This one was just too good to pass up...
Name Three Things You Wouldn't Be Surprised To Discover About Andy's Past?
Have a good weekend!
Friday, March 31, 2006
Thursday, March 30, 2006
The Politics of Me
This is a response to Sue who asked me about my politics yesterday, indirectly, while declaring herself my biggest fan. I am flattered, of course, to have such a fan in my corner, though I am clearly nothing to write home about. I happen to agree with Sue's assessment of me. And I can only guess that she is but the first of many who will see me for the wonderful person I've always known that I am. Or... she is a plant. A fake person in the liking of J.T. LeRoy created by a benevolent government conspiracy to distract me from my hard scrabble mental existence and keep me politically sedated. Either way, keep up the good words. Occasionally its nice to take your ego out for a spin.
Andy has declared me a moderate politically, though I suspect that many people outside California would probably call me a liberal with some conservative tendencies. The fact that I'm from California would be enough to convince them of that assessment as most people in this country think we're all hippies. To that I say, picture Arnold Schwarzenegger with blond hair down to his ass, smoking a bong, and saying, "Peace brother!" Okay... maybe we are all hippies.
In general I believe in a very old school idea of democracy. I believe that our leaders govern by consent of the people and that their primary task is to serve the good of the people - all of the people - all of the time. I don't think they have any right to tell us what to think, how to think, or what to do with our own personal lives except where it interferes with their primary task. I don't believe their judgements about the good of the people should be based on anything other than logic and common sense. As common sense and logic are based very much on a current view of the world, there has to be a flexability to the decision making process that allows for changes to the law and to our opinions. When it comes to leadership, I look for good intelligent people who not only have good ideas, but also have the dynamic will to make those ideas a reality.
That being a general statement, I thought I'd give some quick views on more specific issues. These are all complicated issues and so my answers, as needs be, are very generalized.
The biggest hot button issue is abortion and abortion rights. By the definition of those who set the terms, I guess I would be considered Pro-Choice. But I really hate that term. I am, by nature and by religion, pro-life and I think most people are as well. However, logic and common sense tell me that in the real world, not every child will be welcome by every parent and that it might be far better for that child to never be born at all than to suffer in this world for no reason. I don't know that I could ever make that decision. But, being a male, its not my decision to make - not for myself or for anyone else. So while I personally think that abortion is wrong, I'm not qualified to make that decision for anyone else. Until we come up with a system whereby every child born will be taken care of and loved all over the world, I don't think we can force women to have children they don't want.
During Gulf War I, when I was in the Navy, a big issue that came up was Flag Burning. As a veteran and a lover of America, I find the idea of Flag Burning abhorrent - a real slap in the face - and I question the loyalty and honor of any American that burns one. However, my job as a soldier and as a citizen is to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States of America - a constitution that honors the rights of its citizens to freedom of speech and expression. If we truly honor this document then we have to let people burn American flags. We just don't have to like it.
My people came to this country in the early 1800's and came west during the Gold Rush. They are immigrants and I suspect they came here legally, but I can't confirm that. Every generation has had to deal with immigration issues. Really, there are two sides of the problem - Prevention and Support. How do we keep unwanted people out? And what do we do with the illegal immigrants that are already here? Any comprehensive plan needs to address these problems separately. What we don't want to do is create a large underground sub-class of Americans who are hungry, desperate, uneducated, and unknown. That is the quickest path to instability that I know.
When I went to school, they talked of America as being one big melting pot. Apparently that tread on the toes of those people who wanted to embrace their unique cultures. Instead of one nation, under God, we've become one nation of white Americans, one nation of African Americans, one nation of Asian Americans (see sub-classes of Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, etc...) and so on. This nation is never going to go forward until it learns to come together as one. We need to stop being separate Americans and just be Americans. Its time for Affirmative Action to die.
