Category Archives: Miscellany
Minette
Minette from Dickie Beau on Vimeo.
A tidy desk
Barb cleaned out her office today. She started practicing law in August, 1990 and retires June 30. Sort of. (She’ll be on some national board for a couple of years). Next week it’s off to NYC for some conference but come July 1 she’s a woman of leisure. These photos of her desk tell the (a) story.
Dead Air
Dead Air
The circus sounded louder, before it came to town.
The trumpeting pachyderm I was to ride, deafening.
But listening from the wings of the not-so-Bigtop,
The small town crowd made anxious sounds,
Then delighted gasps, to see me astride the tiny beast,
My red high tops dragging lightly through the sawdust.
Judging the beauty of little girls needs quiet.
Not the angry feed of mothers, charging backstage
To rescue little also-rans through the band room door.
Experienced masters of such ceremonies pretend
We do not hear their shame.
But the loudest sound is the tick, tick, tick
Of the song that ended while I was gone.
This room, this Studio, must never be silent.
Can they hear my panic as I bring the air
Back from the dead?
Journals
I’ve been blogging since February, 2002, and for most of that time I equated the effort with keeping a diary or journal. I was wrong. I came to this conclusion after reading back through some of my journals from the early eighties. (Index below)
I was struck by the personal, private tone of these entries. I would not have wanted to share these thoughts with others, even if there had been a way (Internet, blogs, etc). I usually wrote longhand in a spiral bound notebook. Once in a while I’d type an entry on my manual typewriter.
Reading my thoughts from thirty years ago feels almost… intrusive. That was a very different person. He was anxious and prone to worry. He drank too much ( or thought it did. He worried about it). He lacked self confidence. I feel my shoulders tense as I read these entries. I suspect writing this stuff down was a way of coping. I wish I could time travel back and leave a “note from your future self” telling him to relax. It turns out great in the end.
The image above is from an entry on May 14, 1984. Just a couple of weeks after I accepted the job I just retired from (after 29 years). I’m putting all of this stuff in my Google Drive and sharing it with family.
After a dozen years of blogging publicly, I don’t expect to return to the the diary format, but David Cain has some interesting thoughts on the value of putting one’s personal thoughts down on paper:
“The simple act of writing out a thought keeps it still long enough for you to get a good look at it. Once it’s there in front of you, you can decide if it’s true, and whether you ought to do anything about it.”
Journal entries from 1983-1985
How not to look ugly on a webcam
Follow the ball
NRA Hypnosis
Sunsets: No two alike
Do I really need opinions?
Opinion: a view or judgment formed about something, not necessarily based on fact or knowledge.
I have a lot of opinions. On lots of topics. Politics, religion, climate change, NSA, gun violence, racism, the Middle East, poverty, and on and on and on. But I’ve decided I don’t really need opinions. But is it possible to NOT have opinions. More on that in a moment.
What are my opinions based on (if not fact or knowledge)? Views expressed by family and friends (as a child and throughout life); personal experience; reading; media. What am I overlooking?
Does it even make sense to ask how “accurate” my opinions are? Can opinions be “valid?” I really don’t see how. Too fluid. I might be big on gun control today and change my mind after someone breaks into my home.
When do I NEED opinions? In the voting booth? Discussions in the coffee shop? Does my having an opinion on any of the topics above make a real difference? I don’t think so. Actions make a difference but not opinions. Do you have to have an opinion before you act? Perhaps.
I’ve concluded opinions have NO real value or use. But is not having an opinion even an option? Can I function without having opinions? Are opinions so much a part of the fabric of who we are we can’t help but have and express them? Is it possible to “catch” myself having an opinion… and then deciding NOT to?
Opinions seem like dead weight to me. Like lugging around a backpack full of rocks. What would it feel like to set that backpack down?
I’m going to write each of my cherished opinions on a rock, put it in a backpack, and carry that backpack around for a week. When I hear myself expressing an opinion (verbally or mentally) I’m going to open the backpack and find that opinion/rock and hold it until I’m done.
You’re just kidding yourself, Mays. You might not EXPRESS your opinions but you still HAVE them. True. But for starters, I’d settle for not spraying my opinions on others. And just being aware of when I’m under the influence of an opinion.
I’ll let you know how this little experiment goes.