More After School Special

My last blog post was about my after school experience with my buddy, Ace (not his real name), who bless his heart was game enough to help me make a video, which we agreed to title, The Totsquel.  He was also game enough to make some Rice Krispies Treats for the first time and let me film that too.  Tater Tot Hot Dish and Rice Krispies Treats.  Surely a comfort food fest.

In going back and finally looking through all the video to come up with something to upload to YouTube, I didn't remember we had almost an hours worth of just Rice Krispies Treats video.  I know, huh?  Making the treats is supposed to be easy.  And I guess for that matter it was a lot of fun; just took a little more time than I thought.  I condensed our experience to two videos.

The first video will school you all the way to when the mix is ready to be put in a pan/container.  The second is our experience getting the mix to the container.  Also, in what we had deemed, "The Bjork Experimental Kitchen", we made a second batch which we added some PB to the mix.

I left out footage of our third batch, which did include using some red and green holiday colored marshmallows.  As fun and festive as it sounded to do so, the reality was that when the two colors got melted together it looked more like some sort of brown, disgusting goo.  The only thing that might have been nice to include and I didn't was the use of some chocolate/peppermint bark that we melted in the microwave to frost some of our Rice Krispies Treats' loaves with.

As you may or may not know, chocolate has a very low temperature melting point.  It didn't take much to go from melting-the-bark-to-spread to ruining the bark because we nuked it a bit too long.  This is a great reason why if you have the equipment, using the double boiler method of melting (click here to see a video on how-to) is most likely preferable. 

Of all the different versions we experimented with, even though peanut butter and peppermint don't sound like it would be a tasty combo, my favorite was the peanut butter enhanced Rice Krispies Treats with the chocolate/peppermint bark frosted on top.



Here comes Part 2.



P.S.  We got those cute little loaf pans, which we determined as a perfect gift size (enough to give you more than one serving and yet no so much that you feel like you are going to get sick of it...always leave them wanting more, eh?) at the 99 cent store, which truth be told is actually more specifically the 99.99 cent store now (plus tax).  That said, I was discussing this with Ace the other day and he said in honor of Valentine's Day, this might be a nice little gift for your favorite Valentine.  You get heart shaped pans at the 99.99 cent store.  You make your favorite version of Rice Krispies Treats.  Then you give your Valentine a heart-shaped pan of Rice Krispies Treats you made your self.  That's such a warm feeling, it might just be enough heat to melt some butter.  And I stick by it people (just like they mention in the movie, "Julie and Julia")...just about everything is better with butter.

Isn't Ace a natural on camera?

Thanks, Ace.  This was fun.

P.S.  I'd also like to include a shout out to "The Carpenters" who have been enhancing my Holiday music experience for more years than I care to specifiy here.  Thanks.

After School Special

Back in November I did a blog post about my adventure and subsequent video of me making Tater Tot Hot Dish (TTHD) after having Ore-Ida Tater Tots at Sharks Cove in Hermosa Beach (the "h" is silent).

Once in a while when no one else can (I'm going to assume it's not 'cuz I am the last choice but out of respect for my time and kindness), I'll pick up my buddy, Ace, from school.  Don't tell his mom, but since it is only every once in a while I enjoy us hanging out.  I let myself act more like a kid when he's with me.  We go places, play games, talk about our hopes and dreams (yes, I still have some).  In a word, we have "fun".

Sometimes Ace is a little less than truthful.  Not in a bad way.  Just sometimes I can't 100% trust that something he said he's done in the physical isn't just something he's done in his mind.  So when I shared my Tater Tot Hot Dish video with him, he shared that he'd made the dish before.  True?  Not true?  I wasn't going to let it matter.  Instead, I figured why not just enjoy making the dish together.  Ace is awesome on camera.

So....with that out of the way, let's go right to the video.



P.S.  If I didn't say, would you have noticed that in all of our excitement of combining this with making Rice Krispies Treats that we forgot to film the finished product?

Sucker for Great Sax

It's interesting to me how ones mind and thoughts connect one to another.  Okay.  It's interesting to me how my mind (when I let my self think about) appears to put together certain thoughts and musings.

