A peek at the REAL Thumbster

The Power of Words and Egg Nog

Christmas day has come and gone ...back to regular programming on the radio again.

I hope you all had a great Christmas...those that celebrate it that is. For all you Satanists out there...

I guess the spirit of kindness and caring is still strong and well. You're just going to have to try that much harder next year. No rest for the wicked.

So what did I get this year? Ummmm Let's see...an eviction notice...a court summons...a couple more restraining orders. It seems I can never have enough restraining orders...Awwww...It's always nice to be remembered.

Mitchell and I enjoyed our vegetarian turkey dinners at my parent's house again...Yummmmmmmmm...Nothing says Christmas like a plate full of veggies and a salad. Actually...it's not that bad. We had everything except the turkey. I know...I know...the gravy and dressing was in contact with the turkey. Well maybe the peas and potatoes...(potatos?) ...came in contact with the turkey when he was scratching around the farmyard. I'm not going to stop eating cranberries because maybe the farmer took all the turkeys for a day trip to a cranberry bog. I've lead a lifetime as a meateater...it takes a lot of willpower going cold turkey...I mean...no turkey. We're not vegans. I can't give up egg nog yet...I'm not ready for soya nog.

Hanging out here with all these writers...it's slowly dawning on me how powerful words really are. As a painter I don't have much use for words. Painting is totally visual. Sculpting is also visual...but very tactual in the creation of the piece...still no use for words though.

Writing is all about words...duh. Okay...that may not be worthy of a thesis...but I'm only now starting to realize how deeply they can affect some people.

Words can entice lovers apart or together. I remember the first time I learned that. I wanted to be closer with someone...she wasn't in the mood. I said something to her...whatever came naturally and without giving it any forethought. Whatever I said melted all her reluctance away right before my eyes. She went from frigid to eager just like that. I don't have lines that I use. I try and treat people with respect.

I've noticed that almost every female who's journal I've read has posted song lyrics. I find that very interesting. I don't know if it's a difference in how my mind works and their's or if it's only me...but lyrics don't mean as much to me as they seem to mean to them.

Music matters to me. I usually don't care what the singer is singing as long as the song has a great melody...rhythm...a good beat. There are some songs that I can listen to over and over and over. The lyrics make little or no difference.

Songs like...T Rex's Raw Ramp...Areosmith's Dude Looks Like A Lady (I love the Mrs Doubtfire version with Robin Williams)...The Cars' Double Life...Concrete Blonde's Joey...or the Police's I'm So Lonely (I listened to that song maybe 100 times before I noticed the lyrics. My sons must have thought their Dad was a very lonely Dad :) When I listen to them I flow along with them...like I'm in a river or something.)

A few of the songs that I have noticed the lyrics to are...Wonderful...Lukka...Dust In The Wind...Words...and Bright Eyes (which can almost make me cry...even though it's about rabbits).


Some people are very delibrate in what they write...chosing each and every word with care...each phrase with forethought...like I would with colors. Instinctively knowing which shade of words they must use to paint their story with. They impress me.

I showed Derek one of my poems for the first time Christmas Eve. I don't think he was that impressed...he gave me wierd looks afterwards. What guy wants to find out his Dad writes poetry?

Mitchell has read some of my poems and stories while I've used his computer. He's not very impressed either.

Mitchell noticed I got upset recently and said "Don't let it bother you Dad...It's only the internet." But to me...the people that I care about are more than words on a screen who can be deleted with a click of a mouse...never to be thought of again. Maybe it pays to be distant and uncaring. I prefer to follow my heart and trust it to find the words that I need.