Buddha Balboa Archives - Page 6 of 9

Soprano Silenced

By now you’ve heard the news…James Gandolfini, of The Soprano’s fame, has died.

James Gandolfini (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

At 51.

In Italy. A suspected heart attack in his hotel bathroom. Discovered by his teenaged son. Pronounced dead at a local hospital.

At 51. At 51 years young.

For someone 20, he may seem old, but for the rest of the world, he was young. Dying at 51, out of nowhere, is hard to swallow.

I was in shock when I heard the news – which was texted to me last night when I was out having dinner with a friend – “Gandolfini dead?” – read the brief text.

What? I thought. I looked to my friend and asked her as if she would possibly have had this inside information and not shared it. Her response was the same disbelief. How out of the blue, how sudden, how unexpected.

I, of course, don’t know Mr. Gandolfini personally, nor professionally (though I did do stand-in work in one episode on The Soprano’s, a mere brush with infamy.) So I can’t speak to the man he was, but I did enjoy his work on The Soprano’s as well as the numerous other acting roles he embraced.

He was good. That was clear. And his portrayal of Tony Soprano changed the television landscape for the years it swept through our homes. He was fortunate to land such a role and he knew it. He became a household name….such so that all one had to get was a text asking Gandolfini dead? and anyone would know who it was.

For me, it’s yet another poignant reminder that nothing, and I mean nothing, can stop the inevitability of death. Not fame. Not fortune. Not plans to attend a film festival in Sicily just days later. Nothing. It is, as they say, the great equalizer. All of us are headed in the same direction – regardless of our financial or infamous successes.

I think we tend to forget that. We tend to put those well-off or well-known in a different, impenetrable category. As if they have the secret to longevity or the good life. That because of their societal status, they are immune to the difficulties, pains and sad surprises that life can throw our way. But they aren’t. They are just like the rest of us – full of human frailty.

The shock here, in Gandolfini’s case, is not so much that he died (as we all will) but that he left us before his time. That his gift as an actor is now silenced. That he still had so much to do, see, feel, and experience. That’s the kicker for me. Because inside each of us, I believe we have this constant yearning to live life as fully as we can until our time has come. I often need to remind myself that this road is limited. There is an end.

RIP Mr. Gandolfini. Thank you for entertaining us – you will most certainly be remembered and missed. – BB

Bionic Life

Bionic. I think we are in search of a modern-day bionic life.

If you’re old enough to remember the show “The Six Million Dollar Man” from the 70’s – a big high-five. If you’re not, look it up….youtube it. Find out what all the excitement was surrounding the rebuilt astronaut Steve Austin (other than his 70’s good looks.)

The premise was that we could rebuild a broken man and make him “better… stronger…faster” (music swells as Steve Austin runs at lightning speed.) Ah, 70’s television – I miss it.

The thrill of the show was that we finally had the technology to do something never done before. We had become advanced enough as a species to go beyond our wildest dreams. It was post-space travel capability and pre-cell phone domination. It was the cusp of something superhuman.

And so here we are today – with our bionic lives in place. We may not have a computer eye in our heads (yet), or legs that outrun an Olympic sprinters, but we have created a world that is in overdrive…flying by, morphing, twirling like a Tasmanian Devil.

How do we keep up? Or better yet, do we need to?

There is an argument, naturally, on both sides of this coin. Of course we need to keep up, say the workforce guru’s, as the only way to compete in today’s job market is to outrun the competition. Technology is the driving force – a new gadget magically appears practically every quarter (never mind annually, that’s so old school.) I blame Apple for that – creating and marketing the next best thing – with unveilings coincidentally surfacing around holidays and school seasons. It’s a thirst that can never be quenched – “What – you only have an iPhone 4S? Oh. Sorry.” As if the latest anything will bring us joy, prestige, happiness and self-esteem. What it brings us really is dwindling bank accounts, increasing credit card debt and just another soon-to-be outdated piece of tech equipment earmarked for the junk drawer.

So what are we doing to ourselves? The big boys are making tons of money off our desire, or rather our “need”, to be at the front of the line. Maybe it’s our ancient yearnings bubbling up – the need to beat our chests and be king of the jungle. Maybe it’s the desire to belong – to not be an outsider. I mean, who does NOT own a cellphone these days? My dad does, even though he can barely use it – I’m pretty sure there are voicemails I left him 3 years ago that he never retrieved. I try to cut him some slack – there are a lot of buttons to push – it can be confusing.

Our need for speed is outpacing our ability to learn. Our multi-tasking is actually, according to neuroscientists, re-wiring our brains. What? Yes, re-wiring our brains. So maybe we are altering ourselves bionically after all. We can’t focus, we lose sleep, we burn the candle not only at both ends, but have torched the whole darned ball of wax.

Can we slow down? Is it too late for that? I don’t think so. There’s a bit of street talk about quitting Facebook, powering down our phones at dinner, and going off the grid during vacations. We are trying to loosen the grids grip on us – as it squeezes us into forced decompression. We need it gang….we really do. We need to step away from the bloated buffet of technology and remember what a tree looks like, before we’ve cut them all down. (Oh God, I realize I’m suddenly sounding like a wild-haired hippie tree-hugger right now, but that’s not my intention.) I’m just like the rest of us – I want my iPhone and my cake too. I love my Kindle and my Apple TV and my high-speed Internet connection. It all makes for convenience in my day. BUT – and I draw the line here – not at the expense of my ability to understand that it’s just metal and wires and invisible electromagnetic waves (which is probably the source of many a migraine other than just hearing your mother’s voice on the end of the line.) It’s not flesh and blood like you and me. It has no heart or soul or whatever you may call it. Shouldn’t we remind ourselves once in a while that technology is A source, not THE source.

