The Tree's Feelings

I once heard someone say, "I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree."

I'll always associate that line with the movie Superman II, much in the same way that I associate "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" with Guns n' Fuckin' Roses.

I don't know that I've ever seen a poem lovely as a tree.  I don't have those kind of numbers.  I couldn't create a pie chart or a bar graph to compare loveliness of poems to trees.  I hope somewhere, someone has done such research.  I'd like to see it.

But it all makes me wonder, if a tree feels lovely.  We're assuming here that loveliness, or beauty, is to be seen and not felt, based on that famous poem by Joyce Kilmer Of The Planet Earth poem.  But how does the tree feel?  Does the tree feel lovely?  Does it feel special?  Is it sad when it's leaves turn colour and descend to the ground in the Autumn, much like I get sad when I realize I don't have as much hair on top of my head anymore?

I am alive and I have feelings.
Trees are alive.
Therefore, they must have feelings too.  Right?

Now, I'm not some hippie vegan activist or anything.  I'm hardly concerned with whether or not the tree's feelings get hurt.  When a stupid dog lifts it's leg to piss on the tree, I'm not upset if the tree thinks to itself, fuck that stupid sonofabitch.

I'm far more curious about what the tree thinks when that happens.  Maybe the tree is passive aggressive and decides that, sure that stupid dog may have gotten me again but I'll show him when I outlive him by a couple hundred years.

a ryan original.

Maybe the tree has self esteem issues.  Have we stopped to consider that the tree has such low self esteem that it wants the dog to piss on it simply to feel some kind of usefulness and affection?  The tree wants to uproot and move to another park, but just can't seem to get itself to leave that dog and it's abusive behaviour.  There are less trees on the planet these days too, so it's not like an emotionally void abused tree has many friends to turn to for a support system.  So many trees are spaced apart so sparsely that they can't even give each other a warm, loving hug.  Aww, gosh, that poor tree.

Okay, we haven't even mentioned potential eating disorders here.  Some of those trees are so frail looking.  So weak. So thin.  Don't you just want to bring it a juicy hamburger or something?  Like, here you go tree, I know times are tough and everything, but you really need to get some meat on them bones of yours.

But there I go, falling into the trap society has placed us all in.  I'm just assuming that the tree's feelings would sad.  Or upset.  Or melancholic.  That's what we're supposed to think.  That's how we're supposed to think.  Think low about yourself.  Keep yourself down.  Don't aim to achieve in a world that is doomed to fail you anyway.  There's not use in even trying.

Just thinking about that gets me kinda sad.

I bet those trees are pretty happy fellas.  Even the ones that are looking old and withered from Father Time.  They know they don't have much time left and that's just fine with them.  They've seen a lot over the years and they can smile about that.  Sure, they never got to kiss the girl, or take that trip to Disneyland, but they're still pleased as punch to have just been here.

So maybe that's the feeling a tree feels the most - being content.  They stay still.  They're grounded.  They wave to say 'hi' on a beautiful day. And they look at all of us humans and think, at least I'm not one of those fucking idiots driving around trying to appease everyone all of the time.

Thanks for reading!
-ryan

As The World Falls Down

The Goblin King

So we're all shocked and saddened by the death of David Bowie.

Some of us more than others, but I think it's fair to say - and I'm not hitting a huge epiphany here because it's likely been said by thousands before me - that Bowie was one of those rare artists that transcended genres, cultures, and appealed to everyone in some way.  Whether it be that one friend of yours who was unhealthily obsessed with Ziggy Stardust through college or how your mother just adored his Christmas duet with Bing Crosby (that was totally my mommy), we all had a little piece of Bowie to hold on to as our own.

For me, and this should come as no surprise, it was all about Labyrinth.

David Bowie, to me, will always be The Goblin King.

I must have seen that movie a good thousand times before I really knew who David Bowie was outside of that twisted maze.  Sure, I'd seen a few videos on Much Music, and the songs that stood out to me were "Modern Love", the remix of "Fame" from the Pretty Woman soundtrack, and his remake of "Dancing In The Street" with Mick Jagger. 

It wasn't until my late teens, when I was working at a summer art camp with kids, that I got any real formal Bowie education.