The other day I was thinking about how a part of Malibu you see from the PCH reminded me of Maui except "no rainbows".  That made me think of the Marshall Tucker Band song, Searchin' for a Rainbow.  That got me to thinking if there are any other groups from the 70's I hadn't listened to for a while and just loved.  Hall and Oates.  Mmmmmmm hmmmmm.  Yes.

While cyberspace appears to include just about any subject you can imagine, YouTube can't be far behind.  I checked YouTube to see what they had on Hall and Oates.  Impressive.  I started to listen.  Can I just write? Music for my soul.  Mmmmmm hmmmmm.  Yes.

Initially I was a little surprised, but pleasantly so.  Most of what appeared to be available for my listening pleasure was stuff from the 70's, in particular MusikLaden 1977 videos.  In these videos I personally felt I could sense Hall and Oates love, appreciation and joy in making music.  Fearless.  Unafraid to give a somewhat different spin on their songs so you knew they simply hadn't memorized the same version recorded on their album.  Not just live music, but music ALIVE!

Listening made me think how similar these Hall and Oates' performances were to some of Prince's music.  I saw Prince in San Diego in 2004.  The tour he said would be the last of him doing his old stuff.  The tour he mentions somewhat derisively how many music acts today have little know how of actually playing music.  Prince does.  He can jam out.  He's got more than funk in his soul, apparently it is also in his behind.  He can't help himself.

And the Saxophone (sax) on "Do What You Want. Be What You Are".  Amazing.  Made me think of how much I've always been a sucker for great sax.  I used to think I wished to play sax one day.  Yet let's take a close look at that wish?

"I wish to play saxophone one day."

Doesn't say anything about playing well or playing for more than one day.  Is it a wonder I don't play?

Then I watched the movie, "The Lovely Bones" last night.  The main character is murdered on December 6, 1973, she at the tender age of only 14.  As I was watching, I started doing the math.  OMG!  I was 14 on that day, December 6, 1973, in history.  That date isn't my actual birth date, but you know? We are 14 for a year.  I was in 9th grade at the time, Hosterman Junior High in New Hope, Minnesota.

This got me to thinking about ninth grade and how different life was.  The many experiences I've had since then I could have never predicted.  I didn't even know how to type yet.  I wouldn't learn that until 10th grade in a class where only half of us got to use electric typewriters.  The rest of us were stuck with the manual typewriters.

If you would have told me then that someday I'd be able to type so fast (without looking at the keys) that I could type just about as fast as I can think (so either I type really fast or think really slow...hmmm), I probably wouldn't have believed you.  In ninth grade the thought of it may have just been too much of a feat for me to fathom, which may have had me deciding not to attempt it.  Yet here I am.

It's as if when I play this instrument, aka the keyboard, it becomes an extension of my self.  Even my in-the-beginning, oh-so-lame and wimpy, left pinky finger has caught up and now pulls its weight equally with my other fingers.  No longer do I need to think of the individual letters to forge the particular words.  I simply think the word and my fingers somehow just seem to fashion them effortlessly.

Now when I dream of writing something yet to be written (which seems to happen a lot for me in bed or in the shower), I don't worry about the mechanics.  I simply let it flow out of my mind and through my fingers.  Whatever the combination of letters and words, it is as if I must give them expression even if they are not always as imagery evocative as say the first lines of Daryl Hall's lyrics for the song, Abandoned Luncheonette.

     They sat in an abandoned luncheonette sipping imaginary cola and drawing faces on the table-top dust.

In my mind, pure poetry.

Somehow all of this got me to thinking that if I were really to learn to play an instrument, it wouldn't be the sax.  I would wish to play blues guitar emulating Eric Clapton.  This isn't the first time I had this thought.  In fact I went so far as to buy a guitar and a DVD the House of Blues put out with instructions for beginners to play blues guitar.  I actually watched the DVD...once...while holding and strumming my guitar with what I could only characterize as some sort of relative version of fear.  How was I ever going to get from this to playing the blues like Clapton?  Too much.  Too hard.  Won't happen.  Why bother?

Now I am rethinking.  You know I figured out I've already lived over 18,000 days in this lifetime.  I pretty much expect to live about another 18,000 and not living them with a sort of waiting for my body to break down and me to die mode.  Like my friend, Keith Salender, who has walked most of the Pacific Coast from Seattle to almost San Diego by putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time and my ability to type as fast as I can think, which started with beginner lessons on a manual typewriter; I could start learning to play blues guitar this week.

