COFFEE TOAST AND COMPANY
Wrote a blog yesterday, titled: Melbourne Toast Company, and it was a classic bait and switch event. Didn’t expect for it to be like this, and once I started writing I just kept going. Turns out it was me being preoccupied with something I read in a online news presentation. Mostly it was just a bogus headline that got me reading, and then I was totally disillusioned and disappointed. It wasn’t news. And I wasn’t sure why these people were involving me with their version of reality media. In the end, I was displeased and so found myself thinking about it. The end results is what you will find if you read yesterday’s blog. But now that is done, and is early evening where I am. Have Little League Baseball, not sure their age, but are both boys and girls on the same team. And this interests me. Its baseball. Not some gender based contest. Its baseball. ESPN. Eventually the winners of the American Circuit games will play the best International Little League winner bracket team or teams.
So my task is to not lose my focus by doing too many things at one time. But then I think: This is what Mother’s do. Multi-task. More than one thing at a time. Raise a family. Go to work. Have an individual life, well maybe. Not sure if that part is emphasized. The Individual. So is my task for now: Finish up the blog that was not about The Melbourne Toast Company. Only this time I have changed the title, slightly. Want to reflect the true nature of the things I will write about. But even so, am not sure that I can do what I set out to do.
Should ask myself before I go too far, what exactly will this blog be about? Then make an outline of how I will cover today’s topic, which is a follow-up on a blog I wrote yesterday, that if I were grading this effort in a educational or school assignment, would have received a C-minus. Was not happy how the Melbourne Toast Company blog turned out. On reflection I am now aware why it was a disappointment for me. Seems I have made some rules about how I will write blogs. No religion. No politics. No this and that, and must be family-friendly. But even as I have some rules, I find that I am not as disciplined and focused and when I write, it might not be for a global-based audience. At times like this, I dedicate it all to me. Mee. Mee. Fits in good, with what I see others doing. Blogs are individual expressions of everyday feelings and life. Personal expression. So I know that I do that. Write. Post. Read Comments. And hope I don’t get run out of Blog Town, based on what I write. Sound familiar.
So I never know what might appeal to you. So I just write and see what happens. You have heard this before from me. So let me mention again, what happened yesterday. I am not sure I am pleased with the way things are going, when I come to the world wide web. Don’t trust the online news banners that seem to be propaganda of a sort and not really daily news. But don’t want to write a Rant about my disappointment with things. But sometimes that is exactly what happens. Best said by a blogger I read, and this is paraphrased: Am trying to make a point, so I hope I do not offend, by using another person's material.
It was said: (paraphrased as I can remember it ) "…….easy to give in, give up and be consumed by…….. Friends couldn't see it, because I wore that old familiar mask."
And that is what I wanted the Melbourne Toast Company blog to be about. And it was a failed experiment. Didn’t turn out the way I wanted. All because…. I gave in to the pressure of the moment that was yesterday. Because for my own protection…. I wore the old familiar mask, that you relate to, when engaging Stoney Blogger. Was caught between the individaul and the collective enterprise. Inspired by the very fact, my friend did point out to me. " This doesn’t exist." There is no Melbourne Toast Company in the greater Melbourne area.
And this is true. Was hoping to make that the central point of yesterday’s blog. The Melbourne Toast Company does not exist, but when I present the name to Google Search the entire process becomes so distorted that it is difficult to determine what exists and what does not. Online, what is the true identity of individuals and commercial concerns. Does it matter? And so that is what it turned out to be all about. What is real and what is not, and how does that effect me? What happens when things like this make me unhappy, but I am the single parent living with my children, with the major role of setting a good example and teaching by doing, all things that make up the dynamics and structure of productive life. Certainly something I want for myself and for my children. But then there are times when I am present and I need to mask my true feelings about what is going on around us. Role Play. Seem to be happy, when indeed at some level, I am not.
