Friends

I realized the other day, I have some awfully good friends. I have a few friends, potter and golfer, who would probably whack someone if that was a service I was in need of. I'm sure partner would do his part as well, but may have some reservations about being the only one on the scene.

Really. I have some really good friends. I have some good friends local, and some pretty good friends who are far away. These friends wouldn't participate in a whacking, but they'd stick up for me if someone started talking trash. Minnesota, well, he might need a new name, but he'd do just about anything I need. No matter the distance.

What got me started thinking about this? Who knows. I guess auto failure, healthcare crisis, whatever strife one looks at as possible in life, we look around at the people lining up to help us. If you've been through some significant trauma in life, death of a family member, loss of a job, divorce, loss of a spouse, cross country move, whatever it may be, then you know what I'm talking about. Who are the first people/who is the first person you'd call?

Sure, my brothers would help me with anything, but that's sort of expected. We get along, there's not enough drama to support an Aaron Spelling show between us, not to say we haven't had our share of disagreements, but, I'm just saying. Brothers should help each other. Sisters. Sure. I've just never had one, so I don't know what to expect from one. Not that I'm going to get one, mind you. Just further pointing out, that my limited experience is confined to brotherhood relationships only.

I can remember planning the numerous treks I've done, and it's kind of nice. A lot of the same people who have encouraged me to do some of the things I've done, Grad school, great job opportunity, explore further interests, have been there for me a long time. I appreciate them. I need to tell them more often, but I appreciate them. A lot. Really. I'd be a lot less further along what I consider to be my success continuum without their help. I need to thank them.

Thank the people who have helped get you to where you are, and those who will be there to help you to where your going. Some of those people help shape where you're going. If you're lucky.

-Rusty.

Kyrgyzstani's unite!

Well. Lookee there.

Evidently, numerous consonant containing Kyrgyzstan got a new President. I guess I haven't been keeping up on my current world affairs closely enough. What with this whole war, trade, economy, North Korea with nuclear (nukular) weapons. Sheesh. I'm slacking.

So what are they called???

Taken from Salon.com

"The Aristocrats," Paul Provenza and Penn Jillette's exhilarating documentary about the genesis and continual evolution of one very dirty joke, is less about free speech than about the freedom of speech. And viewing it as a manifesto only detracts from its indelicate, yet delicately calibrated, brilliance. It doesn't matter that AMC has opted not to run the movie in its theaters: That's not censorship but a business decision. (Everyone has the constitutional right to be a numbnuts.) Nor is it particularly meaningful that conservative critic Michael Medved has sniffed derisively at the picture, like a dog who thinks it's above the smell of its own shit. The inherent offensiveness of the joke itself (more on this later) is the controversial sticking point. But the picture itself is so ebullient and celebratory that it practically beams with perverted innocence. It also moves with an acrobat's timing. (I've seen French art house movies that aren't nearly so beautifully made.) All of this is a roundabout way of saying that unlike Medved, I know art when I smell it, and "The Aristocrats" is it.

OK.
Can't wait to see it