Check imagination at the door.

Back to sounding grumpy, I suppose. The event on Sunday finished early enough that I could catch a movie on TV. Already, I've forgotten what it was called and it's not worth the effort to look it up in the paper. It was an action movie. Hero is wronged, hero meets girl, hero decides to kick butt, and finally, hero gets girl.

Basically, it was a chance to shut off the brain and just absorb some uplifting variation of the above theme. Slightly different people, slightly differing reasons, but in the end, guy wins against bad guys and gets the girl. Except, as I watched it, fresh after shooting a wedding, it wasn't uplifting.

In fact, it was depressing to realize that we have been programmed to need someone of the opposite sex to complete the story. That society reminds us, each and every time, that we need to be a couple, a pair, a duo, or whatever. What would happen if the hero didn't get the girl or vice versa?

I know, I know. If the story doesn't end with the guy getting the girl, it wouldn't be that happy picture book ending. The story wouldn't touch the sensitive side of our heart and soul. After being ingrained so deeply, the story would no longer seem complete.

Consider what society would think of those single heroes: Single and beyond society's norms. Loners skirting the edges of society and shunned by those who belong. Outsiders. Amongst us but somehow not the same.

Perhaps, just perhaps, the story should end that way and force us to wonder. To wonder if there will be a happily ever after. If Prince Charming decided to toss out the glass slipper and hold another ball in the hopes that Cinderella would appear once more.

Imagine then what could happen! If a story ended and allowed each of us to imagine how it should end. Instead of being able to predict after twenty minutes into the story that the same old outcome was pretty much guaranteed. Why check our imagination at the door?

Name Dropping

So, this past weekend, I worked at a wedding in the Rainbow Room. Even as I wrote that, I hesitate to do something as crass as name dropping. Not to mention how hard it is to maintain my anonymity when I give out such details. Anyway, I'm taking a break from working on the pictures I took during the event to consider what it was like, my first opportunity to be at 30 Rockefeller Plaza.

I honestly can't comment much about the public access areas, since I went in through a multiple checkpoint secure truck entrance where I had to show my drivers license more times than I have in the past three years. I had once read some story about New York City having an underground city as extensive as the above ground structures and after driving down a ramp that brought me at least thirty feet below street level, I can believe it. This drive below ground was after a couple of check points with lots of security cameras. I suspect that it would be wiser of me not to detail exactly what I saw and move on to the room itself.

Going to the top of the GE building and seeing Central Park sprawled out below on one side and the Empire State building on the other was an awe inspiring sight. One thing that irks me greatly is that I was too busy to take any pictures of it all. I suspect you might pick up a boyish enthusiasm as I try to give a perspective of what it was like to be nearly seven hundred feet in the air.

Cars were smaller than the width of my thumb at arms length, people nearly indistinguishable as moving blobs of color. Looking down on aerial cranes and other buildings was very cool. I leaned on a railing, almost doubled over to see if I could see some of the streets below the building. (Still a safe distance from the window though, I mean it is seven hundred feet up!) I could see a hint of Times Square from one side of the building. And the restrooms! A room length window that you could look out across the New York skyline. The guys saw the northern side of the building, I suspect the ladies had the better view.

The Rainbow room was a twenty to twenty five foot high room with moving circular dance floor and terraced levels in the corners. (A few words on that moving dance floor: It is slow and jerky and after I stepped off of it, the entire room continued to move as if I had gotten tipsy. Standing at the side of the moving dance floor, I felt the room was moving and the dance floor was standing still!) Centered above the dance floor is a large dome and when standing directly beneath the dome, speaking out loud returned an echo of those spoken words.

I also recalled how little power was available in the room and we had to be careful not to blow a circuit. Another thing that I didn't expect: The staff was courteous and helpful, even to guys on my crew. Which isn't always the case when you enter some catering halls. (This fact alone makes me want to book the place if I ever have an event of my own to celebrate. Are you listening catering hall personnel?)

Well, enough of my comments on someone else's affair. I thoroughly enjoyed it and the food I was served (Chilean sea bass and filet mignon!). And the load wasn't onerous since there is a raised loading dock, which is hardly ever the case. Now, I must get back to work on these pictures!

Lazy and fat

I woke up before dawn this morning and again couldn't return to sleep. Since I was wide awake and slumber would likely elude me again with the concerns that have kept me awake, I decided to take a walk. Yes, a nice brisk walk. In the sub-freezing cold.

I walked a mere half hour and managed two miles before my tired legs declared that this was as far as they were willing to go. Tired after only thirty minutes! As a kid, I used to walk for three or four hours with my grandparents as they went shopping in Chinatown. In high school, I played soccer where I ran non-stop for three or four hours. And then I would go bike riding on local trails for another two or three hours!

