In 1989, while working for The Weekly Triangle, the student newspaper of Wingate College (now Wingate University) in North Carolina, I created a weekly column called BushAngle. It had a simple premise… It would be my slant on whatever caught my attention. Sometimes serious, but mostly silly. Recently, I decided to rekindle something that’s been stirring in me for a long time – my creativity. With that said, Ray Bush’s BushAngle has been reborn…in the digital realm of this blog. Happy reading!
When about December 20th rolls around, I start reflecting upon the past year. Was it a good year? What were some of the goals that I set forth a year ago? What did I accomplish from that list of goals? As I get older, I feel that this type of reflection is a good practice. It allows me to evaluate myself, and decide if I need to give myself a swift kick in the butt for the next year.
If order to have proper perspective on my goals, like many others, I create a list of New Year’s Resolutions. In my younger years, this list was more of Wish List than a true outline of my goals. For example, one year I wrote: Become Batman and set out to fight crime.
My "Cooking" Masterpiece
First of all, I live in Brevard County; not exactly a Gotham City where I could grapple from building to building. Second, I think I’d pull a hamstring (or something worse) if I was out running around it tights. I’m almost certain that I was writing myself a joke that I’d laugh at a year later when I was reviewing my list. (And, mission accomplished. I chuckled when I read it, although I do want to be Batman.)
In recent years, my resolutions are more down to earth, and attainable. And, for the most part, I come close to achieving them. However, one in particular continues to be my nemesis: Learn how to cook. And I put it on my list every single year!
Most of you are thinking: He’s obviously joking. But I’m not. The art of cooking (and to me it’s truly an art) has eluded me all my life. Sure, like every man, I can throw a slab of meat on a grill and flip it a few times until it’s done. But, that’s not really cooking. Honestly, I think that’s a primal instinct all men are born with. What I’m talking about it true cooking – measuring, sampling, several pots and pans going at once, tasty aromas filling the kitchen, people salivating and wondering when you’ll be done. Cooking!
This year when I wrote Learn how to cook on my list I decided: Dammit, I’m gonna learn how to cook!
But I also decided that this year would be different. So, instead of jumping headlong into the cooking process (like I usually do) and giving up after making a huge mess, I was going to start slow. [Side note: One year I burned a glass-top stove. Someone asked me: “How did you burn a glass-top stove?!?!” I replied: I don’t know, but I did it!] In "starting slow", I decided that I would make “dishes” from several precooked components. You’re probably thinking: Huh??? Let me explain.
I was watching television, and a commercial came on which went something like this:
“Hey, turn Chunky soup into a real meal!” I was instantaneously hooked! I watched as the TV mom cooked (and I use this term loosely) rice, heated up Chunky sirloin burger soup, drained the soup slightly, and then poured it over a bed of rice. I immediately thought: Ingenious!!!
The next day I went to the store and bought my ingredients:
1 can of Chunky soup; Sirloin Burger with Country Vegetables
1 package of Minute Rice (Don’t get excited. I don’t have to cook the rice. I comes in containers that I stick in the microwave.)
And I set off to create my first “dish”. Things went pretty well. I only burned my thumb…twice. I complemented my dish with a slice of white bread, buttered of course. I sat down and ate my “dish”, and it was the BEST Chunky soup and rice I’ve ever eaten in my entire life. I was so proud of myself for “cooking” a meal.
I called my friend Brian, and said, “Hey, I cooked a meal.” There was a very long pause. I’m sure he was waiting for the "but" and/or "and". Something like: “Hey, I cooked a meal…and cut off two of my fingers.”
After the long pause… “That’s not cooking,” he said. “That’s stirring!”
Leave it to a friend to drain the excitement out of the moment. Oh well, there’s always that Batman resolution to focus on. Maybe I should consider fitting myself for black and gray tights.
I’ve always had an over-active imagination. As long as I can remember, I’ve created people, places, and things that could only exist within the confines of my mind. And I’ve always considered this a gift.