I signed the petition to allow for Medicinal Pot. I wasn't going to at first because I told the petition guy that allowing people free access to marijuana would throw open the flood gates. His response was a classic example of common sense. He said, "If you haven't tried marijuana now, what makes you think you'd try it when it was legal?" Indeed, it has been legal in California, at least, for the past four or five years and there hasn't been a mad rush of people trying to cheat the system to get Pot. Alcohol causes much greater numbers of deaths and accidents, but it hasn't been criminalized in 75 years. Its time we changed our drug policy.
I am a great believer in a proposal made by Robert Heinlein in Starship Troopers - that no one receive the Franchise unless they first do work for their government. In Switzerland, Russia, Israel, and many other places around the world, military service is compulsory. I'm not for that - but I think that should be an option. I think all people should work for the government in one capacity or another for a minimum of one year. It should not be mandatory. But it should be a requirement before receiving the right to vote. When people earn their right to vote, I think they'll take their responsibility much greater.
Many people know my views on the War in Iraq, but I'll take this moment to explain them. This is not a just war. Saddam Hussein is a right bastard - no doubt about it - but he's certainly not the only one (so there goes that justification). The people of Iraq were certainly oppressed, but they're not the only ones either (so there goes that justification). Iraq supported terrorists, but they're not the only ones (so there goes that justification). Iraq may have had weapons of mass destruction, but they're not the only ones (so there goes that justification). And to tick off a few more, they were not a threat to the United States, there was no evidence that they had anything to do with Al Queda or the Taliban or the attacks on 9/11, and they had been cooperating (somewhat) with the United Nations. So, what, exactly, was our justification for going to war? I can't tell you because it keeps changing. It keeps changing because there was never any firm justification in the first place. We went to war with Iraq, quite frankly, because that's what Bush wanted to do from before he was elected. He not only proposed it, he made it a part of his platform when running for office. If elected, He was going to solve the Iraq problem. Well, short sided thinking has caused us to be in the mess that we're in now. Do you think Bush cares? No. Its not his children that are dying over there. I had no problem with the first Gulf War, or really, for any other war the US has ever fought because the reasons were clear for fighting them - whether you agreed with them or not. This war never had a good reason and so we are killing and being killed for no good reason. We are the agressors. We are in the wrong. And that is not a place the people of America should ever be.
This sort of brings me to the next subject, what I think of the current government. I think you all know how I feel about the Weenie in Chief. I won't be getting any Christmas Cards from him anytime soon. But I am not an anarchist, nor do I for once believe that impeaching him would solve any problems. The problems are not with one regime or another being in charge. The problems are with the whole government. Nobody is leading. Everyone is off doing their own little thing. Everyone is reacting. Nobody is in charge. This is clearly evident in Katrina where we had three days of blame before we had one day of relief. If our current government was running NASA when the Apollo 13 problems occurred, those astronauts would still be up there waiting for a fact finding grand jury to be convened to assess what went wrong and who is to blame. Whatever happened to the days when politicians spent more time talking about the issues than about each other? When Phil Angelides political ad begins with, "He fought Governor Schwarzenegger harder than any other politician..." but what the hell did he do for us? Did he fix the levy's? Did he fund the schools? Did he get the roads fixed? Did he actually DO anything? I'm a Democrat by enrollment, but I'm actually pissed off at both sides on just about every issue - not because of the stands the politicians take, but because neither side is willing to do anything about those stands. Its rather depressing.
Recently, the Presbyterian Church gathered conservative and liberal leaders together and told them to come together to discern the will of God on several hot button divisive issues within the church. These people that they threw together were some of the most vocal leaders on either side of the debate. After a year and a half, they finally released their report. And the gist of that report, "It doesn't matter what we think, its God's will that must be done and our discernment of God's will that matters the most - and how can we tell you what God's will is, you must discern that for yourself." Naturally, nobody really liked that answer. But the truth of the matter is, its a completely logical and common sense answer to the tough questions that we face. Our politics, like our religion, are personal and important to us. They are based on our upbringing, background, and our experiences in life. To tell someone else what they must do or think because you say that is what is right is not what this country is all about. The essence of a democracy is that everyone must be allowed their say in the debate in order to discern the will of the governed.