I could see my self in bed at the young age of 70 pondering how way back in 2009 before I was 50, all I had was a $30 guitar I ordered on-line from Amazon (just in case, I didn't wish to make too much of a financial commitment), a $15 DVD (when I am 70, no doubt DVDs will be dinosaur technology) from the House of Blues (the one in Anaheim part of Downtown Disney) and a desire to metaphorically put one foot in front of the other--one step at a time.  As I ponder, even my left hand is on board.  I don't have to think of the individual notes.  I dream of music yet to be played anticipating the feel of the instrument, the guitar in my hands, as an extension of me.  And I must express this music.  Even if I am the only one who hears it.

The other alternative is pondering at 70 what I never started.  Yet?  For this is where I come full circle.  No regrets!  No complaining!  No explaining!  I could start at 70 and ponder at 90.  These are some of the types of ideas I have gleaned from the book, Excuses Begone!, by Dr. Wayne Dyer.

His words have inspired me to think of 2010 as my first year of really expressing my self as a WHOLE, Divine being.  A well-being.  NOthing wrong with me.  NOthing to heal.  NOthing to fix.  Now what do I wish to do?  Who I am is already taken care of...has already been determined by my Creator.  Technically unchangeable.  Divine.  Spirit.  Energy.  It got me to thinking that if the book, Excuses Begone!, were to ever have a theme song; it would have to be, "Do What You Want. Be Who You Are" by Hall and Oates.  I'd change the title just a smidge by sliding in a word.  "Do What You Want.  Be (Divine) Who You Are".

Without further ado, I include the Hall and Oates' video from YouTube with the great sax, "Do What You Want.  Be Who You Are."  Enjoy!

Happy Accidents

Do you ever have one of those days?

I planned to go to Point Dume (pronounced du-may) in Malibu to see if I could walk from the west beach to the east beach via the beach.  Rocks pepper the beach of the actual point.  So I wondered if at low tide a person could actually walk around (without getting too wet) or was that area always covered in water.  And I couldn't just ask someone.  That would be too easy, right?  I had to find out for myself.

So, I dutifully checked the low tide schedule.  I planned what time I would have to leave my home to be at Point Dume at low tide.  I made sure my camera battery was all charged up.  I was off to check it out.

Normally, I don't enjoy the 405 Highway and will choose an alternate route, but to get to Malibu it seems like the best choice.  As I was traversing the highway, my mind became lost in things I might see, what I might write about it, new ideas I might write about, blah, blah, blah.  I missed my exit.  I got back on the 405 going the other way so I could get on Highway 10 and missed that exit.  After another fifteen minutes of waiting to turn left and following signs in Santa Monica, finally...I was on the 10 and on my way.

So much for getting to Point Dume right at low tide.  No worries.  There had been warnings all day about what was going on with the ocean, which meant much higher than normal waves at the beach.  Maybe I wouldn't get to test my wonder about walking around Point Dume at beach level, but I would most likely see some excellent surfing.  If you don't know by now, I love to watch.

When I arrived at Cliffside Drive hoping to snag a parking spot, there were many vehicles hoping to do the same and the area was abuzz with surfers.  Cool!  I knew this would be some golden filming.

I went back down to park on Westward Beach Road and see what I could see.  Right away I spied a photo op.  Out came my camera and click...memory full.  What?  I knew that I had deleted everything on the card before replacing it in my camera.  What was this?  This couldn't be true.  This couldn't be happening.  So, of course, what did I do?  Try to take about five more pictures all with the same result.  Camera useless.

I didn't drive all this way though to simply get back in my car and drive home.  By now it was a good 75 minutes past optimum low-tide time.  I walked over to see how high the water was on the west beach to see if I could pass.  Way too high.  Denied. (author's note: the next day I returned to Point Dume with my camera functioning...so, I have since included some photos to highlight this blog from my next day trip)

Up the path I went making a B-line for the stairs to the east beach.  At the top of the stairs I could see at least a dozen surfers at the Point waiting to catch a wave.

I descended the stairs greeted by a rocky stretch.  The sand that had been my greeter less than 14 days ago was now covered in rocks.  Don't worry.  The rocks weren't that big and easily navigated.

