csberry: (cocktails)
Last night it happened again. I showed up at the new college radio station right as my shift was to begin. I had no time to prepare my music. No playlist was provided for me. The board wasn't labeled well at all, the CD/component rack was in disarray with buttons in odd places. The CD rack behind me was in no particular order at all - not only were the CDs just placed willy-nilly, but CDs were all over the place in and outside of their jewelcases. When I found CDs that were at least vaguely familiar, the track listings were either missing or somehow unreadable by me. When I did manage to get some song started, it always ran out or had some technical issue that interrupted my attempt to find the next song.

Such is the template for my most common recurring dream over the past few years. It is very much a bittersweet dream because my shifts at V-91 at Bama (and for the summer I stayed with my parents at Carlisle, PA in which I talked my way into a shift at Dickinson College's student station) are some of my fondest memories and are a cornerstone of personal nostalgia. While aspects of many stations I've visited come and go from my dreams, the basic layout of the board area of the studio is almost always essentially set up like at the V-91 studios in the first half of the 90s (after the station moved out of the closet atop Reese Phifer Hall and into the new studios in the basement).

For some reason last night, instead of riding out the scenario until I got really frustrated and then taking control of the dream to alter it enough for me to escape that treadmill of torture, I focused a lot of attention on trying to problem-solve the scene. I focused on trying to find ways that I could circumvent the traps the dream had set before me. Of course, all of these failed either immediately or as soon as the dream would figure out a follow-up problem to make my solution moot. There were also the times I would get lost in the dream (thinking it was real) where I made oaths to myself to stick around after my shift and organize the CDs. I made plans to work at the station more frequently to do what I could to minimize or avoid these problems at my next shift.

I was talking to JD a little while ago about the dream. While the obvious interpretation is that I'm feeling stressed right now, I've gotta say I hardly see any stress in my life at this moment. Things are going rather swimmingly for me the past few weeks - other than my being a little overzealous with my credit card payment this month causing us to have to live a little lean this week before my next paycheck.
csberry: (DonnaOMG)
I really can't wait for someone to come up with a way to store and replay dreams. Last night I had a humdinger.

At some point overnight, I ended up hanging out with my subconscious's version of Fiona Apple. It was similar to when reporters spend a few days of hanging out with their subjects, but I didn't take notes or record any of it. We were on a large university campus talking. I did typical interview conversations, but it became more and more friendly as the dream went along. The Fiona in my dreams exemplified the overly-emotional artist that puts their feelings into their art and then have to deal with the public's opinions of those emotions and the celebrity of that artist. As we moved about campus, there were times where we may have caught some folks' eyes and there were times we were swamped with people. I got to see this interaction of the public with the artist as celebrity and the human aspect of dealing with celebrity.

One part of the dream has really stuck with me. At one point we ended up in a salon. The women there started out really sweet and talking about how Fiona's lyrics really touched them. The longer we were there, the more crowded the salon became. The people that interacted with Fiona went from respectful and deeply touched to a frenzy of superficial fandom. Fiona was in a babydoll dress and agreed to let some of the women take pictures of her. We had been sitting on the floor, so she just crouched there and allowed pictures to be taken. As flashes went off, the demands of the ladies grow more demanding and louder. Women were shouting directions on how they wanted her to pose. I just looked in Fiona's eyes and saw a sadness and desperation that crushed me. Things built up with women finally starting to yell that Fiona wasn't posing edgy enough and demanding that she do something outrageous. It is at this point that we all notice that Fiona started to pee. For much of the crowd, this was a joyous act of rebellion that matched their demands for her to do something edgy. However, as I looked at her, I only saw a woman paralyzed by demands and the peeing was NOT what she wanted to do, her body just essentially let loose from the stress. She feigned a smirk and left. I gave her some time alone and found her a little while later. The remainder of the dream was more low-key, but our conversations became more intimate despite my backing off on the intimacy of the questions I asked. I awoke with the "chorus" from Fiona's latest single going in a loop in my head - "I just wanna feel everything."
csberry: (Default)
Whether we're talking national politics or inter-personal relationships, I do worry quite a bit about how fractured we can be on various scales of "society" when it comes to voicing and supporting our choices/opinions and the effort we place on understanding others' choices/opinions. That is a big enough concern, let alone going the next step of actually taking the time and effort to compromise and come to some sort of agreement on things. It is so easy (and lazy) to isolate ourselves in our own world where we surround ourselves only by like-minded people. Is it within our collective ability to think outside of our own opinions and put forth the brainpower and communication necessary to find common points and overcome the differences so we can get along together?