And so I have to seek the benefits of compartmentalization. Keep it all to myself, my true thoughts and feelings, that are central to an individual. And I do this for the benefit of others, mostly my children. And so I am focusing on this, but trying to frame it properly so I can talk about it, without offending or causing other’s difficulty. So I am focused now. My title: Coffee Toast And Company. Is all those things that the Melbourne Toast Company was not. And so I am here. Looking for a place where we can go to have a cup of coffee, a plate of toast and a few moments alone with you, company I seek and relate with as a good friend, or at least somebody that doesn’t mind sitting down and talking about their real life and the things that happen to people like us.
Okay and now I am clear about all this. Why the Melbourne Toast Company does not really exist. There is no room for private conversations about life and love and the disappointments that come from day to day in the life of the single parent. A toast company is no place to have personal episodes. Company means a place where we do work. Not a place where we have coffee and toast and company. Now I am clear about all that. Apologize for yesterday’s confusion. Was mostly my fault. Stayed up the night before watching a disturbing movie. Was the 10th time I have seen this movie.
Netflix and was at home. Children were asleep. I was alone and wished I had company. But that wasn’t how it was. So for the 10th time I watched: Rabbit Proof Fence. Accordingly, it was my subconscious personality that showed up, and wrote a blog: The Melbourne Toast Company. And doing so forced me to put on my mask, pretend that what I was doing had a basis in everyday reality. It did not. Much like the movie I watched. Rabbit Proof Fence. Based on something that happened in 1931. And it was disturbing. But that was yesterday. Why talk about it. And that is my current dilemma. Need to sit down with coffee and toast and company, and just talk about these things. Even if its difficult and disturbing. We should talk. But do not. Not even in blogs. And when we do, its not popular and not for everybody.
And now I know this is what today’s blog: coffee toast and company is all about. Not misleading. Just not popular. The residue of single parents when they let their hair down, gather around and talk about their day. And because it is a blog, it is difficult to discern, if we are all wearing masks, or just here without the benefit of make-up that hides our human flaws. And so I think I am done now. Will find some pictures that support my main theme and message. Wearing a Mask. Good to see you all. Enjoyed the moment. Complete with coffee, toast and company.
Melbourne Toast Company
The best way to prepare for writing a blog, when that was never my intention on Wednesday and midweek, is to organize one’s thoughts into something manageable.. Is my rest day, where going swimming is an option, but then again, so is everything else. Options spring from the most unexpected places when you don’t work, don’t pay alimony, and when you are in your bonus years. Was hoping to make sense of yesterday’s notes and thoughts, process them as if they were reaching out to me and saying, "I am important. Please do not abandon me." Looking at one page of notes, and have decided to finish that piece of unfinished business before I move forward with my theme and title for a blog on this day: The Melbourne Toast Company.
Looking at my notes, I see the phrase: voyeuristic prosecutorial overkill. Placing this phrase in yesterday’s notes was meant as a reminder to myself to unlock the word vault, breakdown the language barrier that takes on a life of its own, between the spaces of my world and the Google News Headlines, that come to me as I try to scan in brief form, first thing each morning, the happenings as presented to me as current news. Saw this phrase: voyeuristic prosecurtorial overkill, and had no idea what was being said or presented. Ran out of time and never did follow up. Now its old news. But is at the top of yesterday’s notes and so will make comment, and then move on to my latest wave form creation which I title: Melbourne Toast Company.
Left alone, I begin to create. Use the first 7 days of Genesis as my model. Break it down in tablet form. Moses and Stone and Word. "Word." And on the screen it pops up to remind me, there is dynamic tension between us. "Word, my man. What’s up?" And this is my cue to get the ball rolling, present and represent. Am centered and have a place to start. Word phrase and will break it down, using the three words in front of me. Starting with Voyeuristic, which in the old days suggested something we didn’t talk about in the Victorian Era. Voyeuristic, with lots of porn on the Internet, so it kind of confused me when I saw the phrase: voyeuristic prosecutorial overkill. Had no clue what this news banner was telling me. So I did as I often do.
