What I Lost and Want Back

Prism

My childhood mornings seemed so much more pleasant than the adult ones now do. I woke up wide-eyed and ready to explore the world. Bright were the rainbows that reflected on the wood-paneled hallway created by the bright sun hitting the diamond-shaped windows on the front door. My own personal kaleidoscope had me looking deeply into wood grains at an early age. My brother, Jeffrey, sat less than five inches from the television with the sound screaming loudly into my soul. What I remember about that particular moment is how awake I was back then, and how impressions moved me. Something as small as colored light reflected from the sun onto the wall kept me in awe, imprinted in my memory, and conjured up happiness. I haven’t seen the little prisms of inspiration that echoed so loudly in my youth for quite some time, and I want it back.

Electronic Breakfast Table

Breakfast was a symbol of  something pure that products of divorce, such as myself, used as a compass to happiness; a happy family.  While my own family ate wherever they lingered in their solitude and typically only ate together at one table on holidays, there was this ever-present dream of a wholesome family meal; untainted and a ‘what if’ attainability.

The few times we wrestled with sitting down at the table for a family breakfast or dinner, the only thing served was silence or resentment; not much of a variety of tastes.  Instead, we could watch Leave It To Beaver reruns at dinner time and watch the Cleavers, loving and virtuous, communicating and eating a full bird.  I didn’t get to eat a full bird until recently and if you’ve ever seen a full bird during preparation it’s enough to make you wonder if even June Cleaver, America’s most perfect mother, was a deviant.  Looking back, her obsession with kitchen activities and ability to do exceptional card tricks may have just been OCD and a gambling problem.  I guess even the All-American family has their imperfections, but it didn’t keep us from looking up to them and wanting a little slice of Cleaver pie.

We watched the Jetsons and heard the media projections on the future, but it came and went without flying cars and watch computers.  We didn’t experience the Apocalypse in 2000, and I’m pretty sure the one in 2012 is just a ploy to sell more batteries and water.  However, I can’t deny the digital age in front of me and the lack of simplicity all around me.  Why would children ride bikes when there’s an app for that?  What will become of imagination and pretend when it comes from a device?  What will double entendre become but acronyms and symbols like OMG PIG : p  (Oh My God Pretty Intelligent Girl–sticking tongue out) .  I failed in college at learning another language and luckily Ebonics didn’t stick, but I may have to noodle on text language.

I’ve got to finish this blog posting soon though because my iPhone is blowing up, but the point is that the NY Times came out with an article about electronic breakfast tables (my term, not theirs).  It’s a sad reality that my wholesome symbol of family will be as extinct as playing house in a real tree house and not on SIMS.

555

Long tails, Short tails, and assholes…

I’ve created snazzy excel-imported powerpoint charts to show the Long Tails of both front and back catalogue Music Videos, so that business decisions could be made.  It got me thinking about applying the same to my own life–the long tails of both my happiness and sadness catalogue, if you will—just to see how the graph would look. 

   

Off the top of my head, without any statistical method of course, I could probably tell you that sadness may have the longest tail in the line graph.  However, the prior short tails–happiness in this case—have seemingly and most recently turned into a long tail due to age-driven maturity and circumstance-bearing innovation. It could very prove that my happiness (front catalogue), which is of course contingent upon the data range, has caused a shift in the demand curve of sadness (back catalogue).  

 

There must be certain rules to distinguish between like since I have no recollection of my birth, does it start there or does it start with my first happy or sad moment? Starting at birth itself could have it’s own humpty-hump graph on the happiness and sadness of my own birth throughout these highs and lows, or could even be bar graphed within the same chart dependent upon the peaks and valleys of the line graph.  Although, it seems to me to be pretty common sense that within peaks my happiness bar graph of birth would be nearing off the charts, while within the valleys the sadness bars could more or less be something short of killed.  I’m not really in the business of misdiagnosed Bipolar, so I’ll spare myself the Graph of My Birth. 

 

Of course then you have to figure out the distribution of this booger, and I’m a lazy asshole that isn’t going to try and read up on normal distribution and probability distribution for analogy’s sake. Also, factoring in my mood, which isn’t always consistent, there isn’t a great deal of reliability in this experiment. 

 

Blog at WordPress.com.

%d bloggers like this: