It’s the little things that win the trophy, the one only most of us get - the one inscribed “BEST LIFE”. In my case the Pure Giraffe hands them out during a Quasi Formal banquet held anywhere from one second to a billion years after you become the same as you were before you were.
Is it the god or is it the devil that lives in details - the minutia that forms the playdough of our existence into a face that can’t be stolen - does it matter? The following is one of the small things - one of many I will be writing about in the coming weeks - if I feel like it.
I CAN SEE!!
I have been wearing corrective lenses since second grade. I clearly remember complaining to my Mom how I couldn’t read the blackboard from my seat in the back of the class - “it looks like Spanish written backwards.” This was one of my first comparative analogies. I also remember knowing I had not a clue as to what Spanish looked like - but it sounded good. And the Gr00vyLand musical motto is... if it sounds good - Play It.
I was nearsighted - I am still nearsighted But, I do not need my glasses anymore - right now they are outside somewhere in the WouldShed while I am inside in climate controlled comfort. My eyes haven’t changed - My World has, or more accurately what part or at what distance do i need to see clearly has.
I noticed that I was misplacing my visual crutches a lot more than usual and at first blamed it on mr. parkinson. However, through intensive scientific observation I discovered I was removing my glasses during the times that i didn’t need them and not only when I went to bed - this haphazard removal protocol would cause anyone to lose their specks, not just someone like me. And, like me I am.
SIMPLE ANSWER -
The distance in which my life now resides has changed mainly because of the parkinson rally being held in my brain. Because of this rally promoted and attended by 100% dopamine intolerant fachists I choose to NO LonGEr Drive. I no longer need to see clearly in the far. I can see anyone in a small room clearly enough to hold a conversation, if that were indeed something could hold. Let’s say I can see clearly enough to see the pained look on their face as I drop the squirming verbal beast I was trying to hold in my tired, clawed hands. I can see clearly their lips purse those words I am ever so tired of - HUH? WHA? - But I digress.
Since I don’t drive, which in and of itself is delight and a blessing - I am now driven everywhere I can’t walk like a general or the President - since I don’t deal with oncoming traffic anymore and this natural occurring area of acute visual acumen, my new visual “world”, is all I need - All I need to see. So the glasses come off, and I temporarily lose them. Why look though scratched - paint be speckled lenses of cheap plastic when I can peer through clear, washed daily, pure unadulterated windows to my soul? This should make me happy, and it does - to a point - there is one problem. I HÅte the way I look without my glasses- Vanity thy name is Andy. I know this is wrong but I can’t help it. I have grown so accustomed to my face - my smile - my me, as it appears wrapped in semi-stylish, low end European eyewear. I know I shouldn’t care, but I do. I don’t look like myself. But, who do I look like? You tell me. That is not rhetorical - use your commenting feature and tell me.
It’s the little things. It’s the details... that matter. I don’t know if the god or the devil choose to reside there, I only know that if it weren’t for these little things there would be only one big channel on this Cable Company of life. One big channel that wouldn’t carry the Pure Giraffe’s awards banquet. One big channel that wouldn’t even know what you looked like - much less care enough to even care.
just say yes!
meet Andy Ward King, a professional musician and artist until a diagnosis of parkinons dsease at age 49 forced him into an early retirement., he now uses his music, his art along with the whimsical world he has created in this blog as therapy to ( as he puts it ) outsmart his brain and make the daily battles with parkinson’s a little bit easier, to give him that all important reason to get up on the morning, to make his life worth living. Andy has learned how to say NO to gving up \ NO to depression and apathy \ NO to following willingly the road of decline that stretches before him. he learned that to say no to all of these things all one has to do is say yes. Andy has learned to just say YES to life/\\