I have a crush!

It's been a while. Well, not since I had a crush. But since I had one that was returned. She even instigated it... nice.

I meet lots of single parents on iHeartSingleParents.com. I post voluminously there. No, really! I am an artist and spam is my medium. I create word-art. Not particularly good word-art, mind you. But it's certainly voluminous and that counts for something.

I've had several crushes but I stomp 'em out ruthlessly and none of 'em have ever felt returned. Mostly I just avoid women that I find attractive (not speaking about faces & bodies here) unless they live far away from Portland. That's a whole 'nother topic: Scott's avoidance of romance is deserving of many many words.

But a week or so back I met a single mom whose husband passed away unexpectedly from a heart attack, not too many months back. Hm, I worry that I'm giving the wrong impression here since the subject of this post reveals too much. I didn't horn in on the grieving widow in order to seduce her in her time of vulnerability. I ain't a Wedding Crasher kind of guy. I was just stricken by how sad and miserable the poor lady was, so I started chatting with her.

I've come to discover that beneath the confusion and grief lies a witty, funny, charming lady. That's cool; I figured she was in there and I hoped to meet her. Again, not with an eye for romance. I promised her right off the bat that I could respect her position and I wouldn't be trying to be romantic with her.

And then after a few online conversations she hits me outta the blue with a threat to come visit while she's visiting family in Seattle. I'm a little ticked off, in fact: I was the perfect gentleman and I structured the whole friendship around being pals without any romantic overtones. Who the heck is she to come toss that whole plan into the blender with nothing more than a "I'm conflicted and confused, sorry, but don't run away."

A messer-upper, that's who!

Anyway, she not only flirted with me, but then she made the outrageous accusation that I was responding in kind. I'm not one to take such things lying down, so I sat up and defended my honor. We're writing long emails each day. It's delightful. I can't even remember the giddy-happy feelings of having a crush returned and now it's sneaking up on me left and right. I have that secretive smile thing going on.

That's about it, really. I've touched relatively lightly on the "Scott can't pledge his love to anyone so keep that in mind" speech that is an undoubtedly dreadfully ineffective way to woo a damsel. She lives somewhere east of Kansas, so the risk factor of a poorly-advised romance is at least constrained to online pining. Well, other than the aforementioned upcoming potential foray into FaceToFaceLand. I can't believe I'm insinuating libidinous adventures to a nice mom of 2 who's still all torn up about her simply awesome husband's recent death. The Nice Guy club is gonna suspend my membership for sure. *sigh* I can walk lots of little old ladies across the street, though, and win my way back into their good graces.

The consideration of romance is not based in selfishiness, though. At least not entirely. I get the feeling that she wants to feel desired and feminine and ... I dunno. How much of this is just rationalization? Not that I am capable of such. *snort* Goodness, no!

Anyway, I do hope to hang out with her if she gets brave enough to drive down here from Seattle while she's visiting. I hope she brings her kids; I'm falling for them (via her descriptions) with way more relaxation than I'm falling for her. If she wants a kiss or a snuggle, awesome. If not, totally fine. I like her as a pal; that's where the deep value lies. Since she's from Far Away I can afford to indulge in some dreamy fantasies of more than pals; the risk of falling hard is remote. Besides, I'm way smarter and more experienced and healthier than I was when I last risked romance, so this time things will go differently. :)

Honestly, the last time I risked romance I knew full well that we'd fall and I was fine with that. In retrospect I'm extremely glad. My brief and wonderful relationship with Karen was awesome. We're still very close friends when the opportunity arises for that, and I regret almost nothing about dating her. Well, I regret nothing at all about dating her, but I do regret some of the choices I made while doing so.

And if scary new romance is in the cards, I'm not all that worried about it. I'd rather love and be hurt than keep my heart all carefully boxed up where it can't hurt or be hurt. Plus, honestly, I hardly know this poor ladyfriend at all and she hardly knows me, and the flirting isn't a big deal.

Hey, she's wealthy. Maybe she can afford to fly up for weekends now & then. Ooh, and buy me expensive stuff. Fund a trip to Disneyland. All kinds of good stuff. I hadn't even considered the Sugar Mama aspect until just now.

Ugh, just got a phone call from the Nice Guy club. They're sending a Chastisement Officer over right now. I'd better go practice my humble smile.

Controversial Issues

I recently got an email from a very close friend of mine. He was referring to something we talked about a few months ago, wherein I explained my viewpoints about religion, gay marriage, free will, and similar issues.

