Daily Prompt: Outstanding in a Field, With Flowers

Chuck Jones is a genius.

If you are not a Merry Melodies/Looney Tunes fan, you may or may not know who he is.

You may also not have experienced the joy of a gem of a story called “Rocket-bye Baby,” a cartoon about baby-switching:

Yob, in all his greeny finest. If I had been he, my name would have been Lrig.

You can see it by clicking here, but be sure to turn on your pop-up blocker!!!! You have been warned; the cartoon is great, but the site unfortunately has this weird thing where if you click anywhere on the page, you get at least two pop-ups. Blech.

If you would prefer to simply read the synopsis, feel free to click here for the whole story.

Yob was the greatest baby on Earth at the time but he freaked his parents (and everyone else) out.

I understand completely.

So, you may or may not be wondering, what in the universe and all its galaxies does this have to do with the question of the day from our besties, the Pixies over at the Daily Prompt? First off, they asked

When was the last time you really stood out in a crowd? Are you comfortable in that position, or do you wish you could fade into the woodwork?

I have, in one way or another, stood out in a crowd since birth. I shared somewhere in the blogosphere before that my Nana taught me to read from the King James Version of the Bible when I was four; that right there is enough to cause some incredibly wonderful stand-outtage. I read faster than many my age for a long while, to the point of boycotting Sunday School for a bit (gasp!) because there was no class for me; I was around 11 or 12 (the only young person of that age in the church at the time as I remember it–as if the  then-nonexistent-tween-years aren’t weird enough) and I was too old for the children’s class but deemed too young for the teen class. I made enough noise that I was permitted to go to the teen class, where I still out-read everyone. I couldn’t get anyone to agree to let me go to the adult class, so I started a boycott.

In high school I had the pleasure of going on an exchange program to England and came back with at least a thousand pounds (in weight, not cash) of albums and cassette tapes (remember those?), which saved my parents the headache of hearing me yowl about wanting to go to the mall that was in the neighboring county in order to visit the only record store probably on the entire DelMarVa peninsula that had an import section.

“Is It Live, or Is It Memorex?” You. could. still. love. me…

I also returned with a proper understanding of how to wear a mohawk (which I did–most of the time it was blue), combat boots (which I did), and the facial expression of the oppressed masses (which I did, even though I wasn’t old enough to be indignant about my own mistreatment…that was a few years off still).

And then there was that whole high school graduation thing. I was the one on the field who had decorated her mortar.

To the dude on the right–that. is. fabulous. I wish I had thought of writing that on mine so I could have made my parents even MORE mortified than they were. I think mine simply and elegantly said “Outta Here.”

My undergraduate college years were equally as horrific in the sense that I never fit in.

That is until I found the radio station, became an on-air dj (when dj’s actually did more than talk–we had to spin the hits, which meant dashing occasionally out of the studio to go find the perfect song to add to a set. Not that I ever had to do that. *Cough*. My demo “tape” was done on reel-to-reel. CD’s were the stuff of imagination), and spent every waking and sleeping moment there. Ah, love!

And then I got old, but kept that thing. What was it? Oh, yeah, music. In fact, Dogglounge Radio is streaming even as I type these words. There are some other things I kept also, like my weird sense of humor (who else do you know that quotes lines from the original “Day the Earth Stood Still” and laughs at herself? Huh?).

Spacey goodness: From left, Klatu and Michael Rennie. Golly, ain't they a dream team!
Spacey goodness: From left, Klatu and Michael Rennie. Golly, ain’t they a dream team!

And now that I’ve spent the last almost three years with my hair in dreadlocks, I am often out-standing/standing-out, at least in the coiffure department.

There are of course times that I would prefer not to stand out and it seems I can’t help it. Sigh.

But there’s nothing wrong with standing out/out-standing, especially if you are at least a bit comfy in your own skin. That’s when you’re cookin’ with gas, top of the heap, outstanding in a field with flowers.

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    1. Hmmm…not sure what that’s about; I checked the post preview on multiple browsers and various technology (tablet, laptop, mobile) and I could see it. I went in and updated the photo nonetheless. Hopefully you can see it now 🙂

    1. 😀 I love it! At my school and in my family, a “young lady simply didn’t do those sorts of things.” Bah, I say; this young lady did 😉