I spent some time with Big Brother last night. I haven't done that in a while. He's a busy guy.
He's also a funny guy. He's a cop, with cop stories. Unfortunately, cops aren't allowed to comment on the funny side of what they do while they're doing it.
I can understand that. It's no good having a clown show up with a bullet-proof vest and a sap (that's a little piece of leather with lead sewn in one end. I'm not actually certain today's cops use them anymore). You need folks to take you seriously when the down-side could be a gunfight.
But the Turtle family finds humor in the oddest places. We are accustomed to dealing with tragedy by seeing the funny in it.
We were talking about the upcoming Zombie Apocalypse (yes, this is my family), and he was saying swords were the weapon of choice when dealing with zombies. A sword doesn't run out of ammunition, you see.
I argued a sword does run out of energy when its wielder tires, but he assured me with proper training, you don't get tired. You may get messy, but not tired.
I didn't bring up the possibility of contact infection. If you assume zombification requires fluid exchange in the form of saliva or blood, you run the risk of becoming infected by getting fluids on yourself, which is why guns are the weapon of choice for the masses. Of course, if the infection is airborne, we're all screwed and no weapon will help.
This conversation led to the next obvious topic: smell. He pointed out the one thing you never see in a zombie movie is folks reacting to the smell. He assured me if ever you encountered a 12-day old corpse rising from its grave, you might scream first, but you would puke second.
This led me to wonder if I'd been graphic enough in my dragon fight scene in Star of Justice. As slurpy, goopy and smelly as I made it was it slurpy, goopy and smelly enough? As long as the bodies are fresh, he said, you're good.
It got me to thinking about honesty. I was once encouraged by an acquaintance to "be honest." I spent a few minutes laughing about that.
I am ridiculously honest. You want to know me? Here I am. Some topics I will not broach on this blog because I find them crude (really? me? yes) or unprofessional. But what you read is who I am. I present myself, stink and all, right here.
Why do I do this?
I have no idea.
Perhaps I want to encourage folks who think only they think this way. Perhaps I want to make you feel better about yourself. Perhaps I just like the attention.
The trouble with therapy training is it's almost impossible to self-diagnose with any kind of accuracy. Not because you don't want to, but because those biases I've mentioned before get in the way. If my viewpoint it the only one I know, I can't see past it.
But this is why God gives us friends. You know that old "iron sharpens iron" proverb? A friend, a real friend, is your mirror, your "smell check." They show you things you cannot see about yourself, and they call you on it when your perfumed offering sours to the reek of the grave.
So I guess a post that starts with cops and zombies can end with friendship, kind of like Shaun of the Dead. Just remember to keep the air freshener close. It comes in handy with friends and zombies.
Friday, October 8, 2010
The Stench of Honesty
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Your honesty is one of the things that I admire about you. You have never left me wondering what you were thinking. I also believe that friends can mirror you but they can also distort your view, depends on how you are looking at them. Luckly for me, I see clearly when with you. I believe that is due to your honesty w/yourself then with others. :o)ReplyDelete
I prefer honesty as well. That means you can always trust the person's thoughts and opinions regardless of subject.ReplyDelete
If you don't mind a story, years ago when my husband and I were still dating, we went to what's called a DCM (Division of Civilian Marksmanship) shoot. We were shooting old 30-06 military rifles from 100 yards, 300 yards and 600 yards. I was using an old rifle where the sights kept dropping.
Dave was spotting me to let me know if I was shooting high or low. At one point I stopped and asked, "How am I doing?"
"You're shooting like [censored]."
His buddy standing next to him couldn't believe Dave would say it so brutally. "Jeez, Dave," he said, "don't sugarcoat it. Tell her what you really think."
I laughed and Dave shrugged. "If she didn't want an honest answer, she shouldn't have asked."
Good rule to live by, and I've trusted my husband to tell me the brutal truth -- and everything else -- ever since.
My Dear Friend, as if you would let me not tell you something. You're half the reason you can't get a word in edgewise.ReplyDelete
Andra, I rarely mind a story, and we have the same philosophy in the Turtle household. In fact, there's lots of questions I won't ask because I don't want to know. hehe!