Matt Said, Jay Said...9373241798

Matt winces...Jay shudders...You see exactly why they are doing that.

Matt:  Wassssssssup!?
Jay:  Aren't we a little old to be answering the phone with, “Wasssssssup?”
Matt:  Oh I don’t know.  I guess. Maybe?  What?
Jay:  I don’t know…say what you want, I’m just feeling  a little…a little…um…
Matt:  A little what?

Jay:  Oh hell…and don’t make fun of me, but I’m beginning to question who I am and where I came from.
Matt:  What?  They don’t teach that in Arkansas?
Jay:  See?  You’re doing it again!!  It’s like--
Matt:  I’m sorry, please continue and I’ll be a most affectionate and attentive listener.

Jay:  Alright then…Don’t you ever wonder how you got to the point in your life at which you are?
Matt:  I try not to, because that is one ugly road map, but yes.
Jay:  And have you ever wondered where you will be in five or ten years.
Matt:  I do, but it usually involves me being buried next to my brothers, so I try to think of other things.
Jay:  I too think of those things.
Matt:  I can tell, and you do it with a Shakespearean cadence in your voice, and it’s hot.
Jay:  Me thanks you.

Matt: Sooooooooo, what should we talk about this Sunday on the show?
Jay:  Don’t you get it man!?  We should talk about our lives and why and how the way they are!!
Matt:  You mean, like open up about ourselves?
Jay:  Yes!!  Talk about our past failures and how we long for future glory.
Matt:  You mean, and do it in an honest sense?
Jay:  Hell Yeah!!  We all have regrets and future hopes that shape our lives.  Let’s lay them out there.

Matt:  That’s like being completely naked in front of a world wide audience.
Jay:  Yes it is.
Matt:  That’s kinda hot.
Jay:  Yes it is.
Matt:  So in order to go full frontal introspection, we should be naked during the show.
Jay:  Yes it is.
Matt:  What?
Jay:  Oh sorry…Yes we should.

Matt:  Sounds good, and maybe Guy Ahnyurdyck and Paul Piatt could weigh in with some introspection!!
Jay:  And Rev. Moneymaker and Bobby Kraft as well.
Matt:  And you know…Schmoop has a very compelling, “how I got to this point in my life” story.
Jay:  From what I know of you…er…I mean, know of her story…it’s not pretty.
Matt:  No…no it’s not.

Jay:  So?  Are you ready to do the, Who Am I and Why Am I Here show on IWS Radio this Sunday?
Matt:  Physically, yes I am.  Emotionally?  It could be very painful.
Jay:  Excellent.  I hope you, or I, or both of us break down.  That would be awesome for ratings.
Matt:  If that happens, as soon as I uncoil from my fetal position, I will thank everyone.
Jay:  We give our bodies.  We give our time.  We give our humor.  This Sunday…we give our souls.

Matt:  I love you.
Jay:  I love you too.
Matt:  Let’s get reaaaaaaaaaady to catharsisiiiiiiiize!!
Jay:  Boooooooo Yah!!

To listen to the IWS Radio Show LIVE tomorrow from Noon-2 PM ET on Blog Talk Radio just click HERE.

And if you’d like to share YOUR life’s road map, victories, and heartaches, you can call-in at 661.244.9852.

History Repeats, but Perspective Doesn't Always Echo

Happy Thursday kidz, or as I am referring to today as, “Old Folks Day at IWS.”

Yep.  I recently had a few thoughts about growing older, and at the ripe old age of 47, growing older type thoughts creep and sneak their way into my mind more often.

The good thing about that is, as I grow older, my aging mind forgets spontaneous thoughts nearly as fast as they come to mind, but these thoughts?

I wrote them down immediately, because as I am getting older, I knew that two minutes from their inception, I would forget them.

You see…

The other day on Twitter, Jayman and I were discussing his twenty something year old neighbors who are constantly partying it up loudly and obnoxiously.

We began to talk about how we in our forties, can’t do that every night any longer.

I told Jayman that, rest assured I can still party just as intensely as they do, but the duration and frequency of my hoopla is far less, and even on my craziest day of partying, involves a nap at some point.

After we briefly talked about that, I began to think about being forty-seven, and not in a bad way… just thinking about how when I was, say, anywhere from the age of sixteen to twenty-one, how differently I thought being the age of forty-seven would be, and vice-versa.

For instance…

Back in my teens, I never knew that at the age of forty-seven, I would spend Saturday mornings as I exited the bathroom, being asked by a woman if I had a good dump.  Never did I ever imagine that I would be asked in serious and quasi-concerned tone if my dump was, “satisfying.”

