Ode to Gravity
[ 5 Comments ] Posted on 03.23.05 in awesomeness, random
Just when you think nothing can look up, things fall down. Perhaps I’m being a bit too cryptic.
Today, as I took a jolly jaunt around the neighborhood with the dog, I got to thinking as each of my feet hit the ground. I thought about lots of stuff, but mostly how thankful I am for gravity’s perfect attendance record.
Sure, you can overlook it as easily as one takes breathing or meiosis for granted. But once you take into consideration the fact that in billions of years, gravity hasn’t taken one sick day, governmental holiday, or weekend in its timeshare in Southern San Bernardino. Gravity doesn’t even go home: it spends day after day cooped up in its little office, ordering in Chinese food on the company’s budget.
And how are we beneficiaries of gravity’s undaunted work ethic? Everything we hold dear, gravity, too, holds near. However, gravity is not so developed as a workaholic tot he point of overbearing dominance upon the surface of the earth. That is, gravity is like a cool babysitter that holds its children close but allows a certain degree of independence. While we are held to the globe like a fly on spherical sticky paper, gravity allows us to lift our feet to move.
For its unceasing respect for the terrestrial responsibility to which it has been ascribed, for the dominant execution of its duty, and for its flexibility that correlates with our human desire for controlled independence, I commend Gravity and owe to her much of my good fortune.
Roper v. Furley
[ 1 Comment ] Posted on 03.22.05 in awesomeness, television
In the seventies, America was posed with a conflict of interests. There was Mister Roper: married to Helen, typically sad, and outrageously whipped. Then there was Mister Furley: single, whimsical, and outfitted with the typical Barney Fife voice cracks and squeals.
This problem arose in the 1970s, but after _Three’s Company_ went off the air and the nation was thrust into the mondo-rad world of the roaring eighties, the public sort of let it go. They had no need to play favorites – the ordeal was over.
But then, after I had lived out a healthy portion of my life, _Three’s Company_ made its way onto the Nick at Nite lineup and into my heart. There was, however, a noticeable rift in character between the two landlords of Jack, Janet, and Chrissy. I knew in my heart that I had to choose between one of them. I had to make the hardest decision of my days up until that point.
Sure, Mr. Roper was funny in the passive, aloof sense. But Don Knotts’ characteristic active comedy contributed to Furley’s character in a way that catches the spirit of humor by the toe and swings it around in the air before slamming it onto the pavement of Slapstick Avenue. Roper’s interaction (or lack thereof) with his wife, though, puts a tally in his column of hilarity; jokes about husbands not wanting to be intimate with their wives are outstandingly funny and, like a fine wine, are even better when aged about thirty years.
Upon culmination of my analysis of these two television giants, I came to the conclusion that these two fellows are like apples and oranges. Their stylistic approach to comedy is determined by their overall characters, which are as different as the comedic environments in which they were taught their trade. Therefore, I cannot compare these two men. I cannot identify one as greater. I cannot, by the same token, name one as inferior.
Thus, I applaud the characters of Mr. Roper and Mr. Furley for developing their characters in ways very different from each other. God bless you both.
Clap on…
[ 3 Comments ] Posted on 12.25.04 in awesomeness, letters
Dear Santa,
You’ve given me some awesome presents in the past. Though I really am not into the whole idea of gift giving at Christmastide, after the fact I am pretty content. This is especially true this year, because this was the year that you gave me the best present ever.
Santa, my good friend, my new Clapper is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given to me. I think it suffices to say that I have been more occupied with it than any other gift you’ve ever given me – even my little red and yellow Flintstones-style car back when I was knee high to a grasshopper. All day today, I have been questioning the amount of light in my room and altering the state of my lamp with two swift and consecutive smacks of my hands.
Originally, I had my doubts. But now you’ve proven yourself to me, Santa, and I believe in you.
Yours,
Casey Peterson