Why Didn’t I Notice This Before?!

The mythical Mount Olympus in northern Greece....
The view from Mount Olympus

Dear Har-old,

“You’re just like your dad. Y’all watch the same show over and over.”

Then you responded, “Yeah I watch shows at least twice. First time for entertainment. Second time for educational purposes.”

Remember that.

How about you get it the first time?

Ironically, all your favorite detective shows like Monk, Psych, Criminal Minds and SVU have clues in every episode.

But you don’t have your “aww” moment until the last ten minutes of the show.

Then when you watch the re-run, that’s when you get the detective-eye:

You see the things you blinked on before.

The things you missed because you had your focus on the top of the t.v screen instead of the bottom.

The things you missed because you don’t have two t.v’s in the room, so you had to change the channel back and forth to see what was happening on your other favorite show, that just so happened to be on at the same hour.

Next time you watch a NEW episode of a detective type show, work the case from home.

Open eyes. Open ears. Open mind.

Then when those last ten minutes come you will say “I knew it” instead of “aww.”

Watch shows like these to develop your Mount Olympus foresight.

It’s always who you least expect.

Futuristically yours,

Har+new

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Who Burnt The Popcorn?!

popcorn
Extra butter

Dear Har-old,

“I just wished that nobody made a movie of me while I was still alive.”

And if I could add to Zuckerberg’s quote: ” . . . and while I’m only 26 years young!”

Dead or old.

Did not believe. But you did entertain thoughts of the world ending on the 21st. You did, Har-old.

Your beef was: “I’m too young to die.” “I haven’t lived yet.” “What about my future?”

And that got me thinking . . .

About how I can make you and every other young’n UNCOMFORTABLE with a biographical movie.

So, what’s on the menu?

Popcorn!

Burnt popcorn!

This new section will be movie trailers of y’all young lives UP TO THIS POINT.

Made by those that know you best.

That means they are in control of who plays you, the name of the movie, the trailer’s music, what genre it is: a comedy, a romance, an action-packed film.

But … I’m hoping it’s a DRAMA!

A HORROR!

Then everybody will vote on which trailer they would like to see turned into an actual film, consequently going to the movies to see.

And one more thing …

Life doesn’t get a sequel.

Futuristically yours,

Har+new

Do Not Be-come At-tached

Mr. Potato Head and Friends
Many Faces of Mr. Potato Head

Dear Har-old,

NBA Finals. Game seven. Three seconds left. Lakers down by one point. On the road. Fouled. Kobe goes to the free throw line.

Ruckus arena. 20k+. Fans behind the basketball goal trying their best to distract Kobe with their antics: disrespectful signs, dressing up as a brick wall, waving their hands and arms, throwing shirts or towels in the air.

Undeterred. Kobe ties the game. Just when you thought the decibels couldn’t get any higher, it do. Just when you thought the antics couldn’t get any sillier, they do. Even the opposing players participate with trash talk. Their season is on the line.

The ultimate showman. Kobe shoots the second free throw with his eyes closed. Swish!

The audacity. The boldness. The riskiness. The confidence. The cockiness. The attitude.

The sports analyst said, “The outside world doesn’t bother Kobe because in his mind he is in an empty gym.”

Har-old, the next time someone says and asks, “It’s so loud in here, how are you able to concentrate on your reading?”

Respond with, “In my mind I am in an empty library.”

Physically here _

Mentally there >>>>>>>>>>

You are Mr. Potato Head.

Tune them out.

De-tach your mind from your body when you “don’t want to hear it.”

At-tach it to a book, a motivational song, an inspirational movie, or to be selfish, me, the future. Whatever!

Your de-tach-a-bil-i-ty is a GOOD thing. Do not let them tell you otherwise!

Do not become at-tached!

Futuristically yours,

Har+new

I Bet You’re Thinking I’m Talking About You

Dear Har-old,

I know, I know, I know.

You’re a “private” person.

And journals, diaries are meant for your eyes only.

“Don’t write what you don’t want others to read,” they say.

But I’m not trying to get people interested in YOUR life.

I am trying to get people interested in THEIR life, THEIR future.

Do not be so vain!

This is about the blog’s concept; not about you, Har-old.

Sure, these letters take on a personal nature, but are broad enough to make you relatable to OTHERS.

And that is the whole point.

Remember: I started this blog based on a need of YOURS. A need to be around other like-minds.

You still want that Master Mind Alliance, right?

Thought so.

Ironically, to make FuturisticallyYours.com successful WE both have to work.

Like I said before, I will find other future versions of young people’s present selves.

Your job is to market to those young-present-selves and get them to “respect their elders.”

And by that I mean having the young present WRITE WITHOUT READING.

Tell them if they’re worried about misspelled words, grammar mistakes, punctuation errors, blah blah blah, that’s what the proofreader is for.

Okay?

Care less.

I will edit anyways.

Write with a flow!

Tell them to read what they wrote a week or two from the date. Or hey, even a month.

Because that’s when the, “Damn I wrote this!” is followed by a “Did I say that out-loud?”

WRITE WITHOUT READING!!!

Futuristically yours,

Har+new

Eating In My Face

Soul Food
Image by Jen SFO-BCN via Flickr

Dear Har-old,

The hungrier one becomes, the clearer one’s mind works-also the more sensitive one becomes to the odors of food.

There is nothing like having noise in your head and being hungry at the same time.

You hate when people eat in front of you; they equally hate being watched.

Har-old, why don’t you become the one that’s comfortable at the table?

Suck the smell in your noise.

Lick your lips … bite ’em!

Rub your stomach like a pregnant woman.

Rudely stare.

Drool like a baby.

Listen to that crunching and smacking … damn loud!

The doggish growl of your stomach scares and quiets the catty noise in your head.

Food for thought.

Futuristically yours,

Har+new

They Can’t Get Under Your Skin If It’s Thick

Dear Har-old,

Journalist Sydney J. Harris said, “If a small thing has the power to make you angry, does that not indicate something about your size?”

Har-old, they can’t get under your skin if it’s thick!

Become the “elephant in the room.”

Forgive but never forget.

Look constantly to the past that haunts your kitchen cabinets.

Negative criticism, jokes at your expense, disappointments, disheartening moments, disillusions, failures, losses, etc.

Though not to let them eat away at you and cloud your reason.

But to give you a “I heard it all ear,” a “I’ve seen it all eye,” a “I’ve been through it all mind.”

This will thicken your skin so much, that of the 206 bones in your body, people and things will ONLY be able to hit your funny bone.

Laugh with them … then laugh at them.

Train yourself to take nothing personal.

Do not be so vain!

Control your emotional responses.

You are a mind with a body; not a heart with a body.

Being sensitive, paranoid, defensive and subjective will thin you, Har-old.

Be the slippery soap that cannot be held: Let no one or nothing dry you up, or  keep you in their “palm.”

Futuristically yours,

Har+new