I just keep noticing so many instances lately where those that disagree or dislike something instantly choose the isolating or aggressive (reporting to police, personal attacking, PR/political ploys) option in a situation rather than working with the person of a differing stance to come to a mutual agreement or understanding. I'm tired of seeing people paint those that disagree with them as evil or stupid. I can tolerate people of opposing positions a lot better than I can people that are intolerable.
csberry: (What The Joel)
For the first time in YEARS I picked up some hitchhikers today. I was leaving the scout shop this afternoon when some boys walking from the natatorium flagged me down (I'd guess they were 13-15 years old). The one doing the talking was wearing a red shirt with a design over one breast. I didn't get a close look, but I was easily able to discern "Boy Scout" and a fleur-de-lis. He was asking for me to give them a ride to the Big A gas station/convenience store a few blocks away. It wasn't out of my way and the boy WAS wearing a Boy Scout t-shirt, so why not?

After the three of them piled into my Jeep, I cranked up the A/C and went on our way. As we were going through Braham Spring Park, the one in the red shirt asked if I would buy something. I explained that I'm a bit hard of hearing and asked that he repeat it (though the primary reason for my not understanding him was his accent). On the second listen, all I could discern was that he wanted me to buy the three of them something with "Black" at the end of the name. Still uncertain what the hell he was actually wanting but knowing there was no way I was going to buy them anything, I went ahead and said, "No, I'm just giving y'all a ride to the store."

As we pull into the gas station, the boy in the red shirt asked me if I was married. "Yes," I replied...trying to figure out where the hell that question came from (keep in mind, they had to move one childseat into the back and were squeezed because Harper's seat behind me wasn't removed). I then added, "Yes, I'm married with three kids." "Oh," the two in the back seat replied. As the red-shirted boy got out of the car, he stopped and looked back at me.

"Why are your toes purple?"
"My wife painted them for me while we were on vacation recently."
"So, you're not gay?"
"Oh, okay, I thought you might be gay."

It was during this exchange that I got a closer look at his shirt. He was wearing one of the red casual shirts for my troop, Troop 364. I don't know how he got it or why he was wearing it (as that he isn't a member of our troop and we haven't had any African-American kids in the troop in a long while), but I left the situation realizing that one of the key reasons I was willing to give the three teenagers a ride wasn't valid.

While I'd probably do the same thing in the exact same situation, the experience is kinda bugging me and I'm not certain why. If the one boy hadn't been wearing the Boy Scout shirt, I likely wouldn't have taken them for the ride. When examining the race factor, I think I would still reject some redneck boys but would have given them a ride if one of them had a scout shirt. Regardless, any "what ifs" in this situation are probably more ego-stroking answers instead of legitimate feedback for what my action would really be when faced with the variances.
csberry: (Oh My Joel)
[Error: unknown template qotd]

Now competing with kids for attention.
csberry: (Beard)
(Most recently seen via [livejournal.com profile] cosmosmariner)

1. I cough every time I get out of the shower. Every. Time.

2. I am very anal about organizing the dishwasher. All of the utensils are segregated to certain areas of the silverware basket. I have been known to open a friend's or family member's dishwasher to put away my dish and then dedicate the next several minutes to totally shifting everything around.

3. I can identify city skylines in TV shows, movies, etc. Typically, an establishing shot comes up, I turn to JD, and I tell her, "They're in Cleveland" or where ever.

4. My favorite drink is equal parts Mountain Dew and orange juice.

5. Every time I think about the words "New York City," I think of the old Pace commercials with the cowboys discussing salsa and they discover Brand X is made in...New York City!? Because of this fact, nearly every time I say "New York City," I can't help but do similar inflections.

6. It is rarely possible for me to say something simply and straight forward, such as "The car wouldn't start." I instead will usually say something like "I got in the car, put in the key, and the car was all like 'Grrr...rrr...rrr..ugh! Ooo! I'm dead!" and make a funny face and gestures.