Now what?

Since I didn't have use of my camera and I'd already discerned I couldn't walk around Point Dume at beach level, I decided to go left.

Oh the things I saw.  A boat motor had washed up on the shore.  Even though the tide was still fairly low, I wasn't seeing any starfish.  Were they hiding?

Then as I got close to the area (which I have circled on the photo included with this blog) I noticed a guy with a backpack and some walking sticks walking close to me.  Since I had never actually walked this far east before, I decided to ask him if he had.  "No" was the reply.  "First time."

Now while I currently don't believe that the coming together of phenomenon in a given moment can be explained by one simple contributing cause, I have since been mulling over how amazing it seems to me that this person I struck up a conversation with was in fact on a hiking trip he'd started in Seattle, Washington.  I find it especially interesting because I rarely tend to engage people I don't know in conversation.

I'm still a little in awe as I sit here at my laptop contemplating what to write next about this.  We exchanged cards.  He asked me to friend him on Facebook.

I thought of him last night sleeping wherever on the beach in his sleeping bag he'd fished from the backpack that didn't really look big enough to me to carry all the things one might feel they would need for such a journey.  Once in July I slept out in a tent and I was cold.  Something about the moisture in the air.  I just couldn't imagine.

What I loved the most is that he, Keith Salender, reminded me as we talked that in my life there have been many times when people have trusted me with their life and their possessions without a seeming reason or knowing me that well.  I know they had every reason to trust me, but I've known me for over 50 years.  And in a world where it seems we are smarter to not trust others (if you believe all the news reports), we talked about how his journey so far was proving to be more of a reason to trust people.

It made me ruminate over the teaching of the Law of Attraction.  Actually, it got me thinking about one of the stories in the book, Autobiography of a Yogi, by Paramahansa Yogananda.  It's been a while, but one of his rites of passage had him being sent out with a friend on a journey to a certain destination with seemingly no resources (including financial ones).  They weren't allowed to ask for help either.  They were simply to have total trust in the Universe.

Anyway, if Keith and I never meet again, I feel blessed to have had the few minutes together we did.  Click here if you wish to be connected to his flickr presence.  He's been uploading some of the photos he's been taking along his journey.  If I remember correctly, his ultimate destination is Pennsylvania...the long way, obviously.  What's the hurry, right?

Did I mention he's doing this walking?  Walking!

I know this is getting long.  I do this as much for potential readers as for myself, especially since I had no camera on this day.

So what else did I see?

Just about the time I hadn't seen one starfish and I was thinking to myself, "hmmm, I guess no starfish sightings today."  I saw one.

I saw white heron.  I got pretty up close and personal.  They didn't seem to care.  Of course, I am no threat.

I saw a sea gull with some sort of something in its beak I can only assume it thought was food.  Try as I might I couldn't figure out what it was the sea gull had gotten a hold of.  With its beak wide open, I got to see its tongue.  My first ever sea gull tongue sighting.  It struck me as sort of funny.  Don't know why.

The portion I circled on the photo, I asked one of the surfers if this part of the beach had a name so I would know how to refer to it later when I wrote about it...what do surfers call it.  "Misstoe" was his reply.

"What?"

"Misstoe" he said again.

"Did you say misstoe?  How do you spell that?"  I asked.

Well, he didn't know.  And a thought popped in my brain.  Okay, remember the word and then look it up on Google.  So, this area is actuallly known as "Misto".

As I stood at Misto watching the surfers ride the waves, it reminded me of when I first moved back to California.  For some reason when I thought of waves surfers would want to ride, I had a picture of the big waves you find in Hawaii during winter time when the surfing contests take place.  So to me, California's waves were wimpy.

Not today at Misto.  This was the first time I could recall where the waves were high enough that you could see the surfer inside the wave and still have wave above and below the surfer.  These were some waves.

By now the sun was starting to seriously set and it was time to start back to my car.  As I was walking back I thought what could make this day any more better (my English teacher would be so proud).  Gray whales!  Wouldn't it just be the most awesome thing if I saw some gray whales now?  Nope.  I swear though, in looking I feel like I saw some dolphins.