The recent Proposition 8 controversy sparked him to send me an email about these things. It surprised me; he was quoting websites that are militantly against Proposition 8 as well as websites that villainize the LDS Church heavily. I explained my personal viewpoint on stuff, though it was difficult 'cause it felt like he was making a barrage of comments about "the evil blind Christian fool who hates gays" and I have never felt like he saw me as that before. I got the impression that he had been whipped into a frenzy of angst and vitriol by the predominant liberal viewpoint of the 20-something crowd that forms the bulk of his peer group.

That's all simply background; I don't wanna discuss gay marriage or religion right now. I went through months of intense communication about that, years ago, and it was hard enough then. Right now there's so much hatred being flung about on both sides of the issue that it's something I just want to duck and cover from until the smoke begins to clear.

The part that's discussable is how caught up we get in controversial things.

I have felt the pounding pulse, the tunnel-vision, the flushed face, the hastened speech and the raised voice that accompanies something that I feel very emotional about. I know the power of the chemicals that my body releases when my emotions are tumultuous. It's pretty scary stuff.

But the scary part is what happens when 2 or more people get together and agree about controversial issues. When our viewpoint gets echoed back to us, it's strengthened. Keep it up for a few minutes and we're all convinced that we're right. Keep it up for a few hours and we're all convinced that only a fool could possibly disagree with us. Keep it up for a few days and we're edging into a conviction that the hate-filled idiots who disagree with us ought to be shown a thing or two.

Mob mentality happens with surprising stealth. I've participated in group consciousness activities that horrified me deeply in retrospect. As more people joined the mob, the more I found myself divulging from my own ethical and moral outlooks. I began to accept the mob's morality about things that I would never conceive of legitimizing if it was just me.

In the last 2 years I've reveled in my role as the Secret Spy between left- and right-wing viewpoints. I was raised in a culture that's utterly dominated by conservative religion and I accepted that. I choose to ostracize myself from that society in many ways; I stopped going to church and I grew long hair and I smoked and drank and swore and slept with wimmen. So I got to see how heathens are treated in Utah and it was pretty shocking. I stepped out of the mob and suddenly realized how horrifying the torches and pitchforks looked from an individual's perspective. It was really enlightening.

At the same time, I also knew the mindset of the majority. They weren't rabid haters; they were filled with love and desire to benefit their fellow man. As a body, they meant well and I knew it. And even more surprising was my gradual realization that the religion didn't sponsor the mobbery and hatred that some of them were displaying. It was the culture, formed upon people and their weaknesses and flaws. The religion itself was pretty much spot-on and would never promote judgment of others, hatred of others, or persecution of others. That all gets layered on afterward by the mob brain.

I lived as an outsider for years - not part of the conservatives despite retaining my conviction of that viewpoint's merits. Even though I hung with the rebels I didn't join them in scoffing at the ethics and morals of the conservatives. I tried to uphold those morals and ethics whenever I could manage it, even though living a very different lifestyle than what they promote.

Then I got married and I returned to the conservative mob. But I'd gained some invaluable experience that I firmly believe very few people acquire: a different perspective. I was in a place to play devil's advocate and call out the drawbacks in the mob's approach, as well as the benefits of the heathens' viewpoint. I got a lot of odd looks; nobody knows how to treat a spy who seems to agree with you but also suggests uncomfortable alternative viewpoints.

About 3 years ago I divorced, and allowed that to propel me out of the conservative mob once again. I moved in with good friends who embrace every possible nuance of the liberal mindset. It was awesome and I loved it! I learned so much, and I continue to learn constantly.

My current peer group is almost entirely comprised of extremely liberal folk. I love 'em. Some of them probably think I'm one of them, 'cause I have learned to be cautious in sharing my viewpoints before they're requested. Hence my Secret Spy standing: I hear people venting about the stupid conservative Republican Christians all the time. Since most casual peer groups tend to form around the same political axis, my peers are so used to being surrounded by nearly-identical perspectives that they naturally assume I mirror their beliefs, just like all thinking adults who aren't simply evil. I get to hear the most amazing bashing of my own belief system, frequently. It's pretty cool.

The part that bothers me is identical whether I'm listening to Mormons soliloquize about the evil corruption of closed-minded gay activists, or a queer friend earnestly ranting about the evil oppression by closed-minded Christians. Both mobs dehumanize the "enemy" and assign powerful negative traits to them: stupidity, closed-mindedness, greed, hatred, pride, arrogance, etc. All of these insults are hallmarks of casual but heated political discussions. But the amazing thing is that both mobs are so very similar in core values, and they're so very similar in the way that they mindlessly promote their own enlightened viewpoint while villifying the enemy's closed-minded brainwashing viciousness.