With this realization that I've become lazy and fat in comparison to my past, I must resolve to become more active. I think a nice brisk walk every day along with some old exercises from the time when I was active and fit (Oh no! Not suicide drills!) will address this. Now, we shall see if I have the discipline to actually follow through with it.

Perhaps this will get me out of my most recent funk. Who knows? At the very least, I hope to be too tired to stay awake worrying. That would be something.

Things that need sorting through

Yesterday was a very long day. I didn't get home from work until 4 AM. Yet, as I tried to chase sleep, I kept tossing and turning. My mind disturbed by the course of events that happened yesterday. I decided to write about it now since my sleep deprived mind won't let me rest.

A few days ago, a very good friend of mine had asked me to pick up some papers and books from a mutual friend of ours on Saturday morning. That was yesterday. Since I didn't have to head off to work until late afternoon, I agreed to do this. Partly as a favor for my friend and for the opportunity to see this mutual friend.

You see, this mutual friend is a female. In the past few years, I have entertained thoughts of asking her out and the times I have spent with her have been pleasant. More than pleasant, really. However, in the past year, she has become engaged to a guy I can't find any fault with. Following my usual policy, I've stayed away from her to protect my sanity and keep any thoughts I might have had about her far from my mind.

So, the obvious question is why I would look forward to seeing her again despite my policy. Well, when I first met her, I had one of those moments of instant attraction. I actually pulled my good friend aside and asked "Who is she?" This reaction has happened perhaps twice in my life up to now. Besides the physical attraction, she exhibited a quiet, abstracted gentleness that I found appealing. And, I have to add, she is far more intelligent than I am. If I had ever met someone who came closest to meeting what I needed in a lifelong companion and mate, she was it.

And she had become engaged to someone else. Boy can I really pick them or what? This is, I suspect, another one that I somehow let get away from me in the time I've been blogging. While the first one quite upset me, it caught me unaware. I dare not consider what state I'll be in after this one does the same.

Anyway, enough with this aside. I went by her apartment to pick up the papers and such yesterday morning. When she opened the door, I was greeted with a sight that is burned into my mind. Apparently, she had awaken that morning and saw no reason to change out of what she normally slept in. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail. She was wearing a formfitting, navy baby t-shirt and a bright yellow pair of shorts that stopped well short of being decent.

As she smiled and gave me a hug, I stammered my greeting. I was trying very hard not to let my mind wander where the primal part of my mind was screaming for attention. She told me that it had been a long time since we had spoken and insisted that I stay for a while to talk. She then insisted on making me lunch and told me to have a seat on a bar stool in the kitchen. She laughed and observed that this way she could talk to me while she made lunch.

As she went about making something to eat, I tried to keep my mind on the conversation and ignore the clamoring in the back of my head that I should do something. Something that involved holding her in my arms. Perhaps go even further. Though my mind demanded that I do these things, my body remained parked on that stool as I attempted to be light hearted as we conversed.

Another aside: In this re-telling, I suddenly understand too well an observation by a friend from high school that I was a very tightly controlled person. I have never had to grasp my heart by a fist so tightly to not say something that would indicate that I was unhappy that she had found happiness. It is not a pleasant thing to do. Yet as tightly as I controlled my heart and mouth, I could not close my eyes. Perhaps that observation wasn't so on the mark after all.

As I was saying, I sat on the stool talking. She went about making up a caesar salad and last night's grilled chicken. And I watched, all the while hoping that I could retain my composure.

As we ate, we talked some more until I could no longer stay. I reminded her gently that I had to go to work soon. She instantly jumped up and went to get the papers. I can't even do justice with words to the purely physical reaction to her sudden action. I am just glad she didn't see my eyes nearly pop out of my skull. I took the few seconds to compose myself, rose and then followed her to the door. She gave me a quick hug before I put on my jacket and stepped out the door.

As I walked numbly away from her door, I thought to myself that I probably needed a cold shower after that visual barrage. Then, an unwelcome thought came to the fore of my mind. Why did I not have someone like that in my life, whom, at the very sight of, my eyes could devour every moment I spent with them without such guilt? Then despair dripped its icy fingers down on my soul as I walked out into the cold when I realized that I might very well miss out on such an opportunity. The hot tears of frustration started to form at the corners of my eyes and by a force of will, I held them at bay as I drove off to my friend's house.

There, my friend asked me what was wrong, since I seemed so distracted. I told him that it was something I had to sort through in my mind before I could talk about it. If I ever could.