Reasons For Existence

During 1969, for a few weeks after school, a movie was advertised on television that showed people in gold jumpsuits, jet packs, giant rats and a submarine. Being eight years old at the time, there was nothing I wanted to see more than this. So one night my parents took me to to see it at the drive-in. I only saw it once, but since most of the kids I knew had seen it, we talked about it a lot.

As time went on, and that part of my life became a distant memory, there were certain elements from the movie that I never forgot. Jet packs, fingertip flame throwers, and an operation that put a human brain in and condor wings on a lion. Every time I go by the site the drive-in used to be, I think of this film, even if I forgot the title.

Forty-three years later every visual detail clearly unfolded in my mind when I listened to episode 26 of Slow Robot A Go Go. It seems that many ideas I've drawn on paper seem to have at least some vague root from this movie. Funny how the mind works.

Now I just need to find the DVD, after I thank my parents for taking me to see this without any complaints or eye rolls.

Fourth grade was easily my least favorite year of academic life, but like everything else, there were good things mixed in with the bad.

On the first day the teacher pointed out three prints she hung by the pencil sharpener. I don't remember the other two, but the one in the middle was Picasso's Three Musicians. The teacher didn't say anything after pointing them out. Everything on the walls changed throughout the year, but those three prints never came down.

Even though the piece didn't appeal to my tastes at the time, I would hear odd, distant woodwind music play in my head whenever I looked at it. Everything seemed to turn inside out when trying to figure out exactly where each musician started and ended. It wasn't until I went to college that I realized that I liked it.

Everything came into perspective while visiting The Museum Of Modern Art, seeing the staggering amount of work displayed there and being more exited to see this than anything else.



Even though it is much larger than the small print I saw as a kid, the music still plays at the same volume.

On a movie I watched as a kid, a rocket ship flew through the Lincoln Tunnel. Since the tunnel was mentioned several times and everyone seemed to know what it was, I thought I should too. Asking my parents, they replied with New York City.



Even though I didn't know where it was, you couldn't help but be aware of the place. People always talked about it, showed it in movies and television shows, even King Kong went there.



It was the place where people lived in tall buildings, kids played in parks instead of backyards, and schools and baseball teams were named after streets. Very alien to someone who grew up in the southwest of the United States.



I was always being told how lucky I was to grow up where I did, because New York was made out of concrete and the kids there never got to see trees. After joining the Navy and meeting people from NYC, I learned that was never true. Central Park is full of trees, and Upstate New York has even more.



During 1982, it was hard to believe writers and comedians on Late Night with David Letterman talk about being able to get any kind of food 24 hours a day in New York, while everything closed at 9 pm where I lived. They would even take the camera around the city, pointing out that no matter what you wanted, you could find it in NYC.



Hearing these things all your life still doesn't prepare you from being staggered when you actually see it. Massive, towering buildings that cover Manhattan Island, and an impressive subway system that catacombs underneath it that takes you anywhere you want to go. So many people and so much stuff crammed into one place. When it gets to be too much, you can go into Central Park and get away from it all. Really amazing place.



Even though I was led to believe that New Yorkers were rude and overbearing, I found them to be pretty nice and extremely tolerant. Having a sea of people moving around with little space to maneuver, seems to make them the most compliant people I've ever seen.



One thing I can't get past, is that no matter how many times you hear how much there is to do there, it will always be an understatement. The museums alone are incredible. We got to see The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Museum of Modern Art, and the American Museum of Natural History. When we had to leave the last one, my daughter said "why does this place have to be so awesome? You can spend forever in here." To me, that applied to every one of them. The people there are so lucky to have access to places like that.

But I can't help wondering that if I lived there, would I actually take advantage of what the place has to offer, or just get into a routine of getting off work, going home and watching TV.



It didn't matter where I was living at the time, New York City has always been the other place.

At the end of the nineties I listened to a guy stating that his new computer had all the space he would ever need. Asking how much, he replied with 8 gigs. At the time, it did seem astounding, but I couldn't help thinking it wouldn't be like that for long.

The reason why was at the end of the eighties my company bought fifty Macintosh computers and converted to desktop publishing. The consultant stood in front of everyone and said that the work would process faster and less hours would need to be worked. Unfortunately, we ended up paying out a lot more money on equipment and support compared to the conventional process, yet less work was getting done. The hours increased, the system was slow, everything had to built from scratch, and the level of aggravation people went through was the highest I've experienced in my life. At one point I talked to one of the engineers, and after listening to my concerns, he replied with "as technology improves, this will no longer be an issue."

At that point the rate of technological change was pretty constant. You could buy a television set or record player and know that you could use it for at least ten to fifteen years. Even the format changes like eight track, to cassette, to compact disc took a while to occur. So this answer seemed like a cop out to me.

But as we progressed into the nineties I watched computer hard drives go from 40 mb to 100 mb, then 500 mb, and the gb came in to being before the decade was over. Along with DVD, mp3 players, zip disks and flash drives. System software got stronger and more versatile (and took up more space) applications were more sophisticated with every upgrade, and it is now at the point were things are almost obsolete as soon as you purchase it.