They do, of course, disagree powerfully about core issues. And those issues are extremely important and impactful. But instead of disagreeing respectfully, both mobs seem to find it mandatory to inject deception, assumption, insult, pride, and finally hatred. It's baffling, terrifying and humbling... 'cause even the Secret Spy gets caught up in it all.

I watched Obama foes present half-truths and misconceptions in order to villify McCain. I watched McCain foes do the exact same thing right back. Both sides in controversial issues always seem to be so very dedicated to their opinion that they'll do anything to convince others. It's amazing how almost every single person feels perfectly entitled to to shove their personal opinion down the throat of others, so long as their peers agree with them. There's an overwhelming mob acceptance that the ends justifies the means.

How can so much hate pour forth in the name of love? How can so much judgment take place in the name of accepting differences? How can people who are so powerfully similar see each other as diametrically opposed enemies? I carry deep love for so many people who try so hard to hate the mob comprised of other people that I also love. It's depressing and it fosters pessimism in me. And none of them really get that they're doing it; they listen to stuff like I'm writing here and they say, "Yeah, can you believe how closed-minded the Dems/Reps are for not adopting my viewpoint?"

There's so much effort, time and money spent on conflicting about things by people who agree on the most vitally important core issues. The waste is phenomenal. From Wikipedia: The campaigns for and against Proposition 8 raised $35.8 million and $37.6 million, respectively. Wow. That's a little over $70 million dollars that could've been spent on making our world a better place. Instead we poured it into advertising and campaigning. Only Obama and McCain have spent more than this in American political efforts. I firmly believe that we could resolve things without dumping money into public opinion... but public opinion is how it's done and so that's how we do it. After all, the enemy will win if we don't do it.

I'm reminded of "Take me to your lizard."

I don't really have a summary or a suggestion for improvement. It's really tough to learn to stop thinking as a mob. Especially when the rest of the mob assures you that only the enemy mob is doing things wrong. People can do the most amazingly terrible things as long as other people tell them it's okay.

On the bright side, once separated from the mob people often regain their own minds relatively quickly. But if lots of brainwashing has taken place, whether it's "gays are sinners" or "anti-gays are filled with hate", people can operate on the mob mentality even standing all on their own. At that point they tend to become mob leaders, in fact. *shudder*

I guess I'm venting. People in America, quit hating other Americans so fiercely! Yes, you, the person who's saying, "No doubt, everyone who disagrees with me, quit hating!" Try to seek solutions instead of dehumanizing the enemy. Seek to love and accept others instead of using "you don't love and accept others you fiend!" or "I don't like or understand what you choose!" as justification for hating those whom you accuse of not loving and accepting.

There. I've cussed out everyone, myself included. Now I can let this go and move past it. Whew.

Happiness

I used to think I knew what this word meant. But the older I get the more I think that most of us don't understand very many words at all.

The meaning I used to assign to "happy" can be described with words like fun, exciting, entertaining, new, and fresh. And those are all valid components of happiness. But none of them are required, nor are any of them particularly happy-promoting. Fun doesn't make people happy. It can assist, for sure! Exciting is easy to confuse with happiness... but it's not at all the same thing. Ditto for the rest.

Someone called out a solution to this: use the word "joy". Joy isn't nearly as easily confused with fun/exciting. People generally get the meaning behind "joy" a lot more accurately than they get what I mean when I discuss "happiness".

Enough definitions, faugh. I get so bogged down by those things.

So in my search for lasting happiness I'm gonna examine the things that bring me joy.

First of all is the most obvious and obligatory topic. It's the primary source of joy in my life. It can best be summarized in a single word: Benjamins.

If my kids fail to evoke joy in me it's because I'm seriously out of alignment with the universe. Their eyes, and smiles, and voices, and laughter - these are the colors that decorate the canvas of my life. I can't conceive of life without frequent doses of Benjamin. That'd be like work without pay, or kissing without a girl.

The next most frequent contributor to joy in my life is my friends and family. I love my peeps. Most of them are incredible people. Some aren't so much, but I still love 'em. I love having people I can trust with anything, and I love having people who trust me enough to let me know when I do something that bothers them. I love spending time with my peeps, and talking with them, and sharing my thoughts and ideas, and hearing their thoughts and ideas, and disagreeing and agreeing and discussing. I'm so much more of a people person than I ever was when I was a younger man.

People is also the primary way that Kazum brings joy into my life, by the way. Improving and being healthy and performing are all really cool and fun and exciting, but none of that evokes joy. The trust and love and bonding that grows between us, though... it's a vital source of joy in my life.