I ascended those stairs like a pro.  What?  How does a pro ascend stairs?  Okay, there was a surfer behind me.  And let me tell you, these stairs are one-way stairs.  There is not room enough on them for a two-way passing.  So, I didn't wish to feel like I was holding up traffic.  I was doing pretty good until about half-way up at which point for the sake of my beating heart, I felt like I had to take a pause.  There.  I admitted that.

I'm about to get to the street when I see a man on a bike riding toward the beach overlook.  I swear.  He could have been Ted Danson.  I saw Mr. Danson once at LAX.  Man he is tall and thin, I thought.  Was it him?  Who knows.  I didn't have a camera to figure it out.  So I guess I'm saying it was.  Prove it wasn't. 

About the time I stopped thinking about all of this, I noticed a woman and her daughter walking the trail with their two dogs.  There are plenty of signs around that specifically state dogs are not allowed.  And so I started thinking and riffing about that.  I guess for some people signs are simply suggestions.  And before I get too judgmental, I've been known to view certain signs as suggestions, as well.

Then I started thinking that even if they are suggestions, you'd think people would be better about following the signs.  I mean I would assume Malibu didn't just for the heck of it decide to put up "no dogs allowed" signs at Point Dume.  I'd like to think they had a good reason.  No more than a beat in time later, here comes a man, woman and child walking the trail with their two dogs.  I laughed to myself.

Oh and one other thing I saw, a plastic, purple shovel.  You know...a little kid one for playing in the sand.  How can I be sure?  It's now in the back seat of my car. You know...just in case I ever need to dig my way out of something.

Feeling Bad.

Something occurred to me this 2009 holiday season, which I am unsure I can pinpoint my exact "ah ha" moment, but I think it had something to do with watching full seasons of the TV show "House" back-to-back on DVD.

If you have never seen an episode of House, as I hadn't until sometime in 2009 at which point I became almost a House junkie, but I digress...you wouldn't know that House is short for Dr. Gregory House, a highly sought after medical diagnostician who basically by most social conventions (and his staff and boss on the show) would be considered an asshole.  He appears to be able to get away with it because despite his motives (his patients and curing them are more like solving a puzzle to Dr. House than anything else) he is almost always right and saves lives.

Between watching this and all the family dynamics in my family at the holidays, I realized how much I feel like I have been programmed to feel bad about so very many things.  I don't seek to play the blame game here.  At this point in my life there are probably so many contributing factors it would most likely take the rest of my life to track them all down.

Anyway, I feel the real "ah ha" in it for me is that despite all my spirituality searching, self-help reading and seeking to apply this knowledge in my life; when it comes to feeling bad because I feel like this is the socially acceptable way I must act not to be considered a "bitch" (or probably closer to the truth...so you will like me), I appear to be a frequent flier. I seemed to be on autopilot unaware of this behavior and its effects.

If the Law of Attraction has taught me anything, it is that like attracts like.  Looking back over my life I can so see how feeling bad energetically has attracted more events in my life to feel bad about.

While the whole law of attraction thing seems to be dying down; I still feel much of what Esther Hicks as Abraham includes in her books with her hubby, Jerry, applies.  To really synthesize it beyond "like attracts like", I offer " the better you feel, the better you feel".  Conversely, the worse you feel, the worse you feel.  In the same way that no matter how many times I might want to write the word "good" by spelling it "bad" ain't gonna fly, feeling bad will never radiate an energetic vibration of attracting outer experiences to feel good about.

Plus, it seems like the rules about what a person is socially supposed to feel bad about are so subjective anyway.  It would be one thing if there was say ten commandments for what you should feel bad about and everything else you can feel good about, but there is not.

For instance, a friend had lent me a book.  While reading it I folded over the edge of one of the pages because there was something on that page I wanted to remember.  I do this in my books all the time.  It never occurred to me that someone thought so much about a $10 book that they would never dream of defacing it in anyway.  Anyway, this made my friend very angry.  So much so that she yelled at me and basically called me a moron for defacing her book.  Truth be told, I felt bad about that for quite a while.  Would House?  Would I now?  I don't think so.  How did I know?  Would feeling bad bring the book back to pristine condition?  And why would we feel that a loving friend would really desire to make their friend feel bad?  Or just because they felt it was okay for them to try to make us feel bad for our actions (which I believe technically they have the right to do) does this make me obligated to have to feel bad?  I don't feel it does.  What is funny is it seems it usually makes someone angrier when you don't give them the behavior they were expecting to illicit from you. 

