a widow, her husband was killed in the war. Ursula has never been married, and has never even been in love. They both take a shine to this beautiful young man, but Ursula falls in love with him. Having never experienced being in love, this is all uncharted territory for her. Janet reminds her that "he's just a boy", and tells her that she's being ridiculous and naive. To which Ursula replies, "Of course I'm being naive, how could I be otherwise." When Andrea, who happens to be a violin virtuoso, leaves suddenly to pursue a career as a musician, Ursula is heartbroken ...a definite kleenex moment.

The movie is punctuated with points of subtle humor in the form of witty dialogue. The musical score, (written by Nigel Hess), is outstanding. Hess conducts the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, with Joshua Bell playing the violin.

This movie has no car chases, no violence of any sort, no drugs, no profanity -- or even any harsh language, no nudity, no sex -- not even a kiss (other than the greeting type). It's all about emotion.

It's definitely a "chick flick", if that type of classification is relevant to you. It's in the same vein as "Enchanted April", and "87 Charing Cross Road". I can't recommend it, since it would probably be terribly boring to someone who doesn't like this type of film, but for those of you who do, it's a treasure. But then, I love the performances of Dames Maggie and Judi.

A Case of Fratricide

I had this friend named Gary. We met when I first came to San Francisco and became fast friends. Gary was so very different from me. He came from an extremely affluent family so his manner and lifestyle bore all the trappings associated with that type of upbringing. He had a "proper and civilized" relationship with his parents, who were not given to emotional expression of any sort. Gary was very unhappy and for most of the time I knew him, he was in constant search of that which would bring him happiness. In his journey of self-discovery, he even did a stint as a Jesuit Priest, but that failed to bring him the internal comfort he sought.

Gary was an intense and intense-looking man, exacerbated by his bald head, deep-set sorrowful eyes, and a very large frame, enhanced by a pre-occupation with weight-training and physical development. Despite this appearance, he was very demure, if that's a proper word to apply to a man. Mind you, he was not effeminate, just sensitive, cultured, and refined in his demeanor. It was Gary who introduced me to opera and ballet ...although with my love of both dance and classical music, it was inevitable that I'd gravitate to these venues.

Gary considered himself a gay man, but he was very dissatisfied with the label, the lifestyle, and the social interactions he had with other gay men. As shallow as it sounds -- and is -- many gay man, as do most men and women, have types of people to which they're attracted. The problem that Gary faced stemmed from the dichotomy of who he was and what he looked like. He was a big "butch" looking guy with a very delicate soul. The two just didn't work together, and this incompatibility cause him much anguish. This presented no problem for me since ours was a platonic relationship.

I say all this to paint of picture both physical and emotional of the person Gary was, the person who was my very dear friend.

Now here's were it goes weird.

All of a sudden ...to me, not to Gary, since he'd been thinking about this for some time... Gary tells me that he's considering gender reassignment. There are some males who, despite their external shell, are obviously female. Gary was not one, at least not in my perception. So you can see that this came out of the blue and knocked me for a loop. We discussed it at length, and I came to know how he really felt inside, how he'd only just manage the courage to admit and discuss it. My fear was that this was just another attempt, a desperate attempt, in pursuit of the happiness which had eluded him. My fear was that if this too failed, he'd be left in a most unfortunate state. After much consideration and discussion, he convinced me that this was what he really wanted ...not that he needed my approval, but convincing me was a way of re-assuring himself.

And so he began with the process.

Over several years, he gradually transformed his body into one with a more feminine appearance ...which was no easy task, considering the massive, muscular frame he'd had. The final step was the gender reassignment surgery. After that was done, Andrea closed the door on [her] existence as Gary, and would only refer to this previous incarnation as her dead brother.

Now here's were the problem comes in.

Supposedly, only the physical was changed, and the inner person was still the same. This may have been true, but my friend was a male (with a masculine energy). This new person was not. Oddly enough, this seemed to matter a great deal. My inability to relate to this new person resulted in the dissolution of our friendship as I pulled further and further away. Was I that shallow? I surely wasn't homophobic ...or whatever is the equivalent transgender term. But try as I did, I just couldn't accept [Andrea] as someone I knew and cared about. In fact, I actually grew to resent her for killing off my friend Gary who I miss to this day.

Quote of the Week: "A lost friendship provokes a feeling of absence, a feeling of a life now changed."