Typed voyeuristic into the google search place and was able to orient myself and relax a little, when my screen prompt returned this: voyeurism: observing unsuspecting individuals. Was able to shrug and move ahead. Next word. But wait, want to mention that I was okay with the message or idea that in the new world there was this on-going process and probability that people watching was the current rage. Snowden and Wikileaks and events of disclosure about how we have become a surveillance society world-wide, and its okay to just know, without you knowing it, somebody might be watching you. Tis okay, but I object to using the word, voyeuristic. Must be another word they could have used. But now I have cleared that up for myself. Onto the next word in this 3-word-phrase.
Next: voyeuristic prosecutorial overkill. The word is prosecutorial, when I type it here, shows vocabulary or spelling error. Which makes me think its not a word at all, but one of those made-up-conventions of modern speak and writing, that works well in google media. Prosecutorial. Makes me think of one taking the offensive. Not that doing so is offensive, but more so, I relate with all things football this time of the year. NFL. And I bury this word in the mud, prosecutorial is about going on offense. Me, I like defense. Putting 300 pound men on the line and beating the crap out of the other guy, facing you. So that’s how I handle the word: prosecutorial. I don’t think its really a word, but that doesn’t stop me from figuring out the overkill part.
Word three. Overkill. And I have plenty of help with figuring out what overkill means. Simply stated, it means: excessive. And because I am part of the warrior crowd, I have a flashback. Comes as a voice in my head. I see it clearly. "Step away from the window." For me, this is a quote or line from the movie, made in 1975 by Robert Redford and was Pollack’s most accomplished film: 3 Days of the Condor. Explains it all to me. There is no confusion. Bad guy says, "Step away from the window, please." Then kills the nice oriental lady who says, "I won’t scream." And its brilliant. Explains it all. Overkill. Excessive force. It is the shooting that kicks off the plot of the movie and follows me around for the rest of my life. Is a brilliant set-piece of cold efficiency. I get it.
As for the phrase: voyeuristic prosecutorial overkill. I don’t get it, but feel better now, a day later that I have taken the time to break it down, and in my own way, dispose of it. Now I am ready to write a blog, which I title: Melbourne Toast Company. But before I do this, want to say that Von Sydow’s chilling hitman in the movie 3 Days of the Condor, 1975 has prepared me to deal with Google News Headlines and do so without doing any harm to the guy sitting next to me on the commuter train. That is a good thing. Am able to accept the idea that there is a lot of porn on the internet. Am able to handle the concept and the word. Voyeuristic. Am okay with that and the notion that people watching is like a good hobby these days, 2014. Is ok: : observing unsuspecting individuals. Have learned: its the norm. No worries.
Need to work on using our words. Explain the situation a little better. "…voyeuristic prosecutorial overkill…" means very little to me today. Yesterday’s attempt at getting my attention. Did it work. Not sure. Must have. It is in my blog. And now, I am good to go.
I have used up all the time allotted for writing a blog. Like to keep it short, but today it feels like I have exhausted myself and the subject, before it even starts. Woke up and had a little time on my hands. "Write a blog." Was the voice speaking to me. So wasn’t sure what I would write about. So I made up something. Typed the words: Melbourne Toast Company into google search. And doing so and looking at the endless possibility of site returns, got me excited. You see, Melbourne Toast Company does not exist. It is a manufactured facet of my imagination.
It came to me. I expanded on it by involving google search. I like the way Google operates. They take the words I type, do a search and return an endless list of sites that might satisfy my inquiry. Of course we know, it is a grand business scheme to sell my information to somebody. Advertising and well, its just the way things are in 2014. Nothing is free. Words draw attention and we go from there. So tomorrow I might look at my notes and expand on what is there. As for Melbourne Toast Company, as far as I know, it doesn’t exist. Is part of the flashback morning I am having. Is what happens when you send young men to war, then release them in society and yes, 50 years later they are still around. Writing blogs.