So, it did seem like a cop out at the time, but it ended up being true.

 
I tried to write about it, but this guy says it better. So does this one. Or you can listen to Dave Gibbons and Gary Leach discuss it here.

One day in 1984, my brother and I went to see 2010 while it was showing at the theater. Sitting there waiting for the film to start, we talked about an article I read where Tom Petty punched his fist through a wall during the mixing of Southern Accents. The article went on to say that he may not be able to play the guitar again.

Now the actual 2010 just passed a little over an hour ago, Tom Petty continued to play guitar, and we still haven't gone anywhere close to Jupiter.

Go figure.

"I will tell you something else, King, which may be a surprise for you. It will not happen for hundreds of years, but both of us are to come back. Do you know what is going to be written on your tombstone? Hic jacet Arthurus Rex quondam Rexque futurus. Do you remember your Latin? It means, the once and future king."

"I am to come back as well as you?"

"Some say from the vale of Avilion."

The King thought about it in silence. It was full night outside, and there was stillness in the bright pavilion. The sentries, moving on the grass, could not be heard. "I wonder," he said at last, "whether they will remember about our Table?" Merlyn did not answer. His head was bowed on the white beard and his hands clasped between his knees. "What sort of people will they be, Merlyn?" cried the young man's voice, unhappily.

The Once And Future King
by T. H. White

Even though it has been thirty years since reading the book, two small things that were said in it have never left my mind. This was one of them, and I never stopped wondering what the people would be like. Would they be survivors of the nuclear holocaust that we always lived in fear of, or some kind of mutants that lost their humanity? For some reason I always imagined people with no hope.

Of course, now I think they must have been talking about all the people I see with their heads down staring at smart phones, not paying any attention to what is going on around them. And I joined those ranks last week when I found myself waiting in a public place, and out of boredom, pulled out the phone and went online. After a couple of minutes I looked up to see people passing by me with a look of distaste.

But King Arthur didn't show up, so it must not have been us that Merlyn was speaking of.

BEWARE,THERE'S A CROSSEYED CYCLOPS IN MY BASEMENT!!! is a blog that, besides having a really good name, is a great place to find old comic books.


As I sat in a meeting that didn't seem to end, my mind wondered, paper was in front of me, and a cross eyed cyclops seemed like a fun thing to draw.


Not being able to work out a singular cross eye, I gave up and made him mad instead.


Later I got my daughter to make a stuffed animal from the finished design. Her finished product turned out somewhat different than what was in my head, but so did mine.

Just like life.

While driving a long distance with my daughter, a song came over the radio that I liked in 1983, but haven't heard much since. As my mind raced back to that point in time, I told her the story of buying the tape on the ship, while out at sea for a month.

I had been in the Navy for about seven months, wishing desperately that I hadn't joined. At the end of that particular sea period, we pulled into San Francisco for Fleet Week. I had never been anywhere that had such a large and influential Asian population. Walking around seeing all the large buildings so close together, I wondered were everyone lived, parked and bought groceries. At the same time, anything you wanted to eat, buy or do was in walking distance. I had never seen any place like it.

Getting to see places like that is why I joined in the first place. But instead of enjoying it, my mind was at home thinking about all the things I wanted to get back to. Fortunately I got over it after that first day, and started moving forward again. San Francisco has remained my favorite place to visit ever since.

And even though I'm sure thats not what U2 intended when they wrote Seconds, it's what I think of.

No one likes to be around a person talking smack, but I have to admit that no one had a bigger mouth than I did four years ago.

As the World Cup qualifiers were underway, I had a circle of friends that would discuss each countries chances. At one point the conversation would always end up with "what country do you think will take it?" and with complete conviction I would say, "United States." After hearing this, a friend from England would laugh, then follow with "but who do you really think will win." And with just as much conviction I would give the same answer.

Which isn't bad, everyone should have faith in the teams representing their country. My friend thought about that and said, "you know, that's what England needs, confidence." Which I followed with "it wouldn't help you guys, you're losers," then went on to say how they were only good at making excuses, and even though England invented the game, Brazil showed the world how to play it. I even bagged on every Columbian I knew for not qualifying. Whenever people would talk about which countries won the cup, and how many times, I would always include the United States. "The U.S. hasn't won the World Cup" would be said, and I would follow with "we're going to win this one."

My vacation started at the beginning of the tournament, and I watched in horror when the Czech Republic stomped all over my team and tossed what was left to the sidelines. It was like the universe was punishing me for how I acted the past year. Even though they played fairly well against Italy, and even moved into the next round, it was like the U.S. Team didn't even show up on the field. Once Italy won the cup (quite well I might add) I delt with my bitter disappointment, and prepared myself for the payback that was going to come my way.

But no one did. Everyone talked about the matches, and how each country played. Like me, everyone expected more from the United States, but they didn't try to wind me up over it. There is a lot of very classy people in the world.

But I'm not one of them. This past year has seen me just as bad as four years ago. I'm beginning to understand why so many people dislike Americans.