call it what you will

Over the holidays, I had a conversation with a friend of mine about the concept of “New Year’s Resolutions.”

It seems as if people need some sort of marker in order for them to bring about changes in their own lives: I am pregnant so I am going to quit smoking; My child was born so I am going to start saving more money; I had a heart attack so I am going to start eating healthier; My New Year’s resolution is to...

What is it about January 1st that makes you want to lose weight? Is it any different than July 7th or March 25th?

I resolved a long time ago to NOT have New Year’s resolutions at all. I am continually striving to make improvements in my own life to become a more balanced individual. I don’t need an event or a day to prompt me to make changes.

Ho, Ho, HO-tto!

Season's greetings from Otto...

'tis the season (the remix)

I had every intention of writing a succinctly stellar blog this holiday season. The ideas were abundant, however finding proper photographic representation to accompany those ideas was problematic.

Inflatables are somewhat illusive creatures. For the most part, they’re only out after dark, which makes them difficult to photograph.

During the day time you will find what I refer to as “inflatables gone wild” strewn across lawns, fences or even rooftops as if they’d been out partying all night long.



The first blog I wrote on this subject was in 2005. I followed it up with another in 2006. Since then, it seems as if inflatable decorations have taken over just about every lawn in South Jersey.

I find entertainment in the randomness. People don’t seem to mind that their inflatables have absolutely no relation at all to one another.

Here is Santa and the Grinch, along with Yo Gabba Gabba...Yo What? Yeah, I had to “google” it...it’s a TV show on Nick Jr.

This lawn presents us with the perfect combination of secular and non-secular...


I've decided that the old school, plastic light up lawn ornaments are superior to inflatables...the deciding factor being that you can totally keep plastic light up baby Jesus out of the nativity until Christmas day...this is just not possibly with the inflatable nativity.

meow!

I am trying to decide what is more disturbing...the fact that someone created this t-shirt...the fact that there are people out there who will purchase it...the fact that there are people out there who will actually wear it.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

I have conceded to the fact that, whether I like it or not, Christmas is going to happen this year.

I fought off the ghost of Christmas past for as long as I could. Last night, the memories began to haunt me. Whether it is “normal” or not, I find myself thinking about last Christmas...where I was, what I was doing and most importantly, who I was with.

It’s no secret that for the past ten months I’ve struggled with the loss of my best friend. The holidays are a time of celebration, but I’d venture to say that for many people, they are also a time of sadness.

No matter how many parties I attend, no matter how much time I spend with family and friends, the feeling of emptiness is still present. The void cannot be filled by gifts, cookies or laughter.

There is a difference between loneliness and being alone.

I came across a quote today, “Your past is just a story. And once you realize this it has no power over you.” Some day, I will arrive at that end. For now, I appreciate those words and the knowledge that it is happening at my own pace.

Sh!t Happens

Sometimes, there’s no other way to put it. Sometimes, there’s no better way to explain it.

I’ve come to this conclusion over the past year while dealing with a fairly significant personal issue. It was the greatest loss I’ve encountered in my life thus far. I sat with it for months; trying to understand it. I was logical. I was irrational. I was emotional. I leaned on family and friends for support. They listened (repeatedly), they offered advice, but the best conclusion I was able to come to, put simply “shit happens.”

People are always looking for reasons why bad things happen to them. They search for explanations, “Everything happens for a reason.” Really? If someone said that to me, I’d be rendered speechless and walk away. That might offer someone temporary comfort. Personally, I’d prefer to hear that sometimes, bad things happen for absolutely no reason at all. Sometimes, shit happens.

“To become a spectator of one's own life is to escape the suffering of life.”

- Oscar Wilde

Thomas Kinkade Sucks

Recently, I spent the weekend at a cabin in New Hampshire. There was an oil painting on one of the cabin walls. It sucked. It sucked so bad that I can only suspect that the artist signed only his first name for that reason.

It got me thinking about Thomas Kinkade and how bad his art sucks. I decided to write a blog about it. I googled “Thomas Kinkade sucks” and found out that I was not alone. In fact, there are many people who dislike him so much that they’ve created websites and message forums to discuss how bad he sucks.

Here are a few of my favorites:

When he paints one of his monstrosities filled with little lit-up cottages, cobblestone paths, lighthouses, spilling gardens, country churches, and other nausea-producing crap, does he step back and think: "Wow. I am Matisse's peer!" or does he think: "Here's another steaming pile that the dumb Parade-magazine reading masses will buy ... Bwa ha ha!"

Here's Thomas drunk with his friends: "My shit's sold at Avon parties man. You know how many people go to those things? I got work in half the homes in America. How many homes does Picasso hang in? I rest my case." He has to think this way or else he will be crushed by his own crapitude.

It sucks a lot. It could suck a basketball through a garden hose; it could suck-start a B-52 in Fairbanks in January. Its suckingness is comparable to that of Precious Moments figurines. But then, what do I know about Art?

Like all great art, that piece is inspired, and brings up feelings in myself I never knew I had. Feelings like, like, I want to throw myself in front of a tarring machine on the freeway, or like, I wish I had never been born, or, like Oedipus, I want to gouge out my own eyes.

on altruism

Most days, I like animals more than people...

There have been times when kindness was extended to me by someone else, merely as a means to an end (to benefit them). There have been times when my kindness has been called into question. When these things happen I begin to question the nature of altruism. I begin to ask myself if altruism really exists.

People have become so jaded that they have a difficult time accepting kind gestures. I might even venture to say that it makes them feel a little uncomfortable. Today, I was the recipient of a very kind gesture. I did not refuse it. I did not call it into question. I simply said “thank you.”

"In spite of everything, I still believe that people really are good at heart"

-Anne Frank