THE E-and-E EXPRESS
Step on board the E-and-E Express. Not the same as the famous Oriental Express that takes you from Moscow to Beijing, but is an adventure all its own, and I want to be the first to tell you about it. Comes from being a Johnny-Come-Lately, and having a history of coming in second. Started a long time ago, but is a story to be told at another time. Recently, I had a split second moment to display my intelligence and wit, and wow the viewer with my instant response. It didn’t happen.
But now I am back. Have time on my hands, and that spells trouble for the keyboard, as I now dictate with voice command and control, a new software device that allows me to talk, and writes it all down, as if he had his hands on the keyboard and not in his pockets. No delay in delivery, and centered near the big bulge doesn’t keep his mind from spinning into orbit. He has a way all his own, and with technology who is to know that secondary pathways in the neural network bring him to you.
He smiles.
In person you might be taking in his every move, reading his body language, and be distracted by little things, unimportant when you encounter him in a blog. Here it doesn’t matter where his hands are, as long as they are clean and do not infect the environment. Face to Face is equal to being in person. This might be your first choice. Taking a look at him. Holding his hands, and turning them over, taking in the cosmic detail that comes with the lines on the palm of right and left-brained man. Not sure one can be both, but with two hands and a frontal lobe that is in working order, anything is possible.
Physicality takes a back row seat, to knowing him in the biblical sense. Secondary in my mind, he is not my main man, nor my first concern. We visit. Chat each other up. He writes blogs and so do I. That is my central interest. Word Display.
There is a vast universe out there in blog space, that he visits from time to time. Yesterday and they were being polite, leaving comments on blogs each had written. Complimentary recognition of content, well done. Mutual in demeanor and respect, they had a brief meeting. Was like running into a pretty woman, and for an instant being tongue-tied, and in an instant the opportunity was over. First impressions and it feels like he missed his window of opportunity to expand the moment in real time.
Face to Face and he is stoney-blogger-silent.
A compliment in the form of a single line statement, becomes a tacit barrier for him. What comes after the big moment, is him. Coming in Second. A second change. Goes off into the night, discussing with himself, all the things he could have said, that would have given him center stage in the conversation. The conversation that never was.
Now he is back. Ready to board the E -and- E Express. Ready to try again. Ready to map out his blueprint for success, for entry into their world, complete with second thoughts and clever replies, a chance for space recovery when up-side-down becomes a free fall, where everybody can land on their feet, if it is ground that is their target, and not that empty expanse of ocean that is often used for re-entry.
It all revolves around a spinning earth and the people who inhabit it. Includes the computer crowd that access each other via the World Wide Web and Stations of Comprehension along the way. He is back and wants to tell you something.
Let’s begin.
E-and-E express refers to the vehicle I have created that allows me to function properly in an unknown place. Yesterday I found myself in a place lacking total comprehension of the conventions and style of those who were there. Foreign territory for me. Begins with word play. A special place where people go, to get instructions and then begin.
Scribbles And Bits.
Have been slightly aware that it is there. That it is a social platform for doing things, strange to me, but enjoyed by many. Word Play. They write a blog and use Their-Words. People come by and comment on their contribution and effort. So this is my starting point, for having a conversation with myself.
E & E. It would be better if I was tuned in, and could have a conversation and real time encounter with you, but based on the difficulties that would have to be over-come,
I rate it next to impossible.
So she said. Endearing and Enduring. That was her opening volley.
He had no response so the conversation ended. Dead silence. The black of night. A gap and delay. Now he hopes to reconstruct the scene and have value in the present moment.
So he said. Exuberant and Excessive. This was his second chance.
In his mind it is like inter-planetary travel and alien visitation. It might not happen, but then again in his lifetime he has seen the barriers fall. Once land-locked and stationary, frozen in place by world war and the limitations that come with circumstances of distress, he accepted his fate. But then change happened. 1969. Earth man went to the moon. Created an outer space presence. In his mind, this extra-ordinary event made more room for him. Now he was ready for more. More achievements. One thing leads to another. Is more than word play. But at this moment, he is not sure how to join in.