The third way that joy enters my life is through my senses... but that's always tied strongly to God for me. If I hear music or see a forest or smell a rose or taste something yummy, it invariably makes me incredibly grateful to my Father for providing all of these neat-o things as well as the senses that inform me of them. And by far the most reliable and accessible source of joy in my entire life has been spirituality and love for God.

I don't know if there's really anything beyond those three routes, for me. A great many other things entertain me or excite me. There are lots of great emotions that come from lots of different activities. But joy is pretty narrowly provided. That's so fascinating to me.

I kissed a girl

I had a spectacular birthday 2 weeks ago. My older two sons came to visit. I performed last night. And, as the Title indicates, I kissed a girl for the first time in 2 years. Sweetness.

It was a pretty normal, boring day up until the evening. Lots of people on iHeart wished me happy birthday. Even though it's an easy thing to do, it still brings warm fuzzy feelings and I appreciate it.

Last night's venue was one I'd performed at before: the Someday Lounge in downtown Portland. It's a bar that's dedicated half of their dance floor to a solid, permanent stage. Best of all, they have ceilings high enough for 2-and-a-half-high stunting. We couldn't basket-toss, but that's okay; only out most showy routines include basket-tosses.

Since Kazum just replaced 2 guys and 1 girl, the only routine that's performance-ready is "All About Love," which is a snappy little number that Uli and I choreographed a few months back. It's just the two of us, which is a little dissapointing, but it's chock-full of stunty fun. The warm-ups were a little scary; they had side-lighting that blinded us on a few of our stunts. But we worked around it and got all ready.

Also, a co-worker came to the show and I was all kinds of excited about that. He's a great guy and I was glad he finally got to see what I do.

So before the show I was outside cooling off after a backstage practice run-through. A girl on a bike noticed me and stopped, asking, "Hey, aren't you a gymnast?" I'm actually not... but what people mean when they ask that is, "Don't you perform flippy-type things?" It turns out that she is friends with a girl who used to be roommates with one of the guys in the group. At a performance a few months back she was really friendly and I think she was hitting on me back then. And it certainly seemed as though she was interested last night. I invited her to the show and put her name on the guest list, and we talked for a bit.

The performance went well in some ways and not so well in others. All of the stunts hit, and they hit sharply. That's awesome! Nobody was hurt - again with the awesome. But my performance felt lackluster. Plus, they didn't announce us... they just told us to start after the 10-minute intermission. Half the audience was outside smoking/talking/cooling off, or at the bar. That's sucky.

Those who saw it offered the appropriate props. I can never tell what percentage of the compliments we get are obligatory and what percentage is genuine.

There were a bunch of stilt-walkers as ambiance, and they were all really cool. One of them was a girl I knew from a few different things in the past - Stephanie. She's my dream-girl. I don't know what quality it is that elevates a girl from "person" to "goddess" in my eyes, but she's got it in spades. She's like 19 years old; I'd never actually participate in anything romantic with her. But she's one of the girls who has the power to stop my speech simply by being present. 'Tis awkward. I mostly avoided her.

Anyway, I went out to the bar to get my free birthday drink - Cap'n Morgan Spiced Rum & Coke, yum. My fan was there (her name is Annabel) and she was all excited to see the show. She was really bummed when she found out we'd performed it. She was outside with many other folk and didn't know it had already finished. :( That's okay; she saw it a few months ago. But still, that's why she was there.

We went outside and talked. She's gorgeous, but in a way that isn't really my thing. Exquisite makeup & hair, adorable outfit, all the stuff that our society demands of us before we can be considered sexy or attractive. But that's all a big red flag that she's not gonna be into me at all; I spend zilch effort on image, and I have no interest in style or fashion or in looking the way our culture indicates I should look.

Still, I was all dandied up in makeup and costume, sweaty from performing, so I figured that's about as good as it gets as far as Scott's Image is concerned. And she seemed to concur; she was almost flat-out hitting on me. She was probably confused about why I wasn't reciprocating... I'm just too shy. *sigh*

Anyway, I taught her how to do a cool stunt (a flag) and she was tickled pink. Then we went back inside and hung out for a while. We ended up being alone together and she was still hitting on me and I finally gathered all my courage together and asked her for a birthday kiss. She was very amenable, and neither of us held anything back. It was awesome. We didn't actually make out... the kiss was only 45 seconds or so. But it was certainly more than a quick peck. She complimented me on my kissing (again with the "how much is obligatory and how much is genuine" question) and I thanked her for the birthday gift and we talked a bit more as we returned to the green room where a wild party was in full swing.

