It pretty much leads the way everywhere. I’m workin’ on it, and in time, mind will once again prevail over matter. At least of the gut variety. But, I digress…
So let’s get down to brass tacks.
Now it isn’t an every day fare, but when I can, my gut leads me to a breakfast of scrambled eggs, made with some scallions, shrooms and bell peppers. Perhaps some cheese. That is a last minute call. And then, to make it all come together just right, it is topped with the ideal condiment for their consumption:
Some of Mr. Heinz’s perfected coulis.
If this was everyday, then for sure I would remain as depicted above. That just won’t work.
I wonder how many know this trilogy the way I remember.
Anakin turned away from good and thought he had found his way in the dark. Perhaps it was ego. Maybe no true sense of self so he enabled others to define him. Myriad reasons I am sure. But upon encountering his son, the seed of doubt was planted. “Is this me?” “Why am I doing this?” “Don’t I have worth?”
At his end, the facade falls away. Anakin is seen for who he truly is. A complete wreck. A lost soul. A father that simply wanted to know his son. So that both could have the life they were destined to live.
In that, Anakin found true joy.
Had they left “A New Hope, The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi”, you would have had something as profound as “The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers and The Return of the King.” Huh. Both stories end upon the return of a Jedi or king. A semblance of divinity. In essence, the restoration of genuine truth.
I guess where I am going with this is that for some reason, we just cannot leave well enough alone these days. They continue to make new renditions ad nauseum, forever diluting the intense honesty of the orginal message. It all gets lost in the process. We all become Darth along the way.
Movies apart, this is where sports has now gone in my estimation.
All show, and no real go. Nevermind the athletes that have trained and sacrificed their entire existence JUST to play. Ah, they will get over it. We know what we are doing.
So what if we turn everything into some political sounding board, add games at the expense of rest to enhance the brand, employ technology to constantly spot mistakes made by officials and make any type of behavior on of off the field of play acceptable provided they get a foul.
Oh, then let kids market themselves to the highest bidder so they can be not a star, but THE star. So what if that impacts the rest of the team. You know, those men and women that busted their asses just to play. Remember them? Oh, they aren’t on a commercial yet. They just keep the whole thing moving in the right direction.
Seems Darth is everywhere.
I used to think of it one way. But I guess I must be wrong. There is “me” in team. Just me. Meat too. But only baloney anymore.
Sorry folks.
So lets go back to a galaxy far away and to Anakin.
Considering the times we live in, there is no sense in answering this prompt with any depth regarding one of the greatest stories shared on a big screen.
This is gonna take a lot of effort for this. Though elements of my kid hood yet remain, actually several now that I think of it, like Elvis, it has left the building.
They – not entirely sure who “they” are, perhaps a potential prompt some day – used to say lots of things to us kids as we were growing up. Allegedly.
A great deal of marketing mumbo jumbo sprinkled in with a lot of the other malarkey that got spread about. Thank goodness phones hung on a wall back then and TV’s had an appendage growing out of the top like My Favorite Martian.
I guess what I really cannot get my head around to this day, is why anyone would unscrew an Oreo to eat it.
There were those that would disassemble the confection to lick the icing off the foundation then consume the bottom followed by the top. Or those that would adhere to disassembly phase one, consume the icing attached to the bottom and then eat the bare top. Or vice versa.
Some might even disassemble, then add an entire Oreo into the center, and then reassemble to consume. I am confident that there were many iterations.
Crumble into a bowl of ice cream, add chocolate syrup and consume. Place into a bowl, pour in milk, allow for some saturation, then consume with spoon. Place into bowl, pour in chocolate milk, then follow same saturation process as discussed. On and on.
My preferred method requires two liquids, never employed together.
First, a shorter wider glass of ice cold milk. Dunk until the cookie is about to split from your fingertips, then quickly transport into your Oreo hole in one fell swoop. By then, you may be able to simply gum it some and swallow. If your timing is off, and the Oreo pulls a Titantic and sinks to the bottom, all is not lost. Simply chug and pat the glass once you have consumed the last one via your hand, and the sunken treasure will slide into your mouth.
Then once coffee took over, I discovered the same approach worked magnificiently.
Your timing had to change to adapt to the faster saturation time. But it was a whole new flavor. Hills Brothers and Oreos. And of course, those that fell away like the ships before her, could be encouraged to find their way into your taste buds with the last swig of Java.
There are certainly pieces of media, of this world, that may have influenced how I see things. A search in that direction could result in a lengthy and rambling list that has produced some, yet overall, minimal impact upon this stoic. Not today.
Sorry about that Moe, Larry and Curly.
In all honesty, it has been a peace not of this world that has forever changed the way I see things.
Through that revelation, media and all its inherent iterations of this world will never be regarded as before, at least by me. Sure, they can bring some joy and happiness. But of late, and due to their current iterations, they become simply a distraction.
And this is a good thing.
For now I can discern, comprehend and appreciate the origin of genuine, honest and lasting change. Not to be found in a piece of this world.
As you get to know me from these routine assignments and other spontaneous contributions, there has been an ongoing, perhaps noticable transition. Intention is undergoing alteration. A reinforcement of values accompanied by a shift in vocation. A new day finally treasured for once with some hope on the horizon.
We are all authors of our own story.
Mine had become a messterpiece.
But with a pack of legal pads, once of those Sharpie ball point pens and this trusty chrome book, I am in the process of being able to document a rewrite.
The main characters remain, but in a new light. The plot has shifted with the introduction of some new to my story. I am not aware of the acromym for a spiritual, adventure packed romance, fixer upper, comedy. Maybe that is something that needs to be left for Al to figure out. But that is where it seems to be going. Hopefully, many chapters remain.
Just know that a script is not handed over to you at birth to follow because of circumstance, event, disbelief or choices. There is plenty of paper and ink to articulate your story the way you want it to be read. And never write it to appeal to an audience. Live it the way best suited for you and let them seek you out.
There are many out there that need to know that they too can become their own authors of life. And reading your genuine story, with all of the melodrama, history, pain, joy and awakening will prove to them that they can write theirs too.
It may seem otherwise, but we are all connected. We just need to open up and let that truth happen.
Until next time, I will steer clear of ig-pay atin-lay and return to my roots Francais.
...my temporary assignment. 