Seems there are problems in translating his words, to something understandable for them . And perhaps that is the power of words. He has his. She has hers. Together they present a unified whole. But he isn’t sure. Confident he is. As a man. Unsure about earth women, and that puts him in a precarious state. State. Country. World. Word play and its all related. Perhaps in Scribbles and Bits, there is a normal explanation for all of this. For the moment he resides in The Basin of Incomprehension. Feels like he is out for a space walk, and dares not remove his helmet. Barriers, both tacit and explicit. And so the solution is up in the air.
He is a man. He doesn’t understand. Shows his hand. Shows his stuff. Tries to explain where he is, but then realizes his words mean nothing to them. Says he is in the middle of the Long Game, and it may take years to make the passage from where you are to where he seems to be. Its a bit confusing, how we can be so close in the blog-sphere, and then be miles apart and incomprehensible in the real world, and in real time.
He’d like for things to be different, but this is where he finds himself. Tacit Barriers and twice-removed from your every day reality. He wants to fit in and find himself with you, but then that’s where his difficulties begin. He blames it on the words they use. Tacit Barriers. Explicit Barriers. Time and Space and State of Mind. He is a man. He doesn’t understand.
He tries something new. Reverse order viewing. Sees himself in a mirror of cosmic importance. Tries to identify himself. Tries to relate with you, and others. Hopes to go beyond Scribbles and Bits. Hopes to make the journey on the E & E Express. Seeks entry into your world and world-space. Wants to hold hands or a conversation or something. Staring at beauty in every sense of the word, he wants to say.
"Its complicated, but we can do it. Let’s try."
When tacit emphasis is a major part of his operating style, we see his existence over a long period of time, with the normal facets of identity and loyalty, as partially hidden from those who seek to observe and then profile such an individual. It takes years to get to know this man with any degree of certainty, that you can predict and be comfortable with his behavior. In his case, it is best to say, "…not knowing him at an inner level is a barrier to understanding what is on his mind when communicating with him, face to face or even by email and in writing." You look at him and just know his tacit mannerisms prevent you from knowing him better, as you wish to do.
I have been reading his blogs for years, and am still mystified by his writings and train of thought.
It is about presenting an image that others wish to be associated with. A reciprocal relationship. A high-quality understanding of what he represents and is all about. Something we want to be part of. Communicative justice. A sense of something more on the future exchange of thoughts and feelings and enterprise. It would be fun to know what this man is really thinking and writing about. Have been reading his blogs for a long time now, and this aspect of his presence seems to remain.
There seems to be tacit barriers between us. Prevents me from getting to know him better. Need a word check. Should not come down to word-play. It should be spelled out correctly. Word compositions should be explicit. Just say what you mean. But don’t be mean when you say it.
Tacit means internally based and is often intangible or vague.
Explicit means it is generally accepted and understood by the reading audience.
Been looking into this from various aspects. It might be said, it is stream of consciousness writing, which is short-hand for saying, "He is having a conversation with himself and doesn’t mind if we are listening in." Having an audience does not affect his content. It is internal to his surroundings, whatever that means, and is often intangible or vague. Never-the-less, intriguing. This Jupiter Man. He may live in a house divided. There maybe barriers to knowing him better.
In specific terms we might agree, what-you-see/is-what-you- get when it comes to him. Intangible and vague. To me, he feels like one of Jupiter’s moons. He is out there. Can be seen, but never comfortably in my world. He exists, with or without me in a world of his own making. A product of his mind. Showing up.
Boarding The E-and- E Express.
"All Aboard."
Going the distance to be with you. He finds himself exuberant and excessive. She finds it endearing and enduring. And before you know it, they are in the middle of something. He calls it:
The Long Game.