I hope that gives everyone some sort of glimpse into my mind. I didn't do this as a soapbox excercise, but just as an affirmation of what I believe and the way my mind works. I am open to discussion about any of these topics, but please, no arguments. We can all agree to disagree. That's why this country is the greatest on Earth.
Andy has declared me a moderate politically, though I suspect that many people outside California would probably call me a liberal with some conservative tendencies. The fact that I'm from California would be enough to convince them of that assessment as most people in this country think we're all hippies. To that I say, picture Arnold Schwarzenegger with blond hair down to his ass, smoking a bong, and saying, "Peace brother!" Okay... maybe we are all hippies.
In general I believe in a very old school idea of democracy. I believe that our leaders govern by consent of the people and that their primary task is to serve the good of the people - all of the people - all of the time. I don't think they have any right to tell us what to think, how to think, or what to do with our own personal lives except where it interferes with their primary task. I don't believe their judgements about the good of the people should be based on anything other than logic and common sense. As common sense and logic are based very much on a current view of the world, there has to be a flexability to the decision making process that allows for changes to the law and to our opinions. When it comes to leadership, I look for good intelligent people who not only have good ideas, but also have the dynamic will to make those ideas a reality.
That being a general statement, I thought I'd give some quick views on more specific issues. These are all complicated issues and so my answers, as needs be, are very generalized.
The biggest hot button issue is abortion and abortion rights. By the definition of those who set the terms, I guess I would be considered Pro-Choice. But I really hate that term. I am, by nature and by religion, pro-life and I think most people are as well. However, logic and common sense tell me that in the real world, not every child will be welcome by every parent and that it might be far better for that child to never be born at all than to suffer in this world for no reason. I don't know that I could ever make that decision. But, being a male, its not my decision to make - not for myself or for anyone else. So while I personally think that abortion is wrong, I'm not qualified to make that decision for anyone else. Until we come up with a system whereby every child born will be taken care of and loved all over the world, I don't think we can force women to have children they don't want.
During Gulf War I, when I was in the Navy, a big issue that came up was Flag Burning. As a veteran and a lover of America, I find the idea of Flag Burning abhorrent - a real slap in the face - and I question the loyalty and honor of any American that burns one. However, my job as a soldier and as a citizen is to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States of America - a constitution that honors the rights of its citizens to freedom of speech and expression. If we truly honor this document then we have to let people burn American flags. We just don't have to like it.
My people came to this country in the early 1800's and came west during the Gold Rush. They are immigrants and I suspect they came here legally, but I can't confirm that. Every generation has had to deal with immigration issues. Really, there are two sides of the problem - Prevention and Support. How do we keep unwanted people out? And what do we do with the illegal immigrants that are already here? Any comprehensive plan needs to address these problems separately. What we don't want to do is create a large underground sub-class of Americans who are hungry, desperate, uneducated, and unknown. That is the quickest path to instability that I know.
When I went to school, they talked of America as being one big melting pot. Apparently that tread on the toes of those people who wanted to embrace their unique cultures. Instead of one nation, under God, we've become one nation of white Americans, one nation of African Americans, one nation of Asian Americans (see sub-classes of Chinese, Japanese, Filipino, etc...) and so on. This nation is never going to go forward until it learns to come together as one. We need to stop being separate Americans and just be Americans. Its time for Affirmative Action to die.
I signed the petition to allow for Medicinal Pot. I wasn't going to at first because I told the petition guy that allowing people free access to marijuana would throw open the flood gates. His response was a classic example of common sense. He said, "If you haven't tried marijuana now, what makes you think you'd try it when it was legal?" Indeed, it has been legal in California, at least, for the past four or five years and there hasn't been a mad rush of people trying to cheat the system to get Pot. Alcohol causes much greater numbers of deaths and accidents, but it hasn't been criminalized in 75 years. Its time we changed our drug policy.
I am a great believer in a proposal made by Robert Heinlein in Starship Troopers - that no one receive the Franchise unless they first do work for their government. In Switzerland, Russia, Israel, and many other places around the world, military service is compulsory. I'm not for that - but I think that should be an option. I think all people should work for the government in one capacity or another for a minimum of one year. It should not be mandatory. But it should be a requirement before receiving the right to vote. When people earn their right to vote, I think they'll take their responsibility much greater.
