Captain's Blog - Blog 2

Mrs. Sparrow was so excited to learn that I had finally done it and started my own blog. She has been nagging me for several years about undertaking said endeaver, talking about what a great release it would be for all my pent-up writing energy; how it would be a great opportunity to tell my stories; how it could be the first step to launching my career as a world famous novelist who's books were so good that they would be read by millions and then be sought after for blockbuster movies or at least a made-for-TV miniseries! So I did it and wrote my first blog entry a week ago. But now what? Here I sit staring at the computer screen wondering what in the world to write to fill up this dreaded white space. Where's all that pent-up writing energy? What happened to my great stories? I've drawn a blank. This does not bode well for my career aspirations.

I think the problem is that I'm suffering from an eye migrane. Know what that is? Me neither exactly, but I know it when I see it - or when I can't see and realize that it's an eye migrane causing the lack of clear vision problem. It doesn't actually cause any serious pain but it makes reading, and typing, difficult because parts of words or letters are blurred. Let's see, how can I describe it? Imagine yourself in a pitch dark room with the door closed and a light is turned on in the hallway. You can just make out the outline of the door caused by the light and then someone opens the door just barely a crack and light rays shine through. Now, take that vision of the cracked-open door and imagine that's what you see right in the middle of your field of vision when you're trying to read or type - or do any form of visual activity. Remember that scene in Ghost at the end when Patrick Swayze's character see's "the light" and it looks like there's a slice in the background of the scene and rays of light come flooding in? That's what it's like to have an eye migrane. They go away usually within 15-20 minutes if you close your eyes and just relax them. Very odd. And very discombobulating. Anyway, that's what I'm going to blame this writer's block on - eye migranes. I mean, how can you be creative or inspiring when all you can do is think about Patrick Swayze floating off to the promised land?

Speaking of Patrick Swayze, I hope he did float off to the promised land. He died recently after a battle with pancratic cancer. I was sad to see him go, even though I know Mrs. Sparrow found nothing that appealing about him. I am willing to admit that perhaps Lassie had more real acting talent then he did, but come on, how can you not get into a character named Johnny Castle who could shakes those hips like nobody's business and had me so aroused just undressing and dancing around Jennifer Grey in Dirty Dancing that I had no need to see the actual dirty deed played out to fruition. (Although it was so obvious in the morning after scene that they hadn't actually done it because by way of an erroneous camera angle, everyone could see that Baby (Jennifer's character) still had her granny panties on, and everybody knows that if they'd really been dancing dirty, those aforementioned panties, along with his tidy whities (if he wore any at all!) would have been strewn across the floor along with all the rest of her clothing. But I disgress.)

Now where was I? Oh yes, how could you not appreciate his "body" of art? Again, he may have been outacted by Whoopi Goldberg in Ghost (and that alone should give you an indication of how lacking his real acting skills must have been), but he more than made up for it during the pottery making scene, right? And while the whole premise of Road House was completely ridiculous, he participated in a barroom brawl with Sam Waterson - how could you not love that?

Back to my writer's block. I'll have to apologize to Mrs. Sparrow for my inability to find anything of interest to spew about. I hope she's not too disappointed. As for me, I'm off to another favorite passtime of mine - fantasy daydreams. I've taken Jennifer Grey's place and am at this moment carrying a watermelon into the "off limits to guests" bunkhouse where I will soon be manhandled by Johnny and we will get down to the business of some serious grinding. Wow, I never knew what a fabulous dancer I am!