Writer's Block: My Secret Identity

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Define "reality". No, wait...
I'm sure that when I grew up my sense of self went through a dizzying array of sub-personalities. I guess we all thirst for ROLES more than anything else. I wanted to be a fighter pilot since the beginning...almost all the way through my High School years. But then what happened to me IN High School...and I no longer felt the System that I would have had to fight for if I enlisted in the military was worth defending. (I didn't think it was worth OVERTHROWING either, which I guess makes me different from others with such alleged bloodlust.) And I also realized I was neither soldier nor killer material.

There's an old Air Force song that goes, "I Wanted Wings/Till I got the damned things..." and that both was and was not my eventual plight.

Except in the stories in which I'm basically playing myself, all my original fictional heroes need to do two things--fly an aircraft of some (cool) sort and play a guitar like a rock star. Not necessarily at the same time, of course (q.v. Basara Nekki in Macross 7!).

FP

PROGRAM NOTE: Amateur Hour will be delayed a while due to maintenance issues at YouTube. I apologize for any inconvenience.

Fifteen Dollars

Fifteen Dollars is the wrong amount of money to have. It is too much to justify avoiding going shopping, and not enough to buy anything immediately useful, other than food.

So I did my usual shopping-without-buying-anything overday. Looked at combo VHS/DVD players at a surplus store; at DVDs and CDs at a Fred's discounter; at magazines at the Mall; at storage boxes and software at Office Max.

I should be getting more money soon, but as I said, they're all chickens I must refuse to count before they hatch.

FP