Auld Lang Syne

I'm a sentimental sucker, I'll give you that. Which is why it's really strange that I've lost step with pretty much every friend I had before my Cal Baptist days, and many a friend since. Something about my wiring makes it hard to focus on anything that is not right in my vicinity. Right now my family is my life, with one, maybe two concentric circles out from that, and that is the extent of my reality. Well, not really my reality, more what balls I can actively keep juggling. My reality is, I think about all my old friends a lot, especially this time of year, and especially tonight.

Not that I could take them all back in. As I said, my family requires the vast majority of my attention, and I have almost no social life outside of that. And, I'm ok with that. My family SHOULD mean the world to me. From my wife, to my son, to the tiny Walnut on the way (it's a girl!), they are my primary responsibility, and thus should be my primary focus.

But, tonight, I'll be taking some time out to think about my old friends, and all the joy they selflessly gave. I think it would be irresponsible, not to mention a privacy violation, to give their full names. Google does hit this blog pretty regularly, and some people don't want to be on the internet. But, here's some folks I raise a glass to (Martinelli's, of course):
Dr. Tab, the reason I'm alive.
Everyone I basically grew up with at Bonita Street Elementary School.
The tight circle of Jr. High friends today's Political Correctness would never allow us to call "The Fro Bros." (RIP Gabe)
A certain Michelle and Theresa at Carson High School, who were the only people I could even call friends.
Anyone I ever played football with. You guys hit hard and saved me from myself.
The guys who hung out at "The Amp" at San Pedro High School. Especially Sam, Mike, Car and Webster who got my other ticket to see The Cult just because he had a car.
The '89 - '91 Peer Counseling class at same. Especially Staci, Belinda, Margie and Lizzy.
Miss Elizabeth
The 17 Brian's at same. "Sup Brian."
The fine folks at early '90s KHCR radio at LA Harbor College.
The Boys in the band Corona De Espinas, later 3N1.
All of the great guys and gals that could truly be called Cabrillo Beach Locals, as if that was a badge of pride. Especially Mitch, Bird, Rob (who got everyone calling me Kahuna), George Susanna and John (RIP). And all you mooches who stored the 47 (at peak) Surfboards in my garage and asked for free ding repair.
Steve, the Guitar Hero.
Amanda Beth.
Rob the Ummchocalotin.
All the wonderful friends from Cal Baptist.
Pastor Bob.
Temple Heights Baptist Church.
The Fine Gentlemen of Danelectro Guitars.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind ?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne ?
For auld lang syne, my dear, for auld lang syne,
we’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet, for auld lang syne.

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And that's enough for now.

Brian Norwood

Platypi Online: The Platypus Portal

My holidays are over. (Whew)

Christmas, about 1650 years. Chanukah, about 2300 years. Kwanzaa, 1966. Not years, date. About 40 years. I hope those who celebrate Kwanzaa have a truly wonderful season. As for me, I don't think has the depth I am looking for. And for the record, I do have a chanukkiyah (or Chanukah Menorah), but I didn't actually get around to lighting the candles.

Yes, I have been slacking on the posts through out Christmas and the Holiday Season. I'd love to say I have been enjoying my family. But after 4 weeks since Thanksgiving, can anyone really say that? No, really I love my family. The after Christmas period just seems cleansing to me after a whirlwind chaos.

Well, I guess since I wrote last, Saddam Hussein has died. I believe that authority is given to the nation-state to carry out capital punishment. I believe Saddam was evil, and the punishment just. But I don't believe this will do ANYTHING at all to bring closure or healing to Iraq. Sometimes a doctor looks at wound and says "There's nothing I can do". I think the wounds in Iraq are too deep for any medicine, least of all, western medicine.

I think, however, the situation bears some examining held up next to our own history of ethnic oppression. When the oppressed minority rises up, it is not interested in justice. It is interested in revenge, which is quite different. And, of course, the oppressors always feel they have done no wrong, and chafe at the idea of being diminished in anyway. To say that our history handled this tension and release without violence or lingering malevolence is dead wrong. But, I think we have reconciled the evils of inequity better than any culture so far. I think there are lessons in US history for Iraq, if they would look.

More than all this, however, in cases like this I think there is a large disconnect between leadership (government, activists, military or what have you) and the people. I think it's the leadership (those who have power, or those who seek it) of the formerly oppressed that push for revenge, when the guy in the street really wants to just live in peace with relative security. He may or may not hold on to his hatred, but he just wants to live his life. And I think that might be as far as I can safely push that analogy.

On a silly and somewhat amusing note, I had to fix the spelling of Iraq every time I typed it. I typed iRaq, like iPod. What does that say about Apple's branding ability.
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And that's enough for now.

Brian Norwood

Platypi Online: The Platypus Portal

Can any one tell me..... what christmas is all about?

"I can tell you Charlie Brown. Lights please..."
"And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.
And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid.
And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying,
Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."

All other gifts today are secondary to this. May the glory of Christmas surround you today. Peace on earth and good will to men.
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And that's enough for now.

Brian Norwood

Platypi Online: The Platypus Portal

My Favorite Chritmas Songs

Well, that last post was rather unexpected. Here's something a little more light hearted.