For example, the dreaded "silent treatment".  This was a biggie in my family growing up.  Not as much as it was for my dad.  My dad's mother use to go weeks without talking to anyone if she got in a mood for whatever reason.  And back then what was her husband going to do, divorce her?  I don't think so.  Luckily, my current relationship is a million times less dysfunctional.  Although, I find it interesting that it is about the only way my man ever acts out, so to speak.  At least in this case, I was conditioned to be wise to this behavior.  Instead of feeling bad or giving in to the silent treatment by trying to appease him, I simply went on my merry, happy way with life behaving as if everything is fine.  Truth was he was actually in the long run punishing himself more than me.  When he was ready though, we had a very grown-up chat about it.  I mention this because he did say that it made him angrier to see me not engage in his power play.  In his mind it meant I didn't care.  I do care.  It's just that I am finally strong enough to realize I have the right to say "no" when I want to without feeling bad about it or feeling like I should be punished or feeling I've done something wrong.  He has the same right when it comes to things I ask of him.

It says something about you if you are the person engaging the silent treatment.  It says something about you if you give in to it.  It says something about you if you choose not to give into it.  And lest you think I am a saint (LOL), I used to have a bad habit of writing hate letters.  I used to think that if I wrote to someone to complain about the person I was angry with listing all the so-called horrible, awful things the person I was angry with had done to me...well, revealing this would make the person I was angry with see the error of their ways.  Result:  they'd come rushing back to me apologizing profusely for being so horrible to me.  Truth is it just really made me look psycho.

My real point in all of this is that if one can rely on things written in books by Abraham and the like, then each present moment is like a blank slate as far as the Universe is concerned.  A fresh start.  An opportunity to create anew.  An opportunity to redefine yourself and start being someone you feel good about with everything past forgiven and forgotten.  By becoming a little more aware of when we feel bad and why AND if it is really necessary or healthy, for that matter, or simply something we had always done because we thought we were supposed to; we might be able to make a choice to not feel bad.  Instead we may choose to feel good for loving our self in this way.

It seems to me we expect as a society that people are supposed to act a certain way and if they don't then we somehow have the right to make them "tow" the line, so to speak. Or we should feel bad because we don't drive a certain car or live in a certain neighborhood or wear a certain designer label or act our age or watch TV or eat certain foods or be a certain weight or not have the most current hair style or not be cool enough or have a great job or this list could go on and on.  None of this can hurt you or "make" you feel bad about your self unless you agree to allow it to make you feel bad.

Instead, if you allow yourself to feel good about being the best you (by which I mean the you that you love...and you know the difference of how it feels when you do things you love compared to doing things just 'cuz you think you should love them or to impress someone else or prove something, etc.) and making choices from that place, in my mind it is like living on the bonus plan.

The bonus:  you feeling bad less and radiate that vibration less.  You feel less like you have to do or be something you don't desire to.  You feel good because you have reclaimed your God-given right to do what you want as much as someone else who has claimed their God-given right to do what they want (not to mention, they thought it was their God-given right to make you do what they want or else you should feel bad).  AND you are enjoying your life on your terms more, living most of it being, doing and having things that feel good.  The more you feel good, the more you feel good.  The more you feel good, the less you feel the need to have another do what you do or fit in or any of those things.  You celebrate originality.  You are content.  You feel good.  And your feeling these things is not predicated on the opinion of others, which can be given or taken away at their whim.

Okay, you may lose a few friends when you take this stand.  Yet how much of a true friend were they anyway?  You may also lose a most favored status with some family members, especially parents who we have been conditioned not to say no to without fear of punishment (assuming this is your experience).  Still, you gain in peace of mind.  You gain in feeling good.  You gain in feeling good attracting more experiences in your life to feel good about.  When the heart and mind are at peace and feeling good, the health of the physical body can't help but follow.  The mind is first cause over the body.  And it has to be true if House says so.  Right?  Psycho?

Or perhaps true to my intent... Bjork's BLEEP Blog: you never know what I'll blog about next?