7. I have about 7 different little soda can cozies of various styles and colors. I must confess that I actually take 10 seconds to look at what I'm wearing and pick out a cozie that somehow coordinates with my clothing...even if I'm just bumming in mismatched PJs.
csberry: (Default)
I have kept my old card-style rolodex of all the numbers I collected while in talk radio. Undoubtedly, at least half of the cards are hopelessly outdated. Just before leaving radio, I copied all of my rolodex into a Word file; so I have all the data. I just have a certain nostalgia for this now outdated method for storing and retrieving contact information to couple with my own personal experience with this particular rolodex.

But I'm trying to shed some of my pack rat mentality and getting rid of silly knick-knacks I attempt to keep because of nostalgia is where the process is now. This rolodex isn't something I will likely ever find useful again. Is it worth my stashing it away again on some shelf for me to look at in several years for 5 minutes? I certainly have lots of other radio memorabilia (much of which takes up far less space), so why hang onto this item?

I need to get famous so I have someone or some institution interested in keeping my mementos I don't want to store myself.
csberry: (Skip)
when you make an assumption on the race/ethnicity of the person on the other side of the phone?

I visualize the people I talk to on the phone. Is it "bad" when I use a person's speech (typically accent and word choice) to determine race/ethnicity when picturing the person in my mind?

There was usually a slightly awkward moment while screening phone calls for the show when we were discussing race on the air. I am a firm believer in not repeating callers with the same point. I liked to always have one line still open if I could so that there was an opening for someone with a unique take on a subject. Invariably, there would come a call from someone who wanted to address the race issue and I KNEW from the voice it was a black person. If I had a black person on the phone, I wanted to let Darrell know. We hear enough from white folks, let's get a different take. Unfortunately, there were times where the person never identified themselves as black, but I knew that letting Darrell know he had a black person on the phone would get that call on the air faster. That moment of going, "So, um, are you black?" always made my skin crawl.
csberry: (Default)
Last night at dinner, I was half distracted with feeding Harper. JD was nice enough to fix me a plate and I didn't want to also ask her to fetch my juice from the other room. After getting some small nibbles of the carrot soufflé, I took a fateful bite of chicken breast.

As I chewed, I realized that both my mouth and the chicken were dry. I needed a drink. Then something else happened. I'm not sure what it was - Harper demanding food, one or both boys telling/asking me something, or whatever. But my "solution" to getting that chicken problem resolved was to just swallow the bite.

Bad mistake! The piece of chicken became stuck in my throat.

I tried coughing it up, but it wouldn't move. I was coughing and gasping loudly and headed to the sink in prep for throwing up and/or getting some water to drink. The kids and JD were now starting to freak out. I bent over the sink - half trying to get the chicken out of my throat and half trying to breathe. There was enough mental awareness in me to realize that air was getting through when I wasn't doing strong gasps. JD came up behind me and tried to do the Heimlich, but I didn't expect much since the chicken hadn't completely closed off the throat. I then calmed myself enough that I was able to focus, get some water in my cupped hands, and drank it. The piece of chicken washed down my throat. After a few more coughs and deep breaths, I was okay.

The only thing bothering me now is that I have a HUGE knot in my left shoulder. There is an area about the size of a deflated football that HURTS. I just tried to relax last night in hopes it would melt partially away from light meds and rest, but I woke up with the pain just as strong as it was last night. My #1 job for today is to use heat/cold and the massager to make it possible for me to turn my head without audibly going "OW!" I would like to drive without shouting in pain.

For future reference, if I need JD to give me the Heimlich, I'm going to need to kneel on the ground.
csberry: (Default)
This section is about Gemini males. Of all the astrology stuff I've seen/heard, this is the closest to my personality. I've bolded the stuff that I think is particularly on target to me.

What is typed below is from a book titled Sexual Astrology. )
csberry: (cocktails)
This post was inspired by a comment I recently made to [livejournal.com profile] allenb.

If a person has an LJ account with no Friends or Friends-of, no posts, and no comments made in any journal/community...are they creating drama?

I think so. I think, using LJ logic, that someone creating an account and not doing anything with it STILL creates drama. Merely creating the account is enough overt action to rile people.

