A Rozy View on Life

I am John Rozelle, hear me ROAR like a dinosaur!

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

On a more serious note

There are a lot of unstable elements in life. And as humans we seek stability. We need some sort of comfort, some sort of hope, something unchanging, something or someone trustworthy.
I have often found this in friends. No matter how bad life sucks, at least I have my friends. Or so I thought. In college one of my best friends committed suicide. I could no longer look to him for consistent comfort. I had always expected him to be there for me and now he was gone.
People will let us down, sometimes by their own doing, sometimes by no fault of their own. But there is still a longing for something stable. Something consistent. Something unable to fail us.
I have come to the conclusion this could not be something human. It must be something beyond the realm of our own human existence. If perhaps there were someone or something that was here before I came into existence and will be here long after I am gone, perhaps that could be the trustworthy source of an unending hope.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

I killed a cactus

I bought a cactus because they are known for being low maintenance. I have never owned a plant and that seemed like a good place to start. Perhaps I should have viewed it as "no maintenance" because within the first 2 weeks it seemed to be getting too dried out. So, I watered it. And it died. You just can't win.

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

How you know you're in Montana

When the article on the front page of the newspaper is about a school teacher who while riding his bike to work literally ran into a 300 lb bear and both went tumbling down the road. Both survived.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

I may not be a genius, but I am smarter than a lot of people.

I flew to Seattle a couple weeks ago. There's one thing about airlines that continues to boggle my mind. You know how there are different boarding zones to determine what order people get on the plane? This is a good idea.

First class is usually first to board. I understand this. They spent more money on their tickets and they deserve to board first so that everyone else is forced to walk by them lounging in their comfy over-sized leather seats with a cocktail in hand, everyone else jealous of their lush setting while heading back to coach. I understand this.
I also understand having handicapped people and parents with small children boarding early. They need more time.

It's the whole organizational structure of the boarding zones that I don't understand. If I were in charge, I have at least a couple ideas of how I would organize the boarding zones. Perhaps the first people to board would be those in the back of the plane. This way you never have to force your way by someone in the aisle or awkwardly squeeze into the row to let someone pass. No more waiting for that guy to try and cram his over-sized carry-on in the overhead bin. You fill up the plane from back to front. This makes sense.

Another option would be to have everyone with window seats board first. This philosophy seats passengers from the outside in, thereby removing the inconvenience of having to asking your row neighbor to get up so that you can get past them to your seat. No more of that holding your ticket in your hand and pointing to your window seat so that person knows to get up, move into the center aisle (congesting traffic) and allow you to access your seat. This strategy also seems to make sense.
What doesn't make sense is the reality of how the boarding zones actually work. The boarding zones seem nicely organized into a hierarchical structure of numbers, with passengers boarding the plane in either ascending or descending order of zone number. A problem is encountered when one gets on the plane and realizes that the boarding zones are completely irrelevant to the passengers' seat numbers. There are people everywhere on the plane, front and back, window and aisle seats, clearly no organization to how people are shuttled onto the plane. There is truly no reason for boarding zones except to give passengers the false perception of organization.
Perhaps my criticism of the boarding zones being completely irrelevant is unfair. I do allow room for the possibility that the boarding zone correspond to passenger's birthday, favorite color, favorite cereal, phone number, or any variety of personal information. I have not done enough research to verify any of these. The point being that regardless of these possibilities, the boarding zones do in no way increase the effectiveness of boarding the plane, except perhaps by the fact that there will be four short lines for boarding the plane instead of one long line. Within this optimism, there still remains the reality that it will take just as long, just as many people will have to squeeze into the row to let another pass, you still have to wait for the guy to cram his luggage in the overhead bin and you still have to point to your seat and make your row neighbor get in someone else's way by moving into the center aisle to let you by.
Thank goodness I only had to pay $400 for this kind of efficiency. I hope the plane mechanics have a little more foresight.

Thursday, July 17, 2008

A Glimpse into the "Depths" of my Mind

You know how people have a terminal velocity? Like when people jump out of an airplane and reach the fastest speed they can go.
I wonder if grass has a terminal height. Like the highest height it can grow to and not get any taller.
The reason I ponder this is that if grass does not have a terminal height, my imagination runs wild. ( I confess that I don't know all that much about when and how the continents got populated and when, but work with me here.)
The way I see it, when the Indians got to America the grass had been growing for quite some time. I'm not just talking days, months and years here. So basically anywhere they wanted to go, they had to trek through grass fields that were hundreds of feet tall. Perhaps thousands of feet tall.
I suppose there were grass eating animals around, but surely not enough to take care of all the grass.
You see where I'm going with this? I see either two options. Either grass has a terminal height or the Indians spent the vast majority of their time forging machetes and hacking their way through grass jungles, the like of which modern society has never seen.
Yes, this is what I think about in my free time.

Sunday, July 06, 2008

I Put My Money Where My Mouth Was

I'm a firm believer that our lives should not be lived within the confines of our comfort zones. It is the times that we do the things most objectionable or scary to us that we learn the most. I feel to some extent that this idea continually drives me more to do things that are not natural.
Unfortunately, this philosophy has consequences. Like when some friends invite you to go swing dancing. Those of you who know me know how brutally awful my dancing "abilities" are. Those of you who don't know me, just take my word for it.
So in line with stepping out of my comfort zone, I went for it. Try anything once, right? And of course I knew there would be some ladies there, so that helped.
So there I am awkwardly trying to figure out the basic foot moves when the teachers keep adding more complicated maneuvers in. One of them was called the tuck and roll. Luckily it didn't involved flying out of a cannon as one might expect.
So I'm starting to get the hang of it and feeling a little more confident. We switch partners frequently which prevents any one particular female with getting too frustrated with me. I go through one session in which I'm feeling pretty good, by far the best I've done all night. My partner responds, "Don't worry. You'll get it. Just keep trying."
Of course, all I can think is, "Honey, that's as good as it gets. You want more from me?"
Needless to say, I have no plans on becoming a professional dancer, of any sort.
At least from the evening I was able to take confidence in living up to my life philosophy and stepping out of my comfort zone. Not to mention being able to dance with some nice old ladies.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

A Game

Did you ever read that kids' magazine, Highlights? It was awesome. You remember where they had two pictures of similar situations and you had to find all the differences between them? Yeah...that was sweet.
Well, this is kinda like that, but there is only one picture and there are no differences. Sorta.
So here's a picture of me, in my room, wearing a shirt I got in Bosnia for about 10 dollars. I was pretty stoked about it. So your job is to figure out what is wrong with this picture, besides the fact that I don't really look all that happy.