Worse yet, I never realized that I would respond in graphic detail as to why it was or was not, a satisfying dump, and neither of us thinking it to to be an awkward question nor response.

I remember being sixteen and having wet dreams…Holy Cow.

I’d wake up in the morning going, “Ewwwww, I’m all matted n’shit.”, and then I'd remember that I got that way because I had nocturnal emission sex with the red head in my HS Biology class.  Mmmmmmmm.

I figured by the time I hit the age of forty-seven, the wet dreams would be long over, but noooooo.  Just the other night, I had one, and I was having sex with the person with whom I live.

I was creeped out for a second, but I felt better knowing that I never at the age of sixteen, had a wet dream involving somebody that I lived with.

That would be creepy because growing up, I had six brothers and two sisters, which back then in the Kentucky Derby of Wet Dreams, would have put me having sex with one of my brothers, as a 1-3 favorite.

I don’t like those odds.  Those odds make me wince, especially if it was my brother Vince.  Uuch.

I never realized back then, that at my current age, a good fart would still be funny.  While they can be as noxious as always, they can still make a happy and lyrical noise.

When I was younger, I used to make fun of my dad for taking a ninety-minute nap every Saturday and Sunday, and now?

I need at least some semblance of a nap everyday, even if only for fifteen minutes.

At twenty or so, I was glad that the acne days were over, and then, they still come back even at my age. Some days now, I’ll look in the mirror and say…

“Holy Shit!!  I have face cancer!!”

Turns out to be just a huge pus-filled zit.  Oy!!

I have no point to today’s meanderings, just pointing out that as we glide along our personal timelines, some things change and some things don't, but it’s all fun, even when irritating at times.

I like being forty-seven, and not because forty-seven is my favorite number or anything; it’s because I like being where I am in life, and who I am surrounded by in my life, and knowing that, for good or bad, it will always be interesting, because…

As we experience new things or look back on hold experiences, as we age, our perspective changes, and in a way, that makes even the past seem new again, and I like that.

And better yet, I’ll like that fact differently tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day…

Cheers!!

Matt-Man
mattmaniws@ymail.com
@mattmaniws

Near Death Experience Causes Some Introspection

Hola y’all! You don’t know how lucky you are to be hearing from me today! That’s because I had a near death experience Wednesday evening. We had a couple of big storms roll through and they either produced very high damaging winds or a wee little tornado!! The atmospheric scientists haven’t made a final ruling on which yet, but judging from the twisted metal that was once the sign in front of the mall I’m guessing tornado.

There were also a couple of other billboards and signs in front of businesses blown over as well as some telephone poles and other damage to buildings. There were no injuries though, so that’s good. The damage stretches from the post office (less than ONE MILE from me!) to Daylight Donuts to the mall and then to Golden Pawn Shop. That’s a pretty sizable debris field.

Anyway, I didn’t know I had a near death experience at the time. I didn’t even know there had been a tornado. All I knew was that I was sitting here happily listening to some Aisha Tyler’s podcast “Girl on Guy” and watching the Corgi Cam (Yay! Pupp-EEEEEEES!!) when BAM! the lights went out.

I could have sat here and thought about my near death experience I had I known about it, but I was more concerned with my dinner being ruined. I was only about 15 seconds into cooking my minute steak. Luckily my baked potato was done so all was not lost. It wasn’t until the next morning that I realized I could have put the minute steak in the still hot oven to cook it even with the power off. I’m easily distracted and don’t think of things like that until it’s too late.

After I finished my potato I opened the windows so I could get a breeze through the apartment even it wasn’t exactly cool. That’s when my neighbor came home. She immediately got on her cellphone to tell someone there had been a tornado. Then, my upstairs neighbor yelled “did you say tornado?” and they yelled back and forth for a few because walking down the stairs to talk is just too much freaking effort, I guess.

This is when most people would realize they had a near death experience, but not me. I was too focused on the horrible possibility of my two neighbors joining forces. The one next door has a VERY loud voice and a terribly annoyingly bad Newton County, Arkansas twang. The guy upstairs stomps around his apartment, apparently while wearing combat boots, at all hours of the day and night. He runs from room to room and then paces and paces and paces for hours on end.

I call them “Hillbilly and Leadfoot.” Obviously, these two coming together would be a disaster.

The power came back on around 9:30 and I was able to get online and see pictures of the damage and get some information from local news sites. That’s when I realized Matt-Man told me that I had had a near death experience. When he pointed that out I was like “Whoa! Dude, that’s right.” Then Matt-Man mentioned that near death experiences are pretty traumatic and I should take some time to think about how I feel about having one.