Recently, while reminiscing with childhood friends, they reminded me of the enjoyment my imagination brought, not only to myself but to others as well. You see, we grew up in an age where our toys where simply props which enhanced our imaginations. Simple garnish to the meat that was the characters and stories we created. As my friend Jeff pointed out, the first video games we played were comprised of digital squares that made up the landscape and components of the games. Three digital squares could be a first baseman on a baseball game, a horse in the Kentucky Derby, or a space alien invading Earth. But we had to imagine it; it wasn’t displayed with every detail as video games are today.
And our imagination wasn’t limited to video games. It was part of our everyday childhood. A tree branch could be a machine-gun, or a bone to a prehistoric animal, or Excalibur herself. It was fun. Often our summer days consisted of us just sitting around creating the worlds in which our minds would just wander; from sunrise to sunset. Magical.
Today, toys come equipped with story, character, and ending; bleeping sounds, bright lights, and moveable arms and legs. Little is left to imagination.
Now, I could easily launch into a rant about how today’s youth have little imagination, and really no prompts in order to create something beyond what they see on television or on a movie screen. But, that’s not what this is about.
As much as I’d like to think that I was born with an over-active imagination, that’s simply not the truth. While I consider it to be a gift I possess, it’s also one that I was given. Something bequeathed to me by the older of my two sisters, Laurie.
To this day, my imagination is still very much over-active. I’m excited by movie trailers, and mark on my calendar the opening days of those I plan to see. In some cases I even take the day off from work to ensure I’m among the first to see the film. A total nerd, through-and-through. In many ways, I see myself as Peter Pan, the boy who wouldn’t grow up. And I attribute that to my sister Laurie. She was Tinker Bell, sprinkling the pixie dust that allowed me to fly.
When I was small child, she would often craft her own stories, and I would be her audience, sitting wide-eyed as she unraveled tales of distant worlds and far-out characters. In later years, I would spend weekends at her apartment, and Laurie would take me to the movies, and we’d chat for hours about the characters and what we had just seen.
My big sis introduced me to Star Trek, the reruns of the original television show from the 1960s. I immediately became a Trekker, and I am still to this day. In 1977, Laurie took me to see Star Wars, and I remember sitting in the movie theater just mesmerized by the images before me. Over that summer I ended up seeing Star Wars 26 times, and my big sis was often in the seat next to me.
In the early 80s between the second and third installments of the Star Wars trilogy, Laurie and I crafted a plotline for what we thought the third movie should be. Believe it or not, ours was actually pretty close to what ended up on the silver screen when Return of the Jedi was released. (We came up with a story where the heroes went to the Wookie homeworld; we always liked Chewbacca. I know most of you are saying: “What in the world is he talking about?!?” But Star Wars nerds will understand and see the similarities.)
My sister would also take me to science fiction conventions, and I was exposed to a world with little judgment. After all, how can a guy with rubber pointed ears pass judgment on anyone? To this day, I still go to science fiction conventions. Just this past year, I hopped a plane and hit the mother of all geek fests – Comic Con in San Diego, Calif. As I walked through the massive convention hall and looked at the exhibits, attendees dressed in wild garb, and vendors pushing their wares, I couldn’t help but remember the first convention my sister took me to in Orlando, Fla. In San Diego, my eyes were filled with the same amazement and awe. Fantastic.
On Sunday, Jan. 2, 2011 at 10:40 p.m. my sister Laurie passed away. While this saddens me, I can’t help but imagine she’s traveled off to one of the distant worlds she created in her mind, and narrated to me so many years ago. As I write this, my thoughts are filled with the immense detail that poured out of her when she told her stories to me. There’s no doubt, she has transported to a better place.
So, as Peter Pan, I can say only one thing to my big sis, Laurie: “Second star to the right, and straight on till morning.”
Stay tuned for future "issues" of BushAngle. It's coming soon to a blog spot near you!
The original BushAngle; circa 1989
Until then, for some of you "ol' timers" who might remember BushAngle in its original format -- in the pages of The Weekly Triangle at Wingate College (yes, I said "College"; not University) -- to the right is a blast from the past. Ahhh...brings back lots of memories for me. Now that I think about it...not very good ones! I broke my hand, and couldn't write that week. Why the %$*@ did I save this one!?!?
Enjoy!
[BushAngle officially comes "online" January 3, 2011. See you then!]