Drama would be created by:
1. People who want to use that username but can't
2. People who want to comment to this person and can't
3. People wondering why someone created a journal and isn't using it
4. People who know that person in the Real World and are annoyed or suspicious of that person having an account (are they using it for reading journals and spying?)

What say you, my fellow thinkers?
csberry: (Default)
Some of these are silly. Some of these I have a reason for and others I don't understand myself. Merely in order of how they came to mind...

1. New England: My best guess is that this is the Southerner in me speaking. I can't stand any sports teams from that area. I do have a liking of the whole This Old House crew and New Hampshire's independent streak, but otherwise my knee-jerk reaction is to not like it.

2. Florida: Also ties into my Southern heritage. I don't care that it borders AL and GA, FL IS NOT part of the South. You will only see me cheering for Florida when they are playing a team outside of the SEC.

3. Manly men: I've always been tall with a big frame...yet always was a little effeminate and much more interested in being friends with girls than boys. Teasing and picking fights with me is my primary exposure to "manly" males.

4. "Home cookin'"/Meat & Three: I was raised with a varied international diet. When my mom did prepare meat and veggies, I never cared for it at all. I've suffered through many lunches and dinners at meat&3 and it takes a lot of arm twisting to get me to agree to eating at those places (Cracker Barrel and Blue Plate are purely for breakfast).

5. Email forwards: The first thing I do when I see a fwd'ed email is to either go to Snopes to verify (okay, most of the time it is to document why the fwd is bogus) or roll my eyes and delete.

6. Contemporary country music: I love bluegrass, roots country/americana, and pre-Garth pop country (Kenny, Dolly, Randy Travis). But I don't care for Garth, Tim, Faith, or any of the "hats." I'm not even going to go into Shania.

7. Lowe's Home Improvement: Although I tended to go to Home Depot more often, I gladly went to the Lowe's on S. Parkway after moving into my house. But every single visit involved some sort of customer service complaint, so I stopped going and will now only visit a Lowe's after I've been to Home Depot. I maintained this stance even while my mil worked at the Lowe's in Hampton Cove for a while.

8. The Big 3 in Detroit: The only "American made" car that I've enjoyed driving was my '92 Saturn. It was pure joy for the first 8 years. During that time Saturn was normalized into the GM fold and I could tell the difference at the dealer. Meanwhile, I've loved the imports that JD's had (mucho love for Honda).

9. suburbia/city sprawl: Drive 45 minutes or more to work? Live in a n'hood where the only way you can tell if someone is home is if there's a car in the driveway or garage? Impossible to walk or ride a bike to stores? No. Not for me. That life upsets my stomach. This also feeds into...

10. Los Angeles: This has next to nothing to do with Hollywood and everything to do with the LA attitude, life w/o seasons, earthquakes, city sprawl, and how people who "escaped" to LA see the rest of the country.

11. KMart and WalMart: Dirty stores filled with rude people clamoring for cheap merchandise on sale.

12. Hendrick Motorsports (Jeff Gordon and Jimmy Johnson): While I may still have lukewarm feelings for Little E as he settles into the team this year, fellow NASCAR fans will not see me cheer for Jeff and Jimmy.

13. Microsoft: Whenever I can find a way to do something via another vendor/open source, I do it.

* My definition for "prejudiced" for this post is that these are things that I automatically will side against or avoid without wanting to (externally or internally) debate my feelings/reasons.
csberry: (Default)
Because we never really know each other as well as we think...

In response to this post, I'd like you to ask as many questions as you want...it can be 1 or 100. Anything about which you are curious, anything you feel you ought to know about me. Silly, serious, personal ,anything. Ask away. Trust me, you're more likely to be scared by my reply than I will be of your questions. Go ahead and try!!!

Then copy this to your own journal and see what people don't know about you.

csberry: (Default)
Although my years of watching What Not to Wear (both the original BBC and TLC's version) have tweaked my wardrobe and what I wear, one episode of Chuck had a big impact on me. I wish I could find this scene on YouTube. But it is such a minor scene that doesn't involve any sexual tension between the main characters, so that sort of thing doesn't tend to show up on YT.

Morgan (the best friend/comic relief) has a conversation with another character about looking good. Morgan is told that he needs to become a Tucker. If he just tucked in his shirt, he would look mature, stylish, and manly.