So, I started thinking about my life and if I’ve basically wasted it and if I had died Wednesday night how would people react and how long would it take people to even notice I wasn’t there anymore and all that stuff. Then I thought that I can’t die now cause there are still too many of y’all I want to see naked meet in person and hug and hang out with. It was all getting pretty deep for a while, but I suddenly remembered to check and make sure that my ice cream sandwiches didn’t melt during the power outage and after I ate one I had totally lost my train of thought.

Oh well, some other time I guess.

Jayman
Jayman3768@gmail.com
@Jayman_IWS 

May Your New Year Be Colorful

"Time has no divisions to mark its passage, there is never a thunder-storm or blare of trumpets to announce the beginning of a new month or year…it is only we mortals who ring bells and fire off pistols." ~Thomas Mann

The words of Mann are true, but…when I read his passage, I wonder about the spirit in which he wrote it.

Is it merely a statement of fact, or is he also mocking human behavior and its attempt to harness time…to take time, and somehow, define it?

I think the latter. Mann is, in all of his stoic, efficient, German manner, correct about the ambiguity and elusiveness of time.

However, “we mortals” have good reason, or at least a reason to mark the New Year with bells and an alcohol induced blaring of trumpets.

New Year’s Day is a time when many people gather to watch football, feast on pork and sauerkraut, and publicly (and foolishly) announce their resolutions for the coming year.

Some people view the day as just another day off from work.

Those same people oft times say that anytime of year is a good time to take stock and better yourself without the confines of a once a year resolution.

I myself, enjoy the festivities surrounding the New Year, but also understand the reasoning of those who eschew the tradition of making once a year promises.

My reason to celebrate, or at least observe the New Year, lies somewhere in between the aforementioned reasons...and it relates to the statement made by Thomas Mann.

I think that between 8 P.M. New Year’s Eve while partying, and 9 A.M. New Year’s Day when one wakes up (or is finally going to bed), time does, in a way, stand still.

As Mann said, “Time has no divisions…”, and during those precious few hours, we are like a broken clock. We are both A.M. and P.M., past and present; preface and postscript.

We can visualize everything we have ever been and ever done, in the often stark, monochromatic brutality of black and white.

We can also see everything that we want to be and want to do, in color…bright colors, colors that sometimes elude our sight because we do not take the time to notice them the other 364 days of the year.

The transition between the old and the new, is but a razor thin balance between Rationalism and Empiricism, between regret and hope…between charcoal drawings and watercolors.

I hope that we can all cut through the drab, dreary, and sometimes painful black and white screen of this world and of our personal prologues, and see the colors that we oft times miss.

My wish for you this New Year is that you use your past experiences as a pencil sketch, and spend 2012 turning that sketch into a painting of bright and wonderful watercolors.

Be safe…Kiss someone you love at midnight…and Happy New Year!!

Cheers!!

e-mail:  neshobadude@yahoo.com

Twitter: @mattmaniws

Next Stop...Self-Actualization

This past year has been a whirlwind tour through the glamour and glitz along the highway of fame one travels while becoming an internet radio and social media icon.

Yes my friends, the flashing luminaries of the paparazzi, the full body bathing from the national spotlight, and the appreciative roaring and laughter of the worldwide audience makes freewheeling down the entertainment superhighway, a pleasurable and exciting road trip, however…

Sometimes, one needs to veer onto the closest exit ramp and come to reintroduce one’s self to…um…one’s self, at a rest stop I call, Motel Introspection.

It’s good to check-in to a room at a motel, where…there’s no one to fix your sheets or fluff your pillows…no room service…no one telling you how awesome you are…

There is only you, where you have been, and…who you have become.

When I relax there, I get back to my roots and in touch with my core being by the only means I know.

Poetry.

For instance, the other night I was thinking about how season one of the IWS radio show was coming to an end and thought:

‘Neath the purple, swirling haze of autumn,

the languid cry of the last cicada

weaves a dirge with an orphaned cricket,

as fields lie barren from stream to thicket.

And so it goes…

And then, I reflected once more and my thoughts turned to the beginning of season two, and pondered:

Like the head of a whore popping up from her latest blow job,

The scarred sun once again rises,

Tempting the dreams and expectations of every man.

But at what cost…at what cost?

My life is a mill wheel, my friends, and the successes I have had, the mistakes I have made, the shattered dreams and brief encounters that lie in pieces upon my soul are the grist that make up the loaf of bread I call, Me.

My stay here at Motel Introspection may be brief or it may be extended, but I know that when I do check-out, I will be a better man.

But at what cost?

Cheers,

Matt-Man

neshobadude@yahoo.com

www.twitter.com/#!/MattManIWS