TALKS ARE DEADLOCKED
The clock is ticking. All sights are set on temporary. Talking about it won’t change a thing, but sometimes between friends and family, communication and the sound of music is comforting. I remember Robin Williams made me laugh. I remember Bogart and Bacall. Thought life could be like that, and did not prepare me for marriage with a regular voice. Thought Becall’s voice was sexy, and that nothing would change that. But change came. Even my most sexiest mate could not save me from the drastic affects of aging. So its old news, as I read the morning paper, that people come and go.
Old news and am spending less time reading the paper delivered in the rain by an inspiring paper-boy, who gets up at 4 A.M to make sure you have your paper at first light, with first cup of coffee and before you are out the door to go to work. Disturbing the century old pattern of sitting at the table, or in the subway or on the rail down from Connecticut reading, while headed for the city. Those days are gone. There are no jobs. And if we are fortunate, we work at home. No commute. To have this all unfold in real time brings forth revelation.
Times have changed. We do our best to get by, raise our family, and have a quality of life we want to expand on, for the sake of our children. Having said that, Robin Williams and he made me laugh. And its my nature, to stare down danger and be a storm chaser, so laughing is not what you get, when you think of me. Think: The Long Game.
So Talks Are Dead-locked, is not a political topic. More so, its about the passing of things I loved. The great ones and with innocent eyes, I sat on the lap of greatness, and took it all in. I have never spent a lot of time, trying to reconcile differences. Am aware that movies and Hollywood are for the young. Those who still have their looks and on-screen sex appeal. Over time, we have seen so many variations on the Come-Here-Look. Then comes Lauren Becall and the voice. And just when we needed more, Bogart shows to give us adventure and suspense. Then comes Robin Williams and Mrs. Doubtfire.
Comes the cultural wars, and women out and about, in the workplace. Sharing and Caring at home, but in the workplace, is something that is disturbing; competition and do-what-ever-is-required: Hillary-style. And over time, I did find that disturbing. Not sure talking ever settled the chaos of the gender battles. So I tried to stay out of it. Strong silent type, with The Long Game.
Stay on topic. Madonna and she was the first to remind me, dancing on a stage in scanty attire is not the same as love and affection in the bedroom. Talks are dead and locked away. Conversation after making love, is different than what you see on television and in Hollywood movies. But these things come and go. Women now join men on the commuter train. Jostling and a quickie. No time for conversation. And is where the idea of talk being in the land of the dead, and not
Live-in-the- Present-Moment etched itself in mind.
And I miss that. Sitting at the table. Newspaper in hand. Pretty lady in makeup, before the sun comes us, serving coffee. And one thing leads to another, as we are young and always in the mood. Have not had our first child yet. Back to bed. Late for work. The results are surprising. He calls his boss. Uses man code to explain the situation. Long Game and I will be a few hours late, but will work into the night. That big deal will happen. "Count on me." And over the years, we grow old together.
Lauren and Bogey. Robin Williams makes me laugh. Sure the truth of the matter is disturbing. Is why we don’t really talk about it. Why we say: "Talks are deadlocked." Is why we learn to cordon off our emotions, and keep our distance concerning most things. But at the end of the day, it all speaks for itself. Things play out. The great ones come and go.
And in the middle of something, we remember. He was great. I enjoyed his long game. "Now when was that? 1950’s. 1980’s. 2001." Miss and Mister. Will not really talk about it and reveal our most intimate feelings and times together. Will leave it as the morning headlines declare to me. Talks are Deadlocked. And will leave it to my imagination, the real behind the scenes details, when they turned the lights down, turned up the music, and lit the candles. No sequel. Quite the original. My man . The Long Game.
Back in the day, when Lauren and Bogey and Robin Williams inspired me. Back in the day, before the talks were deadlocked." And the women walked out. Joined the work-force. And became part of the cultural wars. Then came the politicals, and its true. We don’t talk much any more.
You and I.