I am slowly becoming a Tucker. Now don't get me wrong, I've always been told that I "clean up nicely." However, my casual wear hasn't changed that much since my freshman year at college when I met Larry. He expanded my flannel style to opening my shirt, wearing a msg t-shirt underneath, and completing with an odd accessory (I prefer hats). This style demands that, at least, the outer shirt is untucked.

I'm 34 and the msg t-shirts are getting a little silly on me. My FIL completely devolved after retiring from the military. Away went the uniforms and in came in silly geek t-shirts. The little bit of fashion critic in my brain has jumped at the times he's chosen to show up at an event wearing a t-shirt that says "There's not place like" or similar. Wearing them around the house or casually with family is fine. Dinner out at a sit-down restaurant - not fine.

So, now, when I find myself getting ready to leave the house, the new required step is to tuck in my shirt. It still feels a bit...stuffy doing this, but I find myself appearing in the mirror how I would like to be seen. Onward I tread, further into my new Tucker Era.
csberry: (Default)
I've been meaning to post the following list for a month or two now but didn't actually start typing it out until the ride to and from the midwife appointment this morning.

Things I Do that Probably Annoy People

1.I am a know-it-all. Although I try to muster up all my diplomatic skills when doing such, I'm going to correct factual errors when I hear/read them. There are friends that used to email me forwards. But after a few replies bursting their bubble on free Starbucks, conspiracy theories, or Photoshopped images, I no longer hear from them.

2.I like pressing bruises. When I see someone with a bruise, I automatically say “Aw, you got a bruise” and extend a finger to press on it. I'm not a sadist. I press all my bruises too and feel disappointed when I don't get a tinge of pain.

3.I tend to sigh audibly when disappointed.

4.I don't speed in residential areas. Going 27-30 MPH is the most you'll get me to go.

5.I do pay attention to details and when you add this trait with #1, my anal side is in full display.

6.Blame Pace. I can't hear someone say “New York City” without me wanting to reply in a shrill cowboy accent, “New York City?!”

7.When I get a bag of M&Ms, I pour them all out and sort them by color.

8.I am not a morning person at all and will tune anything and everything out in the morning until I decide I'm ready to deal with the day.

9.It was a trait I didn't like about my dad that I have slipped into and now appreciate – to the detriment and frustration of my loved ones. I can completely shut everything out. I automatically do this when reading. Someone could come up to me and I won't hear them. It's not that I hear them and ignore them. I shut off anything that isn't my focus and people have to work to gain my attention.

10.All my life, I've averaged a half-hour or more on the toilet each time I have a bowel movement. It was common growing up for the Newsweek to arrive and it promptly disappeared to a bathroom where one of the Berry boys was reading it and would nearly finish it before emerging from the bathroom.

11.I tend to get distracted on tangential tasks when I am on a deadline or should be focused on something else (“Oh, I just gotta do such and such before I or while I am or since I'm going to be going by...”).

12.If I don't like a movie or show, it takes great effort on my part not to ridicule and riff on the offending entertainment – even if someone I love is enjoying it.

13.Although I am a know-it-all, I'm not shy about asking questions (even potentially stupid ones) because I want to ensure that I am completely clear on information.
csberry: (Default)
Yet again, A&J hit me right in the gut with my personal reality...

csberry: (mclargehuge)
I didn't want to crop it, so find one of the best ads for men's clothing EVAR back here! )
I've written before (Hell, one of my first posts in LJ was on this!) about my dreamy nostalgia for the 1970's. This image is what excites and scares me most about my dreams of 70's bachelordom. Becoming an adult in the 90's could have led me into the fate of being the "sensitive, pony-tail guy" from Singles (love the movie & soundtrack) had I not found JD. I don't think I'd be the guy in this picture if I came an adult two decades earlier, but I would have been enamored with that guy. I'd probably be Jack Tripper to this guy's Larry Dallas.
csberry: (Default)

Are there dynamic, charismatic sign language "speakers?" Forget the words...is there a way that someone performing sign language adds character and emotion on the same level that pacing, inflection, and tone alter a listener's perception of a speaker?

Is there a Tony Robbins/MLK Jr./Hitler out there gesturing like crazy and exciting audiences?
csberry: (Default)
Charlemagne vs. Ralph Nader

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Cory Berry

June 2016

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