There's an infamous story of mine and the cute girl, Chelsea, who worked at HMV that isn't really necessary to this fond memory, but it does help. (It's listed at #9 here - http://www.ryanfanclub.com/archive/top11/rfcmilestones.html)
Cute Chelsea, who started emailing me frequently after finding me interesting enough for having my own fan club but not interesting enough to dump her boyfriend and be the first Mrs RFC, ordered in the Labyrinth soundtrack for me when HMV didn't have it.  I was ecstatic.  So much so, that the next day I did an art project with the kids at camp to try and re-create the "Stairs scene" from Labyrinth in 3D our of cardboard, glue, glitter, and Popsicle sticks. 

F-you, it looked pretty awesome when it was done.

Anyway, one of the girls who worked there with me asked if I was a big fan of Escher, who was the inspiration for that scene in the movie. Having not been very cultured yet, I looked at her kind of blankly, and told her I had been on a big Labyrinth kick and wanted to recreate that cool scene.

a bad sketch I did of the Goblin King in 1999

"Oh, so you're big Bowie fan," she responded.  "That's awesome.  So am I!"

I wasn't, remember.  I was really more of a Jon Bon Jovi fan, and certainly a huge Aerosmith fan.  But she was cool, and artsy, and super hot.  So I told her I was totally a big Bowie fan and that I was going to pick up the Labyrinth soundtrack that night. 

When I went to HMV for the soundtrack, I asked Chelsea for some Bowie help to try and impress this girl.  After laughing a little bit at me, she informed me that the girl from work would probably see right through me, and that I should stick to having Prince as my false idol.  I asked about a possible Bowie's Greatest Hits, and she just sighed a little and let me know I wasn't quite ready to be a Bowie fan.

She was right, and I've since never become a huge Bowie fan - though I bet if I did it would have impressed far more cute girls than my posters of Prince and Aerosmith ever did.  That's not to say I don't love Bowie's music.  I'm definitely that guy who bought the "Best of Bowie" collection from 2002 because, "those are the songs I know."

Still, I feel the sadness that my friends who truly loved Bowie's body of work are going through.  I know the day will come when Steven Tyler will die, and I'm sure on that day I will be an emotional wreck.  So I get it.

My favorite Bowie song?  Probably, "Little Wonder" or anything from the Labyrinth soundtrack.

So, good-bye to The Goblin King. 

- ryan

Our Kids Get Away With Shit

The other night we went out for a little family dinner.  Nothing too fancy, mind you, or nothing very chic either.  We had burgers at Kelsey's.  The point, though, is that we weren't at home.  We were out in public.  Among other people.

And Grayson took a big shit at the dinner table.

And then a part of me actually thought to myself, Must be nice.  Why can't I just take a big ol' shit at the dinner table and get away with it?

I mean, he did it right at the table!  Grunted, pushed, and turned his face red as he squeezed out a monster turd.  And we actually encouraged it like it was cute.  "Uh-oh, someone's having a big poopie," we said.  Other people in the restaurant looked over and made cute faces at him when they should've been disgusted by what he was doing.  If I just up and shit myself at the table those old people would have had me arrested.

So I got to thinking about all the crazy shit kids can get away with that us grown-ups can't.

Like, the shitting in public is a pretty obvious one, but what about talking back to people of authority?  Back in the day you wouldn't think twice about smacking a kid for being out of line.  These days, you can't do that though.  Kids today actually have rights, and they don't even pay taxes yet.  They can talk back to their parents or other authority figures and what do they get?  A talking to, a timeout, or maybe their toys are taken away for an hour or so.

If we talked back to our bosses with attitude, or gave police officers a hard time, we'd be fired.  Or shots would be fired. Either way, the outcome wouldn't be so good.

I've seen kids fucking pick their nose and eat it.  EAT IT! They eat it like it was second nature.  Like they were marooned on an island and it was the only thing possibly available to eat.  The wild animals were already hunted, the trees were no longer producing coconuts, so might as well eat some boogers.  Now, let's not kid ourselves here - everyone picks their nose, even adults - but if you even try to put one of those snot balls in your mouth and someone saw you there would only be one possible solution.  Nobody would ever kiss you again.  And yet, we still kiss our children goodnight, even though we've all seen proof that they have, at one time or another, had boogers in their mouths.

And what about those naps?  When I'm tired I can't throw a shit fit full of tears and screaming.  Nope.  Not allowed.  Do I get to have a nap?  No, I get to have a coffee.  Maybe we should start giving kids coffee.

