A Rozy View on Life

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

Monday, May 28, 2007

A Good Idea?

Have you ever seen two things that just shouldn't be combined?

Friday, May 18, 2007

"Xtreme Hammocking" but only because it was Xtremely awkward

There I was enjoying the beautiful day. Gorgeous park (the largest in Europe), sun shining, deer feeding nearby, an incredibly pleasant conversation having just ended. And to top things off, a hammock. Old Faithful, I will call her. Just me, Old Faithful, and sheer bliss. I was spending a moment or two in prayer prior to delving into a delectable read. Then I sensed an interruption.
My spideysense alerted me that a passerby was indeed passing by my haven of heavenliness. His name was Timothy, and he was a bit surprised to see a "human body" in the hammock. Not really sure what he was expecting, but it seemed this was his first encounter with a hammock. Timothy was about 65, Irish, and seemed to be a nice gentleman.
We exchanged pleasantries and Timothy stood near the hammock, gently rocking it as we spoke. We came to an awkward silence in the conversation and I half supposed he would be leaving. Instead he stayed there rocking the hammock. To make things more awkward (try to picture the physics) I am laying in the hammock, Timothy is standing next to me, rocking Old Faithful. My face is at approximately Timothy's crotch level and any discrepancy that exists is continually removed by the rocking of the hammock. Back and forth and back and forth. Yeah, awkward.
We resume the conversation slightly and then Timothy and I say our farewells. "Well, that wasn't too bad," I think to myself. Oh, optimism. The awkwardness prevails and Timothy remains. "Hadn't we just parted ways?" I ponder. To solidify my interpretation, I stare off in the distance, still at Timothy's crotch level, but looking the other way. This should help convey that my part of the conversation is over.
I forgot to mention that throughout the exchange of ideas, Timothy gradually gets moves closer and closer toward the side of the hammock that my head is somewhat awkwardly resting on. I needn't explain the consequences of this.
Awkward, uncomfortable, suspicious, and pondering the lack of efficiency in curtailing the conversation. I really can't handle any more of this ominous rocking. It's like in the Edgar Allen Poe's The Pit and the Pendulum, the pendulum getting closer and closer, building suspense until it makes contact. I wasn't prepared to stick around long enough for this to occur.
"I'm going to read now," I plainly stated. It was clear. And Timothy left.
Once I determined Timothy was beyond ear-shot, I erupted into laughter. Just me, Old Faithful, and laughter coming from the blue hammock containing a human body. I laughed for quite a while, partially from inability to deal with the awkwardness I had just experienced and partially in joyful expectation of being able to share it with you. May you find some sort of strange entertainment in the 5-10 minutes I spent in discomfort, and enjoy those briefs moments of bliss in life-you never know when they'll be interrupted by a 65 year old Irish man.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Evolution. The theory proven?

When I moved to Europe I was aware that there were several significant cultural differences. A few to mention: tight pants on guys, cigarette smoking everywhere, man-purses, cafes everywhere, Euro hairstyles, the list goes on. I came into this culture open-minded and feel that I have been able to assimilate into some of these categories.
The category that initially seemed the most attractive was the freedom to experiment with Euro hairstyles. It seems that mohawks and mullets are both readily prevalent, as are rat-tails.

(Amazing, isn't it.)

It is just more acceptable here. Call it behind the times, or perhaps even ahead of the times.
Long being a fan of the mohawk, this was the perfect location to enjoy its benefits to the fullest, without fear of being judged by the older generations. A recently developed personal appreciation for the mohawk consists of its natural merging with my receding hairline.

See how well it works.
(Like a match made in heaven.
The receding hair line and the mohawk that is,
not me and the old lady.)

Carrying on. So after some time of the mohawk, I grew a desire to someday be the proud owner of a mullet-hawk. Mohawk up top, mullet in back. But trust me, it would look good. According to European opinion anyway. So in my moderate, half-hearted attempt to procure this mullet-hawk something interesting happened. I wasn't really intentionally working towards the mullet-hawk, but more so hoping that one day it would become a reality of its own doing. What struck me by surprise, was that in this European way of life, it seemed that my mohawk (in the process of growing out) had evolved. Into a full blown rat-tail.

That could be put in a rubber band. It is affectionately referred to as the "rony-tail." The proper combination of rat-tail with a pony tail.

I shall now leave you to yourself to think through this modern marvel. Enjoy.