Throwing a Parade

So,

I'm talking to Kaida last night, and the conversation is winding down, and she says something pointing out a great thing (in her eyes) that she did, and clearly wanting credit for it. I decide to ignore her. And, like all women who feel they have not been justifiably praised for their wondrous deeds, she repeats the sentence, just in case I didn't hear.

This leads to a mild argument about whether what she did is praiseworthy, and how class it is to call attention to that allegedly praiseworthy act.

Finally I deadpan, "Let's add that to the list of reasons to throw a parade."

I knew I had a classic. What a great line, right? You know you want to start using it. In fact, I forgive her self-aggrandizement, as it led to such Awesome on my part.

Of course, like a woman, watch Kaida now try to take credit for "inspiring" my line.

The Splendor Falls

I subscribe to a "Poem of the Day" email. Today's was "The Splendor Falls" by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. I've been reading and re-reading the poem for about two hours, trying to soak it all in. (It's from "The Princess," if you're a Tennyson fan.) Lamentably, I know very little about Tennyson and his work. I have some thoughts on this, but other than the obvious (death, what comes after), I have nothing worth sharing on what the poem might mean, or what the author might be trying to say.

But that's okay. Poetry doesn't always have to be explained. Sometimes you just take it in and enjoy. Hopefully you will, as well.




The Splendor Falls
Lord Tennyson


The splendor falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story;
The long light shakes across the lakes,
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying. dying, dying.

O, hark, O, hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O, sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river;
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow for ever and for ever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

Schizophrenic Psycho

Yesterday I was sitting in the parking lot at Wal-Mart, because I am most surely an idiot. We needed a few groceries, which my sister and I were going to get. However: Saturday was the 2nd, the day after payday, which means everybody and their brother was at Wal-Mart (on a Saturday afternoon).


Second, every year Georgia runs this scam where they hold a "tax holiday," in order to get people to spend more money. Are people this stupid? In a word? Yes.

(We like to do the shopping in the middle of the night, when it's just you and the stockers. Might be a little tough to maneuver, but it's so nice to move in relative freedom.)

Anyway, so the plan was ill-conceived. Unfortunately, my allergies were just killing me, and (this is gross, in case you want to skip to the next paragraph), I kept swallowing snot all through lunch, and I drank water on top of Chinese food, which is salty, which means it didn't digest, which means the snot just curdled in my stomach, and long story short, I kept throwing up ribbons of snot as I spit/blew my nose hundreds of times.

This meant that I stayed in the car while my sister went it. (Actually, I drove around to different parking spots, because I kept opening my car door to throw up and I didn't want to be associated or near that. I couldn't really get out and walk around because it was almost 100 degrees.

So not good times.

However, the point: as I was sitting and not breathing, I listened to hard-rock radio. Not generally my first club out of the bag, but I was too miserable even to change the dial. One of the songs caught me with the line "Maybe I'm the one who is.....the schizophrenic psycho." As they say, it was like they were playing my song.



When I got home I looked it up; turns out the song is sung by Puddle of Mudd. (It's called "Psycho.") I'm not super familiar with them, but I've heard a few of their songs. I seem to recall in one of them that someone (either the singer or the girl he was singing about), wanted his/her ass smacked. Not sure why that detail stuck in my head.

I listened to the song again, and read over the lyrics. They seemed mysterious and meaningful, even though they probably aren't. Here you go:



Follow along with the lyrics.


Then, I happened to find another version, the music video. This changed everything for me. Has that ever happened to you? You totally like a song, it seems to hit that certain part of the back of your brain, to reach out and "get" you, but the video is so different from your interpretation that it almost ruins it? They won't let me embed that, but if the song hooked you, watch it here.

I suppose I should wrap this up with something witty or interesting, but I can't breathe again, so I'm done.