Near Death Experience Causes Some Introspection

Hola y’all! You don’t know how lucky you are to be hearing from me today! That’s because I had a near death experience Wednesday evening. We had a couple of big storms roll through and they either produced very high damaging winds or a wee little tornado!! The atmospheric scientists haven’t made a final ruling on which yet, but judging from the twisted metal that was once the sign in front of the mall I’m guessing tornado.

There were also a couple of other billboards and signs in front of businesses blown over as well as some telephone poles and other damage to buildings. There were no injuries though, so that’s good. The damage stretches from the post office (less than ONE MILE from me!) to Daylight Donuts to the mall and then to Golden Pawn Shop. That’s a pretty sizable debris field.

Anyway, I didn’t know I had a near death experience at the time. I didn’t even know there had been a tornado. All I knew was that I was sitting here happily listening to some Aisha Tyler’s podcast “Girl on Guy” and watching the Corgi Cam (Yay! Pupp-EEEEEEES!!) when BAM! the lights went out.

I could have sat here and thought about my near death experience I had I known about it, but I was more concerned with my dinner being ruined. I was only about 15 seconds into cooking my minute steak. Luckily my baked potato was done so all was not lost. It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized I could have put the minute steak in the still hot oven to cook it even with the power off. I’m easily distracted and don’t think of things like that until it’s too late.

After I finished my potato I opened the windows so I could get a breeze through the apartment even it wasn’t exactly cool. That’s when my neighbor came home. She immediately got on her cellphone to tell someone there had been a tornado. Then, my upstairs neighbor yelled “did you say tornado?” and they yelled back and forth for a few because walking down the stairs to talk is just too much freaking effort, I guess.

This is when most people would realize they had a near death experience, but not me. I was too focused on the horrible possibility of my two neighbors joining forces. The one next door has a VERY loud voice and a terribly annoyingly bad Newton County, Arkansas twang. The guy upstairs stomps around his apartment, apparently while wearing combat boots, at all hours of the day and night. He runs from room to room and then paces and paces and paces for hours on end.

I call them “Hillbilly and Leadfoot.” Obviously, these two coming together would be a disaster.

The power came back on around 9:30 and I was able to get online and see pictures of the damage and get some information from local news sites. That’s when I realized Matt-Man told me that I had had a near death experience. When he pointed that out I was like “Whoa! Dude, that’s right.” Then Matt-Man mentioned that near death experiences are pretty traumatic and I should take some time to think about how I feel about having one.

So, I started thinking about my life and if I’ve basically wasted it and if I had died Wednesday night how would people react and how long would it take people to even notice I wasn’t there anymore and all that stuff. Then I thought that I can’t die now cause there are still too many of y’all I want to see naked meet in person and hug and hang out with. It was all getting pretty deep for a while, but I suddenly remembered to check and make sure that my ice cream sandwiches didn’t melt during the power outage and after I ate one I had totally lost my train of thought.

Oh well, some other time I guess.

Jayman
Jayman3768@gmail.com
@Jayman_IWS 

May Your New Year Be Colorful

"Time has no divisions to mark its passage, there is never a thunder-storm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year…it is only we mortals who ring bells and fire off pistols." ~Thomas Mann

The words of Mann are true, but…when I read his passage, I wonder about the spirit in which he wrote it.

Is it merely a statement of fact, or is he also mocking human behavior and its attempt to harness time…to take time, and somehow, define it?

I think the latter. Mann is, in all of his stoic, efficient, German manner, correct about the ambiguity and elusiveness of time.

However, “we mortals” have good reason, or at least a reason to mark the New Year with bells and an alcohol induced blaring of trumpets.

New Year’s Day is a time when many people gather to watch football, feast on pork and sauerkraut, and publicly (and foolishly) announce their resolutions for the coming year.

Some people view the day as just another day off from work.

Those same people oft times say that anytime of year is a good time to take stock and better yourself without the confines of a once a year resolution.

I myself, enjoy the festivities surrounding the New Year, but also understand the reasoning of those who eschew the tradition of making once a year promises.

My reason to celebrate, or at least observe the New Year, lies somewhere in between the aforementioned reasons...and it relates to the statement made by Thomas Mann.

I think that between 8 P.M. New Year’s Eve while partying, and 9 A.M. New Year’s Day when one wakes up (or is finally going to bed), time does, in a way, stand still.

As Mann said, “Time has no divisions…”, and during those precious few hours, we are like a broken clock. We are both A.M. and P.M., past and present; preface and postscript.

We can visualize everything we have ever been and ever done, in the often stark, monochromatic brutality of black and white.

We can also see everything that we want to be and want to do, in color…bright colors, colors that sometimes elude our sight because we do not take the time to notice them the other 364 days of the year.

The transition between the old and the new, is but a razor thin balance between Rationalism and Empiricism, between regret and hope…between charcoal drawings and watercolors.

I hope that we can all cut through the drab, dreary, and sometimes painful black and white screen of this world and of our personal prologues, and see the colors that we oft times miss.

My wish for you this New Year is that you use your past experiences as a pencil sketch, and spend 2012 turning that sketch into a painting of bright and wonderful watercolors.

Be safe…Kiss someone you love at midnight…and Happy New Year!!

Cheers!!

e-mail:  neshobadude@yahoo.com

Twitter: @mattmaniws

Next Stop...Self-Actualization

This past year has been a whirlwind tour through the glamour and glitz along the highway of fame one travels while becoming an internet radio and social media icon.

Yes my friends, the flashing luminaries of the paparazzi, the full body bathing from the national spotlight, and the appreciative roaring and laughter of the worldwide audience makes freewheeling down the entertainment superhighway, a pleasurable and exciting road trip, however…

Sometimes, one needs to veer onto the closest exit ramp and come to reintroduce one’s self to…um…one’s self, at a rest stop I call, Motel Introspection.

It’s good to check-in to a room at a motel, where…there’s no one to fix your sheets or fluff your pillows…no room service…no one telling you how awesome you are…

There is only you, where you have been, and…who you have become.

When I relax there, I get back to my roots and in touch with my core being by the only means I know.

Poetry.

For instance, the other night I was thinking about how season one of the IWS radio show was coming to an end and thought:

‘Neath the purple, swirling haze of autumn,

the languid cry of the last cicada

weaves a dirge with an orphaned cricket,

as fields lie barren from stream to thicket.

And so it goes…

And then, I reflected once more and my thoughts turned to the beginning of season two, and pondered:

Like the head of a whore popping up from her latest blow job,

The scarred sun once again rises,

Tempting the dreams and expectations of every man.

But at what cost…at what cost?

My life is a mill wheel, my friends, and the successes I have had, the mistakes I have made, the shattered dreams and brief encounters that lie in pieces upon my soul are the grist that make up the loaf of bread I call, Me.

My stay here at Motel Introspection may be brief or it may be extended, but I know that when I do check-out, I will be a better man.

But at what cost?

Cheers,

Matt-Man

neshobadude@yahoo.com

www.twitter.com/#!/MattManIWS