People's Choice

I can't believe I did, but last night I watched the People's Choice Awards.  It was sort of a shameless commercial event...at least that is how it seemed to me.  As I watched, I wondered how much truth the recipients of the award felt as they proclaimed their gratitude and appreciation for the people...you know, because without the people they wouldn't be who they are.

The final award went to Johnny Depp.  Mr. Depp has received the most votes in the last ten years of any other artist.  Honestly, I was a bit surprised he showed up to accept the award.

So why did I wish to write about this, especially as you can see it has been almost two months since I've written a blog here?  I feel my motive is somewhat pure and somewhat self serving.

To begin I feel like part of it is we as a society want to feel like answers can come in small easy to digest packages so they are fast.  You know like our food.  That very few of us are willing to enjoy the process or wait.  We want to skip right from the first page to the last page of the story.  I think about this when I film something like people surfing.  Much of their time is spent waiting for the perfect wave just so they might ride it for a couple of seconds of bliss.  And when you see my footage of them surfing, I will have cut out the majority of the waiting time so my audience will simply get to see the good stuff, so to speak.  Yet truth is we are eternal, spiritual beings.  We have all the illusory time in the world to experience anything we desire.  There is always time and space as long as we wish to participate in this earthly 3-D experience.

I feel like my pure motive can best be explained by example.  The other day while working on the computer with the TV news on in the background, a story was being reported about how despite the bad economy this past year crime in L.A. was still at its lowest point in many years.  And then to comment was a representative of the police/law enforcement faction of my fair city, L.A., to take credit on behalf of police/law enforcement for keeping our city safe.  It got me to thinking that except for things like wearing my seat belt and certain parking of my vehicle habits so I don't get tickets, the police have little to do with whether I commit crime.  I'd like to think I am not the only one who is similar.  I am not violent because I am afraid of being punished.  I am peaceful because it is the right thing to do.  Nay!  It is who I am as a child of God.  It is how I define myself.

My point being if you blindly believed the representatives statement, you would accept that the only reason we are safe is because we have police.  While it may be nice to feel like you could put a nice little bow on the result of lower crime and attribute it all to police and law enforcement, I feel this is a disservice to all who essentially self-police because the thought of harming another intentionally is abhorrent to them.

That's where the self-serving part of this came into play.  As I was showering I was thinking about how I have been going over in my mind the different topics I gravitate towards when it comes to sightseeing L.A. and what will my "people" (and by people I mean my treasured readers of my LA Sightseeing Examiner articles or my blog post readers) think?  Will they be excited about it?  Will they love it?  Maybe I should just stop because how do I know what they'll like or what will excite them (okay unless they tell me, which at this point I dont' have that sort of feedback)?  And yet, right there on my CaliforniVacation:SoCal Style blog...hell...on this blog I mention that I write for myself.  Ars Gratia Artis!  Art for Art's Sake!  Metro Goldwyn Mayer used this as their slogan.  Complete in itself.  Get it? I write 'cuz it pleases me...the rest is gravy.

Now I have come full circle.  That's Johnny Depp's win proves my point...my choice.  In my mind the most celebrated actor of the first decade of the new millennium is the actor who would have done it the same way and would have continued to act no matter what the people thought or felt.  He isn't an actor because of the people.  He is an actor because it pleases him.  Art for the sake of Art.  I technically can't speak for Johnny Depp, but I get the sense he has acted and will continue to act as long as it pleases him.  If we love it too, great.  If not, that's okay!  (Plus, it seems to me it also proves that he doesn't owe any of us anything if we love him, buy tickets to his performances or vote for him, etc.  After all did he put a gun to our head to watch any of his performances or force us to love him or for that matter vote for him?)

I feel I would have somehow felt let down if Mr. Depp had implied that without the people he wouldn't be an actor or a great actor, which it appeared to me that some of the other recipients were somehow implying.  Maybe he wouldn't be as popular or as financially wealthy.  I'd like to think, as I write this with my rose colored glasses on, in some innate way, we the people sense and admire this about him as we enjoy his performances.

I guess what the BLEEP I'm trying to say is that if I was looking for an excuse to continue and to write about what pleases me and what I find exciting or interesting without worrying if you will love me or admire me or approve or appreciate my art, I feel I found it.

Party on, Garth!  Party on, Wayne!