So, here's a list of my Top 10 Christmas songs. Some are version specific, some are not.
10. Hark the Herald Angel sings
9. Baby, it's cold outside- Brian Setzer and Ann Margret
8. Have a Holly Jolly Christmas- Burl Ives
7. Do they know it's Christmas?- BandAid
6. Santa Claus is back in town- Elvis Presley
5. Skating-The Vince Guaraldi Trio (A Charlie Brown Christmas)
4. Christmas time is here-The Vince Guaraldi Trio (A Charlie Brown Christmas)
3. The Man with the Bag- The Brian Setzer Orchestra
2. O Holy Night
1. Little Drummer Boy (Any version, but I'm partial to Bing Crosby and Bob Seeger)

I've been talking about crying a bit lately. I'm kind of a softy, I guess. The first time I hear "Drummer Boy" every year will absolutely cause me to break down. I usually schedule a time, but I've had to pull the car over in years past. I think this has something to do with memories of my Grannie, who died when I was still pretty young. Coupled with the wonderful story of offering what you have, and the worth being in the giving and not the gift, it is a moving and "religious" experience every year.
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And that's enough for now.

Brian Norwood

Platypi Online: The Platypus Portal

My Favorite Black Person in the world... (and some how it's STILL about me)

If we were all blind, would Baritones and Altos hate Tenors and Sopranos? Here's where I'm at. Race issues have been in the news around here quiet a bit, and I think it's really every couple of weeks that I wrestle with wether or not I am a racist. I wrestle with it because I have opinions that people tell me are racist, even though I don't see it that way. For example, if I saw someone who looked a lot like Snoop Dogg on the street, I'd try to avoid him. Now, why I think that's ok is because if I saw someone who looked like Colin Powell on the street, I'd be alright. It's simple really; one looks like a thug, one doesn't. Now, I know for a fact, Colin Powell has had enough training to kill me far more efficiently than any Snoop Dogg wannabe ever could. But, to me it's about presentation. Mr. Powell doesn't look like he wants to kill me. And don't get me started on the border. Really.

So, my stupid title for a post, 'My favorite black person in the world' is, my sister. My sister is my sister, and that is that. We share a bond I think is frighteningly like that of twins, though we are about 9 years apart. But for the sake of clarity, the technical term for her relationship to me would be "half-sister" (shudder). We share our adorable, white, euro-mutt mother (I kinda envy people who are just plain "Irish", or "Aboriginal" as opposed to all the hyphens in my description). Anyway, mom is white. My "bio-dad" was a resident alien Mexican, while Charyl's "bio-dad" was a black man. Mom is apparently NOT a racist (she's now been married to the man we call Dad, a full blooded German, forever. Is that a hat trick?), but Grandpa certainly WAS a racist, which is why I (and everyone) was told Charyl was ALSO of mexican decent until she was in High School. He already had a Latin grandson, so why not, right?

Well, this revelation caused me a lot of inner turmoil. Suddenly, I took every racist comment I heard personally. And there was a lot in our family. That someone could hate the absolute wonderful person that my sister is, simply because of her dark skin (and strangely, mine is often darker, much to her dismay) was not only staggeringly stupid, but personally offensive. She's one of the smartest, most gifted and loving people I know. And did I mention she is beautiful? I mean "fashion model" beautiful. "Keep a Big Brother up with a baseball bat at night" beautiful. Still, the inner doubt has me wondering if I use the love of my sister to make myself feel good about my other views. As if I couldn't be a racist because my sister, whom I love, is black.

I grew up with a lot of pre-judged ideas, that I unfortunately had validated by the people around me when I was young. I grew up so near the ghetto that if there was such a thing as a middle class ghetto, I lived in it. I also lived around, and went to school with scores of gang members, who fell into stereotypical categories. I grew to believe (and still believe) while stereotypes are be no means universal, many certainly have some sort of basis in anecdotal fact. I also believe that stereotypes become a self fulfilling prophesy of sorts, as those stereotyped actually conform to the stereotype.

So, I guess I am prejudiced, but is that necessary and sufficient to be called a racist? I think a more valid criticism of me would be to say I am classist. Not that that makes me proud, but I'm trying to be honest here. And my views on immigration and assimilation would make me more of nationalist than a racist. I believe in the melting pot, and I've been told the melting pot is racist.

Something else I grew up with was a blue collar work ethic, which made me willing to work for the things I wanted. I'll be damed if anyone was going to keep me from a college education and a solid middle class existence just because some accident of genetics made me brown! I am NOT a Mexican. I am an American, with all of the rights and privileges associated with that. I think Charyl felt the same way, though I'm not sure.

Now, I've written all this and I'm still riddled with self doubt. I want to believe that I take each person as they are. That skin color is not a factor in my view of people. But can anyone really say that? Aren't we all sort of predisposed to seek out the groups to which we feel we belong? This leaves me in a real bind, as I am an outsider in almost any ethnic situation.

I guess I've written all this because I find myself outraged at all the claims going around in the media these days. That a prank pulled on a black man, who himself is a vicious prankster, is somehow automatically racist. That people want to put a stop to illegal immigration, and because the vast majority of those people come from one place, it is by definition racist. That our very first freedom, in the document called The Bill of RIGHTS, should be suspended because someone in a moment of piss poor judgment, if not out and out stupidity, expresses his anger and frustration in the most derogatory and venomous fashion he could. I just find it all so infuriating. All these activist on TV and Radio...

Wait a minute... I just figured it all out!!! I'm NOT a racist at all. What I hate is bust body ACTIVISTS! Is there a word for that? An activist-ist? And Charyl, you're not my favorite black person in the world. You are simply one of my very favorite people in the world, defying all catagories. Anyway.. now I can sleep.

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And that's enough for now.

Brian Norwood

Platypi Online: The Platypus Portal