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I picked up the Star Wars Trilogy DVD set yesterday.
In sitting down and watching the marathon documentary Empire of Dreams I was hit with a very poignant message. If you can come up with one really good idea over the course of your lifetime, and you are smart enough to exploit that idea to the best of your ability — you will be set for life.
I got an e-mail yesterday that continues to confuse me. It was titled “OLD ACTORS” and said the following:
When you get older, when you grow up, older people still look old but they won’t look bad to you. You’re just a little punk and your comments show it. Thank God children like you aren’t running everything.
What could it all mean?
Let’s face it — waking up to the radio or an ear-shattering buzzer is not the best way to greet the sun of a new day.
But give me the chance — the real god’s honest chance to be your human alarm clock and you will never want to go back. You will wake up to quiet little gems of wisdom, songs that remind you of your childhood, thoughts about the World around you…and you will throw that Sony Dream Machine cube thingie into the garbage. You will never stop and think, “Why did I throw away my Sony Dream Machine?” because you will not care.
Why? Because I will be your new human alarm clock and all will be good.
First things first: when a guy tells you to paint the fence, you question the guy who’s telling you to paint the fence. This goes for sanding the floor, waxing the car, and standing like a stork on some wood log in the middle of the beach. You question and you question until you get down to the bottom of it all.
These things, I know.
Our brains must be slower than our ability to hear.
How many times have you been holding a conversation with somebody and they something to you and you instinctually say, “What?” as if you didn’t hear what they said, only to have your brain suddenly click in and reveal what the person had already said just as they’re repeating themselves for the second time?
It happens to me on a daily basis and I’ve started to actually wait to say the dreaded “W” word in an attempt to give my brain the extra 3 seconds it needs for the sound that exited my fellow conversationalist’s mouth to enter my ears, travel to my brain, and allow it process so that I may understand the words that are being said to me. It doesn’t make sense to me, though, that my ears can hear something and it takes an extra three seconds for the most advanced organ in my body to register it. What’s up, brain? What’s your problem!?
Words for My Enjoyment is the official blog of writer Paul Davidson. He lives in Los Angeles where, well, the magic happens.