I said my goodbyes (my older boys were waiting at home, along with my sister & her roommates). I thanked Annabel again and hugged her goodbye. The poor girl must be all kinds of confused; I didn't do any of the things I'm obligated to do. I didn't ask for her phone number or email address, for example. She's moving back home to New York in a few weeks... which is a big part of why I didn't bolt immediately. I didn't establish any way to contact her; I'm not looking for an actual fling. Plus, I'm pretty sure she'd find me non-attractive if I wasn't costumed and made-up. I suspect that I'm just not her type, and that's fine by me. A kiss is all I wanted.
Well, I coulda lived through a quickie, but that also includes some extra overhead stuff. So a kiss is probably better.

*sigh* I'll keep telling myself that and maybe I'll buy into it eventually.

My buddy from work (Carl) was my ride home and when we were about halfway there I was flattened by a realization. It still leaves my knees trembly and it turns my belly into a butterfly airstrip. I doubt I can communicate it adequately, but I'll try.

One of my favorite memorized poems is "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allen Poe. The girl I broke my kiss-fasting with was named Annabel. And I utterly failed to recite the poem to her. I am almost certain to never again have that opportunity - to recite a poem to the girl who is named after it. I don't know if she's named after it intentionally of course. I almost made Carl take me back so that I could find her and squirrel her away for a private poetry reading. But my kids were waiting. *sigh*

Anyway, the rest of the night was spent in hilarity and revelry. I played guitar & sang "Always the First to Die" for Carl. (http://www.puremagic.com/~scott/music/always_the_first_to_die.wav - sorry, I know that .wav is a lousy format but I've not bothered to convert it to anything better.) We played Boggle, which we spiced up with much joking and funnery. We decided that Superman can undeniably be described as savey, and my 15-year-old son Jed was clever enough to condense "date-rape" into "dape". Perhaps you had to be there to appreciate the humor in, "Hi, I'm Scott. Have a roofie! Would you like to go out on a dape with me?" But we all laughed in an uproarish manner.

All in all, the evening was pretty much as perfect as it could possibly be without Dutch triplets who were in town for the contortionist lovemaking competition.

Wow, I have a blog

I forgot I had this. Cool.

My single spam-bot reader must be wondering what's up in the Life of Scott. So, I'll post an update.

I kissed a girl on my birthday. That was pretty cool. I already blogged about it elsewhere but I should probably repeat it on this blog site. Update: Posted!

I'm performing gymnastics and stunting with Kazum, a local acrobatic dance group. We have all-new members other than Uli and myself, but despite that we're going strong and really pushing our performance to a new leve. It's so exciting I can't talk too much about it or I'll wet myself.

The boys are healthy and happy. We recently built a Kitty Kastle, but my cats are just too big. Oh, these are new cats... Griffon had to be put down from a shattered hip and Suess lives with Chad & Ashley now. The new kittens are brothers: O'Malley the Alley Cat and the runt of the litter, Abu. I should get a picture of 'em. I should've gotten some pics when they were tiny, crud.

My sister and her husband moved into my apartment complex, and I see 'em all the time. It's lovely.

I'm finally done being celibate and single. Well, I may stick with the celibate thing simply 'cause I am unwilling to let romance & sex eclipse my life again. It's been nice taking 2 years off from single-minded obsession with girls. I feel a lot more healthy than I was 2 years ago.

But I do wanna kiss someone. My birthday kiss was superb but I suspect that there are even more wimmen out there, and from a statistical viewpoint surely one or two of them might find me attractive.

Hm, maybe not. My current hairstyle is more likely to attract a chimpanzee than a human. And my stunning sense of personal style has remained impeccably deficient since it first broke, in grade-school. I keep wanting a girl who doesn't care that I'm a shaggy dork and digs me for what's inside... but honestly, who's ever gonna make it past the ironclad "shun me" image that I wear? Huh? Who?

I've been my typical hyperactive self on my newest online endeavor: iHeartSingleParents.com It's great 'cause I can make lots of friends. There are terrifyingly attractive ladies there, but many of 'em live in nice safe places like Florida and Texas and Michigan. I can befriend women who are far away. It's the local gals that make me feel all skittish.

But being online friends is cool, even with the local girls. And it's not like I'm gonna have to fend off hordes of wimmen or anything; see the shaggy dork conundrum above.

I think I'm gonna use this blog spot and then paste copies to the iHeart blog area. This one is more permanent (in that it's been sitting here collecting virtual dust for years).