At Ryleigh's bus stop the other day, this kid tripped as he was getting on the bus.  Sure, it hurts a little.  Maybe he scraped his knee, I don't know.  But you'd think that by the way he was crying and screaming and carrying on that his feet had suddenly fallen off or something.   Now that would hurt.  He didn't suck it up like a champ and take his seat on the school bus either.  He cried in the doorway of the bus while his mom coddled him and babied him.  You can imagine what that did to the line up of cars behind the school bus.  You're right - that line of cars didn't get any smaller.  Or more patient.  If that were an adult... if that were me... causing everyone to be late for work or appointments or affairs, someone would have gotten out of their car and punched me in the fucking face.  Then they would have told me to suck it up and take a seat on the goddam bus.

Amid all this rambling I'm still full aware that it's okay to have dessert even if you don't finish your dinner.  That's still okay.  That'll probably never change, no matter the generation, which political party is in power, or which different group of people are being unfairly singled out as terrorists because their clothes are different.

But something really needs to be done about all these kids taking shits at the table.  If they keep that up, how will they ever learn which fork is for the salad and which is for the entree?

- ryan

I'm Spreading This Reese's on Everything

There are really no words to describe the joy that is now filling up inside me, as I attempt to spread this new Reese Spread on... well, just about anything.

It was recommended to me by good friends Wessy-Poo and Monica, and I ran out the next morning to buy it.

The first taste had to simply be off a spoon.  Just on it's own.  Just to see what we were really dealing with here.  Then, I did what the label illustrated - I put it on toast and apple slices.  I gotta admit, if it weren't for those sly instructions I may never have put it on apple slices. Some folks might not like the idea of spreading this glory on something healthy like a piece of fruit, but I figure if it's on the label then it's one of the primary uses.

Next came a celery stick, because when I was a kid I used to put peanut butter and cheese whiz on celery sticks.  This seemed like a natural progression to me.  And it fell in line with the "healthy" exploration that began with the apple slices.   The juncture between healthy and fun came with spreading it on a Sweet N' Salty almond granola bar.  That was damn good.

Then it seemed like a good idea to just spread it on my lips so I would be extra kissable.  Not that I'm not already kissable - I'd like to think that I'm pretty kissable.  I mean, if I weren't me, I'd probably kiss me.  So anyway, I put some on my lips and made the kissy-face at The Lovely Wife.  She didn't make the kissy-face back.  In fact, she made the ever-so-popular what-the-fuck-are-you-doing face, followed by the equally arousing why-am-I-still-married-to-you face.

All plans to spread this Reese on my junk in hopes of some sweet mouth lovin' went out the window.

Back to the food, I decided, and I spread it on a Reese Chocolate Bar.  I should mention that this was my first time ever trying the Reese chocolate bar.  I was very excited for it, but found it lacked the chocolate to peanut butter ratio that the regular peanut butter cups have.  My favorite Reese is the larger sized, two-pack of peanut butter cups. They have more peanut butter in them.  I once tried that 1-pound peanut butter cup and, while it was magical in its own right, I found it was heavy on the chocolate side.

At my recent No Vegans Allowed BBQ, I bought an eight-pack of peanut butter cups and a bunch of us spread this Reese on those.  A couple of us had orgasms.  One of us had two (I'm looking at you Wessy-Poo). 

There are a few other tests I'd like to do, but just haven't gotten around to it yet.  I'd like to use this Reese on baked potatoes, pretzels, and as a marinade for steak.  Ultimately I see myself using this spread for making peanut butter cookies. 

And let's be real, I'll get around to spreading it on my junk at some point.

- ryan

PS - I think I should go on record by saying that spreading any kind of food on your private areas isn't a really good idea.  I'm not talking from personal experience here (unless you count that time an old girlfriend and I decided to experiment with honey, which was a stupid idea for a man with a hairy chest) but more from cautionary common sense.  You don't want your penis or vagina to start attracting ants - especially RED ANTS! - or flies or homeless people looking for any table scraps they can find.  I'm about 95% sure that when the good people at the Reese company developed this tasty spread they had no intention of anyone spreading it on their bodies to make oral sex taste better for their partner.  And if they did think of developing it for sexual reasons, then wow, someone's got a wicked sense of creative imagination, and I'd be half-scared to see their internet browsing history.  So, be safe folks!  Don't attract those red ants!