FACEBOOK

On another note. I deactivated my FACEBOOK account the other day. Monday to be exact. I can't properly explain how it feels yet. WHY! would I do such a thing you ask. To be honest, it's a bit of a whim really. I know I looked at it too much and I know it was not genuinely enriching my life but also know it was not hurting me and it really was serving me to keep in touch with what was "going on". I just decided one night that I needed to see what life was like without it. This came with some contemplation about eliminating other things in my life that may or may not need to be excised or at the very least exorcised (which I will keep to myself and let you ruminate upon). So FACEBOOK had become something that I simply didn't think I wanted to deal with anymore and now it's gone. Now it's gone and I feel lonely. I feel lonely about not having that endless stream of crap flow in front of my eyes? No, wait now, it was not all crap. I loved seeing what my friends were up to and looking at pictures of cool stuff and finding out about what awesome bands were playing, all of that stuff was great. But somehow, in some way, FACEBOOK was making me feel sad. It was also fueling some sort of negativity that has been in my system for awhile that I simply can not put a finger on (or a face to). I think a lot of that sadness (and possibly the negativity) comes from the disconnection that FACEBOOK allows for. I was not really seeing my friends, I was certainly looking at cool stuff but not in person, and I certainly was not listening to the awesome music/events I knew about from the FACEBOOK. So, while I still felt connected to the things I enjoy, I was really not even connected to them at all. Now that this "feed" is gone I still feel the loss but really don't feel that hungry for it even though it is gone. Empty calories I suppose. 

I understand how important FACEBOOK is now to our culture, I especially see how important it is to a town the size I live in. Musicians, promoters, and organizations have NEVER had this amount of free power to get the word out to the masses. I guess that is a good thing but they still need the eyeballs on the screen in order for it to work. I think FACEBOOK is like a lot like American cheese. For me, American cheese is very useful for a few things (which I will keep to myself and let you ruminate on) but for the most part it is tasteless garbage with no depth or necessity. There are three ways you go with the American cheese/FACEBOOK analogy: 1. I use American cheese on everything. 2. I would not eat American cheese unless I was stitched into a human centipede and the person in front of me ate American cheese. 3. American cheese is OK every once and awhile but I sure wouldn't want to eat that crap all the time. Wow, now I want to do a FACEBOOK/human centipede analogy. 

So here I am FACEBOOKLESS and wondering what I have learned so far. I have learned that Google+ is  a cold and dreary place to come to kick a social media addiction. I have learned that I have a need and desire to "connect" to the world in some way (and we all know what the Buddha said about desire!) other than through screens no matter how great or how small. I have learned that losing distractions generally makes way for more of them. 

You can now find me on twitter at @x_mortician or at Instagram under the same moniker. I will also be setting up a food blog soon where I will regularly illustrate what we are having for dinner that night. To go with that blog I will be doing a regular podcast on Friday nights to showcase what I listened to on Spotify. That show will be called "American Cheese" and will be hosted by Soundcloud (or Basecamp, I can't figure out which one has more subscribers). -X

P.S. OH GREAT! I think my mom is now reading this blog. Hi Mom! Happy reading! Did you get the human centipede reference? You should check it out, it's on netflix! 

looking backward to a new beginning

this picture is ten years older than this post

I have been looking backward a lot lately. I find myself today, thinking on the past and attempting to attach it to my present. A day of reflection I suppose....

So, reflection. The first dead body I ever had to "deal with" was in a quaint little neighborhood in _______, Oregon. I must have been about 19. My mother and I had travelled from ________ to ________ in order to help my uncle take care of his small children while his wife was away. I think that was also the first time my mom and I had ever been on a trip together without my father and brother. It was high summer and very hot. As I write this I am realizing just how long ago this seems. I will be turning 40 in January. 40. I can hardly believe that I can say, "20 years ago..." and not have that place me in grade school. It certainly does not seem like "only yesterday" the day that my uncle's pager went off in his living room to alert him to a death does NOT seem like 20 years ago. The pager beeped, my Uncle made a phone call, and he then turned to me and said, "do you want to go with me?"...my destiny was born at that moment in time.

We arrived in a minivan at a house not unlike any other house. A quiet neighborhood of tree lined streets and sidewalks complete with children riding bicycles and laughing. The two uniformed police officers in the front yard with oxygen tanks and masks changed the mood considerably. My uncle was perplexed, he did not know that there was a fire involved with this death and he told me to wait in the car until he had figured out what was going on. He came back after a brief chat and simply said, "no fire. do you still want to do this?" I just nodded and got out of the car and headed towards the house. When we went through the front door we were immediately greeted by the most incredible odor. I had never even imagined such a smell. In was truly inconceivable. I would smell this fragrance many times in my life from this point on but I will never forget the first time. I really can not describe it properly with words but I suppose it is like cheese and meat and mold all gone incredibly wrong. It has a weight to it, a heaviness about it. Your body immediately understands that something is not right and that it is in your best interest to get the fuck away from it as fast as you can. It is almost genetic in the way it repulses your very core. I loved it. The cops were gagging and freaking out and we had not even gotten to the body yet. After snaking through the living room and through a kitchen with our cot,  (a wheeled contraption not unlike a lightweight hospital bed with a zippered cover ) we finally arrived at a bedroom. That is where it was. I say "it" purposefully. This thing that was in a bed, covered in blanket was not a person, it had become something much less than that. Approximately 300 pounds of human flesh, covered in maggots, flies and grease. It was bloated past the point of having any real distinguishing features and was utterly still despite the fauna that moved frenetically across its girth. At this point one of the police officers gagged and eventually dry heaved his way out of the room. He simply could not take it. I loved that. I however was struck with awe. I had never imagined something so strange. I was reduced to absolute bewildering wonder at the sight of it all. Perfect little bedroom with books on the bedside table. A glass of water, half consumed, waiting patiently. Fly eggs pouring from a nostril.

Suffice to say it was a lot to deal with. What is amazing to look back on now is how pedestrian that has become to me. I am not sure at this point in my life if that is good or bad really. I see that sort of thing all the time now. It no longer has any effect on me other than being work. A job. Get it done and go to lunch.

So, the blog has changed. It will be varied. So what? Life is short and can tend to get ugly fast, savor every second.