On the subject of "Turning on the Faucet"

Sometimes I write just to write. Many times, it's to get something off my mind.

Yesterday, in the midst of working, I told my co-worker how absolutely infuriated I was getting about the hype being given the "outbreak" of the swine flu in the media.

There are so many stories worth telling that to see the first 11 minutes of a newscast dedicated to the Swine Flu and how you are going to get it sickened me. Yes, I meant the pun.

So, in the spirit of a previous blog entry, I decided to create the Whine Flu Pandemic Central. I planted all the seeds with links about whining and such. I even took some clipart and gave it the logo treatment. Then I put out the all out effort to recruit people to "Become a Fan"

Line by line, word by word, I used humor to get out my anger at the overreaction of society to something that really does not need that much attention. And oh, by the way, did you happen to notice it's sweeps for television... that lovely time where news operations bring out the heavy lumber to tell you what you need to know so you have to, I mean HAVE TO tune in to that particular news that night.

I would understand it if there were hundreds of deaths instead of dozens of cases of this sickness throughout the country, but these stories seem to be nothing but scare tactics.

Case in point. Five schools in this area have been shut down for a week because of a "suspected case" of swine flu.

Meanwhile, just one block from my office, a doctor who was also suspected of having swine flu, treated many youngsters, not to mention had contact with parents. If this was so serious, wouldn't that entire clinic be shut down and every one of those kids alerted to inform their schools of the situation so that they could shut down, and all the businesses that this woman went to, including the place I probably had lunch, have signs saying there is a danger here?

Now I guess you might say it would be poetic justice if I caught this thing after having this opinion, but why aren't people mad as hell and not going to take this stuff anymore?

Then, yesterday, I saw a story on HBO about schools eliminating Dodgeball or Musical Chairs or any competition where there are definitive winners and losers, as they say it might hurt the morale of the people who could be excluded or, dare I say, lose.

If that were not enough, there is a school that has banned the game of tag because of the possibility of injury. Their solution, shadow tag, where you tag the person by stepping on their shadow. Oh, we aren't finished there. The school has banned all touching. I mean no touching. That means a pat on the back, a high five, a hug. These have been replaced by the "Air Five" and "Air Hugs."

Where in the hell is society going?

Well, I guess there might be one thing the two subjects I have ranted about have in common. If there was a no touching policy at all schools, the chance of spreading Swine Flu may have gone down exponentially.

I am getting off my soap box... turning off the faucet.

My time is up, I thank you for yours.

Yours truly,
Johnny Blogger

On the subject of Blowing Up

It should probably be said that people should read the next post then come back to this one.

Okay, welcome back.

It has been one of those days, and then, I come home after a pretty dismal day at work. I don't sit down. There's laundry that needs to be done, and there are dishes piled up in the sink.

Feeling irritable, I began thinking that maybe I was just hungry. So, I sit down to have a snack and open up the newspaper to the A&E Section.

Each Sunday. the Seattle Times publishes a Rant and Rave Section. I enjoy reading it to see some of the nice things people do. The rants I usually understand, but sometimes wonder why they felt a need to publish.

THEN, I FOUND OUT I WAS THE SUBJECT OF ONE OF THE RANTS. The request by one of my clients keeps me from sharing what the subject was, but needless to say, it was something trivial beyond belief. I can say this. Someone who works for me made a typo, and someone decided it was harmful enough to take the time to write the newspaper. In doing so, this person questioned my/my employee's ability to do their job.

I can start my own rant here, and I will. I am so sick and tired of people who are so perfect that they expect the rest of the world to be as perfect as they appear to be. They judge people's abilities by the mistakes they made, or overlooked. They do this not realizing the scope of work that is invested into everything that is done in the big picture.

Are the people who write this perfect in everything that they do at work?

Are the people who post anonymously in the paper, or on internet message boards, so courageous that they can slam someone else while hiding behind a keyboard? And by the way, I don't hide behind that keyboard, my name is on the masthead!

I am sick of anyone who has to judge someone on a small mistake in the realm of a much larger picture. Was the mistake made? Yes. Was it about 1/1000th of the entire body of work that takes about 40 hours of work to do? YES!

