There's Always a Bigger Fish

Partner and I did work on the yard - and I did trim those hellacious laurels - but we did it all during the weekend.  Finished with a dump run on Sunday, so we can say the task was complete.  Partner also built a platform for three flower pots in the front yard, and today I put down bricks along our walkway.  Things are starting to come together.

At least, in the yard.   Partner and I have been going through a bit of a rough patch lately, although we seem to be coming out of it.  There's no actual arguing or anything, just a fairly cold, forced atmosphere.  It probably all started with me a week ago, when I went through one of my "jags" after playing with his nipples and getting rejected.  I was cold with him, then when I was over it he was cold with me.  The weekend helped warm things up, and that's what I expect will continue to happen.  If not, he goes away on a business trip for a week next week, so I assume 'absence will make the heart grow fonder.'  Honestly, I don't expect anything to come from this; I guess I'm just taking note as sort of an historical record.

Switching gears: in Star Wars I there's a scene when the Jedi and Jar Jar are in a craft underwater, and a large creature tries to eat them.  Instead, a bigger fish eats that one, only to be swallowed by an even larger creature.  Looking out the window, the Jedi (played by Leam Neeson) said, "There's always a bigger fish."

I think that, besides being one of the best lines from that otherwise-lame movie, this line is a wonderful philosophy to live by.  No matter how great we think we are, there's always someone greater.  Or faster.  Or stronger.  Or in better shape.  

Or - as I've come to find out recently - more obsessed.

In previous posts I mentioned my history with and love for This is Spinal Tap.  What I don't think I mentioned was the fat guy that was seated front row center at the most recent concert.  He sang every lyric to every song (at least every time I looked over at him), he carried something which looked like Spinal Tap paraphanalia that he wanted the guys to sign (they didn't), and at the end of the show he waited for the roadies to give him the set list.  While I think having the set list would be neat...really, what's he going to do with it?  I'm just not that obsessed.

Unfortunately, my not being obsessed with - well, with anything, really - means that I've missed out on some limited-edition offers around my favorite things.  In the last month I learned that Cameron Crowe released a vinyl LP edition of the Harold & Maude soundtrack, complete with extra goodies.  I would LOVE to own that, but it was released in very limited numbers last year, so all copies are gone.  How did people even find out about it?  I guess if I were more obsessed, I would track my favorite things every day online, join chat groups about them, make comments on sites like imdb, and scour the web in search for the latest deals.

But no, I just can't do it.  As much as I love my favorite movies, TV shows and music, I just can't get myself worked up enough to compete with the "ultimate fans."  I guess I'll have to be satisfied with loving them in my own quiet, individual way.