The Perspective-oscope

And the news reports on the radio

Said it was getting worse

As the ocean air fanned the flames

But I couldn't think

Of anywhere I would of rather been

To watch it all burn away…

-"Grapevine Fires," Death Cab For Cutie

I first heard that song early last year and latched onto it immediately. I'm weird that way about music. (Yeah, I know some people suggest I'm weird other ways too, but I'll deal with them later.) Songs bounce off me like balls off a Dodgeball Freshman, but sometimes I catch one and go "YAY!" That's "Grapevine Fires."

After hearing it, I called my NorCal friend, "You gotta hear this, it's about your house on fire."

"No it's not, " she says after one listen. She's in school. She's astute that way.

"Ok, but it is about a fire in your area."

"Yeah, and the 3:10 to Yuma rolls past your backyard."

"Well, when I lived in Yuma, it did."

"You know what I mean."

I did. She was right. I'm a blogger. I'm astute that way. Exaggeration and perception are the hobgoblins of our little culture, and those little hobs are gobbling me out of house and home!

It's ok though; I'm not the only one overrun by these monsters. I watched the monsters on Fringe the other night and I saw the following news blurb jammed between spots:

"Twins born from two daddies and stunned doctors have an explanation."

Wow! That is scary, but I'm thinking doctors aren't the ones who need to scramble for an explanation. I'm thinking mom's got some serious explaining to do.

"Funniest thing, I tripped over a naked man on the way to the grocery store. I didn't think anything of it, but nine moths later, look who has egg on her face…"

Actually that story is a little sensationalized. I'm sure it probably has something to do with artificial insemination, but once again, exaggeration and perception hobgoblins running amok.

There was also another story that that caught the interest of my inner 14 year old boy:

"This is no ordinary couple! And the show they put on is purely electric. Meet the Megavolts."

Hehehehe…

Ok, so maybe that one really is what it seemed. The interesting thing is that as I'm watching the news, I realize that none of us are any different: we all put on shows.

There's this old guy at the coffee shop. I see him all the time riding around the mall. Usually at night, he stops in the shop, plugs in his chair and then moves to a regular chair to read and flirt with the baristas.

He's a nice guy, but a bit of a character. It's funny, he's pretty dexterous for a wheelchair bound guy. He's obviously been in the chair a while because he's able to plug the chair in and move to a regular chair using mostly his arms, and he's an adept monkey of a man--Except Fridays and Saturdays. On those nights, there's an audience. On those nights he can barely move.

Before you start hurling coffee and insults at me. I'm not saying he's faking it. His chair is really nice. You don't spend that kind of money to fake a handicap. I'm just saying he plays it up a bit. Yeah, go ahead and hurl away. I'm Rob the glass house blogger.

I write about things, and I'm as guilty as the next guy. Oh, I don't make things up (except maybe calling MyEx a snowglobe the other day. She's not. And her lawyers have warned me that I'm in big trouble if anyone else tries to pick her up and shake her again. So please stop.) Other than that, everything is real--at least from my perspective.

Perspective is life's little kaleidoscope. Sure, twist it, you'll see. Where we point the kaleidoscope is the same, the difference is how we twist it. That changes what we see. Optimism is a quarter turn and 3 plastic flake tumbles from pessimism.

I think that's why I like the Death Cab song. It's about what can be a scary event; I mean people lost homes, pets, everything in those fires, and yet the singer is having a picnic in a graveyard watching. Good times! But I don't get the impression he's watching as in "waiting for scorched flesh. I get more that he's admiring the beauty of a surreal moment--or maybe that's just me and my blurry Apocalyptic kaleidoscope. I dunno.

There have been things in my life, and I'm sure yours. Things that can seem so horrible and searing. The thing is, though, that it's all about perspective. Perspective doesn't make participation any less painful. I still hate my 9th grade PE class, I still hate the monsters under my bed, and I still hate divorce. But how I twist my inner kaleidoscope alters where I stand ten, five, or even two years from now.

I can dwell on the pain of what I lost, or I can find the beauty in what I still have. I may have been bruised by balls, but at least I got to keep the two I came in with. I may have lost the furniture, but at least I got to keep my soul. A little melodramatic? I'm sure. It's my kaleidoscope, let me shift it--there, all good.

See. I love my life. It hasn't all been Bratwurst and Sprecker ale though. Granted, there are those who have it far worse than I have, and those who find a way to brush off the dirt and Sauerkraut up the brat of life, they amaze me. And yes, you know how hard it is to amaze Rob.

"Look, something shiny!"

Still, the thing is, I wouldn't change the bad. It makes me who I am. I can truly say that, yeah, I couldn't think of anyplace that I'd rather be to watch it all burn away...