Well, I tell you…

I talk about work very seldom on this site. Mostly because this site is supposed to be my creative outlet, which is quite separate from work.

But work this week is super busy. And I am feeling sick. I am popping cough drops and have a scarf wrapped around my throat. Nothing this week, and probably next, can wait. I have to get this stuff done.

I hate being irreplaceable. I try very hard to have a backup for myself, but it doesn’t always work that way.

But that’s not what I came here to write. I am writing because I am losing my voice.

Get it? Can I flash the neon lights on that metaphor any brighter?

Yes, my voice is receding back into my throat. My throat aches with the burden. So, I can’t speak well, and i am writing on this blog.

I was looking at other, better and more popular blogs. I’ve had this blog for forEVAH. I like my blog, but It is not at all organized around a theme. It just acts as a scratch pad for the most part.

I kinda feel like I need to grow up and make something of myself. SIGH.

But you know what? I somehow doubt that even the best writer in the world ever grows out of the need for a scratch pad.

Just because this scratchpad did not produce the works of shakespeare doesn’t mean it is not a good thing to use.

can you tell I’m sick, feeling a bit of self-pity?

i bought O magazine, and Elizabeth Gilbert had a piece in it about how we ladies need to GIVE OURSELVES A BREAK ALREADY! She listed some amazing friends who had impressive achievements. And she said that each of them spent time agonizing over whether they should have gotten that French literature PhD (for example) or should be working on losing those 10 pounds.

So, this country, this state of mind–dissatisfaction and not-enough-itude–is a highly populated one.

I just pictured a bunch of people in the “Thinker” pose, feeling TOTALLY alone, but frustrated at the other people pushing against them. ‘I’d be able to concentrate on how deficient and lonely I am if only all these other people would leave me alone.’

well, that makes me smile anyway. Maybe I’ll drink some tea and that will help.

So…I was listening to another podcast of “Stuff you Missed in History Class” and this one was on the history of Vaudeville. Just something to keep my mind entertained as I follow my daughter around to keep her out of danger.

One thing really jumped out at me. Vaudeville, as they explained, was meant to be a clean, family-oriented entertainment. Storng language, such as “son of a gun,” was forbidden. Double entendre and low-brow bodily noise jokes, also a no-go.

Let me say, these rules were not completely followed. But the management of the theaters that held vaudeville acts did try to keep the bar high.

So, they could sneak things in, but the main point of an act had to be clean by the standards of the day. Comedic acts were very common, which is sort of amazing from my perspective today, because if you have no sexual double entendre, and no fart jokes, what have you got?

I will tell you what you’ve got: humor based on stereotypes. Remembery, vaudeville invented minstrelsy–otherwise known as black-face. They had to have a racial stereotype off which to bounce jokes. True, they did not only joke about black people (African-americans). Will Rogers was a “cowboy comedian” in vaudeville, and I’m sure he played up all the stereotypes of the western cowboy. And there were all kinds of ethnic types.

I’m sure that the audience was in many ways educated in what stereotypes they were supposed to hold about various ethnic types.

It seems to me that racial stereotypes were very very fostered by the censors who were trying to create ‘family’ entertainment. I doubt they had any intention of doing so, but I think racial stereotypes took root in our culture in a way they would not have without these restrictions.

..other than the obvious, what would you do? The obvious being saying goodbye to loved ones.

That was the question at Toastmasters and it really sunk in. I am lucky enough to have more than two months to live…

or at least THINK that I have more than two months. Who knows these things?

But it sums up the problem of life. We humans are not ants and we know that we die. We know that we have a span of life, and we think about what we want out of it.

The person who responded to the question said he would travel and see everything. He’d run up his credit cards to the max and live it up.

I was thinking the whole time of what I would do, but I couldn’t get past the ‘obvious’. All the people I would want to say goodbye to…

But what is the point of that time? correspondingly, what is the point of life?

If I knew I only had two months to live, perhaps I would try all the drugs that people lose their lives to. What is the deal with heroin, cocaine, meth and crack? If they bring so much delight and the only downside is addiction…Sounds like a pleasant way to spend two months. Maybe…

But what am I on earth for? What do I spend my next two HOURS on, other than the obvious (sleeping, eating, etc.)?

I spend a lot of time on trying to finish projects. Almost all the projects are particular ways of expressing my individuality.

Presidents and other like important people get to talk about their legacy as if it were a weighty responsibility. Well, it’s a responsibility for everyone, you know! I get to think about my legacy too. How would I like to be remembered, or even more relevant, how would I like to to improve the lives of those that come after me?

I can say that I leave a legacy of a child behind. I have propagated the species! And so far, she is a great benefit to the world, if only in that people smile when they see her. On the other hand, having progeny is the legacy of an amoeba. It’s not that distinctive. I would like to leave MORE behind.

I have only 24 hours a day, regardless of how many days I have. So what else would I do with this time?

How do the people that I admire make an impact on the world? They seemed to give a perspective on the world, or find a way of fitting things together that helped people do what they needed to do. In retrospect the pieces all fit together, but I bet while it was happening they didn’t feel so tidy.