And not for nothin’, six million dollars to rebuild a man? I’ve seen apartments that cost more than that. Inflation. – BB

Keepin’ It Clean

Don’t put on your new shirt until after you’ve brushed your teeth.

That’s it. Simple but valid advice.

It may not seem important in the big scheme of things, but sometimes it’s the little things that count. Like keeping your new shirt clean.

I got dressed for work this morning, as I’ve done thousands of times before, and I put on a new (brightly colored) blouse that I recently purchased and never worn. Today was its debut. One of the last things I do in my daily routine is brush my teeth (2 times – I know it’s a little OCD of me) – and then finish my makeup and head for the door.

Because this new shirt is “silky” in nature, I bent even further over the sink than normal, hoping to alleviate the water splash that can come with tooth brushing/rinsing. I finished, grabbed my bag and hit the road. Ah, success.

Until. Until I gazed down during my bus commute and noticed little white spots on my blouse in the morning sun. DAMN, I thought. Come on Liz, really? I thought you escaped the immediate dirt attraction that usually accompanies a new outfit. I proceeded to attempt to “scrape” the little dots off the shiny ruffles, but to no avail. Oh well, I thought. Whatever. I decided to pretend it wasn’t happening and looked out the window.

Ok, yes it’s a little obsessive, but when you buy new things (clothes, furniture, rugs) you would like them to stay pristine for awhile. I’m not saying forever – but maybe at least through just ONE wearing….is that too much to ask?

I have a running joke with a friend of mine about white clothing. Although I love all things white (including sheets, furniture, teeth), white clothes produce fear in my veins. I just KNOW that the second I put on white pants or a white shirt, a speck of dirt magnetically attaches itself to me. I could be in a vacuum sealed room and somehow a piece of determined dirt will find me. You thought you could escape me, but haha, I will hunt you down wherever you hide. White pants – not for me. Perhaps when I get to heaven (if I’m so fortunate and there is such a place) the dress code afforded to me will be a fabulous pair of white jeans, a white top made of only the finest silk, and a pair of Louboutin white leather stilettos, without a scuff mark in sight. Ah yes, heaven will be spotless.

Don’t worry, I’m over it already. After all, I do understand that there is the thing called a washing machine or the dry cleaners that can erase my fears by days end. It’s not like I need to go to the river and beat my blouse with a rock until sundown (which would pretty much ruin this blouse altogether….so mental note, no rock beating of clothing…check.)

I guess the moral of this story is to let it go. Life is messy. New shirts get toothpaste on them. Shirt sleeves get stained. Pants get torn. Shoes get scuffed. Things get dirty.

Down and dirty. Very Buddha Balboa, no? – BB

One Size Fits…

All? Is that right?

In the world of clothing, the label OS or One Size, means it’s supposed to fit us all. All of us. You, me, your neighbor, your co-worker, your mother. I’ve also seen the fence-riding, One Size Fits Most tag, which is a politically correct way of saying don’t hold us accountable if it doesn’t fit – we said MOST, remember?

The principle behind one size fits all is that the object or procedure or program is flexible. That all of us can partake of this particular product…that it’s universal.

While some of this idea is true, just like our fingerprints, we are all unique. The way we see the world, the dreams we have, the foods we like, the worries we embrace. Yes, we are one size fits all under the “human being” umbrella – yes, we are all living creatures walking the earth. Yes, we have unique human traits that separate us from other species. We are the same, and yet different.

Many of us dislike the generalizations that volley about like balls on a tennis court, yet our society is riddled with them. As a woman, I’ve often felt the sense of internal panic when faced with the OS tag. Will I fit in this? And if I don’t, what does that say about me? Will I be ostracized by the global community? Yes, I’m being dramatic but we’ve all been there.

Makes me think of the Cinderella story. As Cinderella rushes hastily from the ball, she loses her glass slipper. Since the prince has fallen in love with the secret Cinderella, he searches the kingdom to find the woman who will fit this abandoned shoe. At the home of Cinderella, each wicked step-sister desperately attempts to squeeze her foot into the magical slipper, but to no avail. However, Cinderella’s identity is revealed when her slender foot effortlessly glides into the fantasy footwear, proving the perfect fit both poetically and literally.

Now, if Cinderella’s foot was a size 7 for example (a relatively common size) and Prince Charming had stopped by a house prior to Cinderella’s with a female who wore a size 7, would she have become the Princess? Would not that glass slipper have fit many a woman in the castle community? Should they all have claimed rights to the kingdom and the happily ever after ending?

My point is this – we are not a one size fits all world. We are a conglomeration of sizes, of fits, of needs, wants, fears, ideas, principles, morals and everything else in between. It is up to each one of us, to tailor fit our world to the best of our abilities. We can’t squeeze everyone into some preconceived notion of our own.

Sometimes the fit will be tight – sometimes it will be loose. Sometimes we will just have to take it off the rack and make do with irregular seams.

I’m a spandex kind of gal…keeps me flexible. – BB