I loved the rant and rave column because it shows the best in people when it salutes the good deeds they do. I have done some things that I honestly believe would be the subject of the raves. I have been the victim of some of the acts that were like the subject of rants. However, to be called out for a simple mistake on a keyboard - give me a fricking break.

There are parts of me that want to send this entire entry to the rant and rave section as a reply to the judge, jury and grammar executioner. Instead, I am just sharing it with you folks who know me better.

It's just a bad day that got worse, and I felt a need to share it.

Yours truly,
Johnny Blogger

On the subject of Returning (Oh you didn't know I left?)

I have finished pouting, but am not quite finished being healed.

It's been a while since my last post, and your humble writer has decided that life without blogging means one of the following things.

1. I would have to return to therapy where I would be told that I need to start blogging again.

2. You would find me on a street corner stopping traffic for conversation.

3. You would hear me on a radio station on an informercial at 6 AM on a Saturday morning extolling the virtues of a feel good controversial depression therapy drugs and why the FDA won't approve them.

Okay... maybe that last one was a stretch.

Fact is, my friend Little Miss Notetaker got a little deep in her blog today, and it led me to believe that she needed to get something off her chest, and probably felt better after blogging. (Note to her self, I am not really a dog and Adjil is the Walrus... koo koo ka choo.)

Another friend has started a new blog as well to live a better life. Gameplan for Victory he calls it. I haven't been able to read it, but heaven knows, I need some plan for life's small victories.

The last week has been a roller coaster of terrible lows and unbelievable highs. Strangely, this here blog was part of the low pressure system that has been raining on my life for the past week. One of the best parts of my life I am no longer able to share with you in a public forum like here or on Facebook. Seems that someone believed that I was being too open and friendly about my role in one of my projects, that I was politely asked to stop. 

It hurt as you know that I live my life like an open book, that I enjoy having you all read. But like Microsoft has its confidentiality agreements, and those in Hollywood have the same, I will be living under my voluntary one for the foreseeable future.

But other parts of life are still an open book, like my awesome new class for Improv that began last night. I am already feeling the chemistry of the magical 201 class from last spring, and think that this group might have some explosive (in a good way) combinations that are sure to entertain, or at the very least, bring unexpected results.

Case in point, last night. I was doing a scene with one of the soft spoken people in class. The scene was based on him being given two emotions to work between, and I had carte blanche. The scene took the shape of a father and son playing pinball. What might have been a comedic scene turned into a profanity laced drama the likes of which I have never participated in on the stage. Yes, yours truly cussed up a storm in front of the somewhat shocked audience of my peers. Those who know me well will either be giddy that I broke through (thanks, Tony) or shocked that I would do that (thanks, Mom.)

I think opening the faucet to the dirty water of profanityland broke open the doors to sharing my feelings again, much like the "trip to rehab" had done months ago.

While most of you never realized I had left, welcome back to me... and the artist once again known as...

Yours truly,

Johnny Blogger

On the subject of I just don't know

When is something too much?

When does living with guilt outweigh being happy?

When do you give up yourself to make someone else happy?

When do you stand up when you're used to sitting down?

When can you be happy when those around you are not?

When does it feel good to do nothing and not have the feeling you should be doing something?

When can you tell someone to feel better when you feel that they might not want to?

When do questions like these not take up an entire day when it's sunny and 80 and life should be good?

I just don't know.

Yours truly,

Johnny Blogger

On the subject of Getting Mad

I'm ticked.

I am one day away from a romantic weekend getaway. I have no work to do. My wife is pretty much finished with school and without stress.

Meanwhile, I am about to go boom, and why?

I get upset at one thing more than any other. I want people to take responsibility. If you say you are going to do something, you do it. It doesn't matter if you are 9, 19, 29, 39 or 49. Older folks can get a little bit of a pass, as they have earned it. Bottom line, do what you will say you will do.

Part two - if you are not going to do it, do not... may I repeat... DO NOT ask me to make an excuse for you. Take responsibility yourself.

With that long preface, new subject - yet related. I promised myself I would blog on a daily basis, to keep the habit. Every blogger knows the moment when they break the cycle. However, I owe my wife a weekend without the computer, without the cell phone, with just... well, me.

So I'll see you on Sunday.

Until then, good night to you and you and you over there.

Yours truly,

Johnny Blogger