Many people know my views on the War in Iraq, but I'll take this moment to explain them. This is not a just war. Saddam Hussein is a right bastard - no doubt about it - but he's certainly not the only one (so there goes that justification). The people of Iraq were certainly oppressed, but they're not the only ones either (so there goes that justification). Iraq supported terrorists, but they're not the only ones (so there goes that justification). Iraq may have had weapons of mass destruction, but they're not the only ones (so there goes that justification). And to tick off a few more, they were not a threat to the United States, there was no evidence that they had anything to do with Al Queda or the Taliban or the attacks on 9/11, and they had been cooperating (somewhat) with the United Nations. So, what, exactly, was our justification for going to war? I can't tell you because it keeps changing. It keeps changing because there was never any firm justification in the first place. We went to war with Iraq, quite frankly, because that's what Bush wanted to do from before he was elected. He not only proposed it, he made it a part of his platform when running for office. If elected, He was going to solve the Iraq problem. Well, short sided thinking has caused us to be in the mess that we're in now. Do you think Bush cares? No. Its not his children that are dying over there. I had no problem with the first Gulf War, or really, for any other war the US has ever fought because the reasons were clear for fighting them - whether you agreed with them or not. This war never had a good reason and so we are killing and being killed for no good reason. We are the agressors. We are in the wrong. And that is not a place the people of America should ever be.
This sort of brings me to the next subject, what I think of the current government. I think you all know how I feel about the Weenie in Chief. I won't be getting any Christmas Cards from him anytime soon. But I am not an anarchist, nor do I for once believe that impeaching him would solve any problems. The problems are not with one regime or another being in charge. The problems are with the whole government. Nobody is leading. Everyone is off doing their own little thing. Everyone is reacting. Nobody is in charge. This is clearly evident in Katrina where we had three days of blame before we had one day of relief. If our current government was running NASA when the Apollo 13 problems occurred, those astronauts would still be up there waiting for a fact finding grand jury to be convened to assess what went wrong and who is to blame. Whatever happened to the days when politicians spent more time talking about the issues than about each other? When Phil Angelides political ad begins with, "He fought Governor Schwarzenegger harder than any other politician..." but what the hell did he do for us? Did he fix the levy's? Did he fund the schools? Did he get the roads fixed? Did he actually DO anything? I'm a Democrat by enrollment, but I'm actually pissed off at both sides on just about every issue - not because of the stands the politicians take, but because neither side is willing to do anything about those stands. Its rather depressing.
Recently, the Presbyterian Church gathered conservative and liberal leaders together and told them to come together to discern the will of God on several hot button divisive issues within the church. These people that they threw together were some of the most vocal leaders on either side of the debate. After a year and a half, they finally released their report. And the gist of that report, "It doesn't matter what we think, its God's will that must be done and our discernment of God's will that matters the most - and how can we tell you what God's will is, you must discern that for yourself." Naturally, nobody really liked that answer. But the truth of the matter is, its a completely logical and common sense answer to the tough questions that we face. Our politics, like our religion, are personal and important to us. They are based on our upbringing, background, and our experiences in life. To tell someone else what they must do or think because you say that is what is right is not what this country is all about. The essence of a democracy is that everyone must be allowed their say in the debate in order to discern the will of the governed.
I hope that gives everyone some sort of glimpse into my mind. I didn't do this as a soapbox excercise, but just as an affirmation of what I believe and the way my mind works. I am open to discussion about any of these topics, but please, no arguments. We can all agree to disagree. That's why this country is the greatest on Earth.
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
The Glass is 3/4ths Empty
You'd think that by now someone would have invented a cure for mass stupidity. But apparently the lowest common denominator still rules this country and as a result, this nation is quickly sliding backwards into an abyss where Mad Magazine is intellectual reading.
I kid you not.
Last night, on not one, not two, but three local news stations, I heard the following comments, "Tonight, there will be a full solar eclipse. You won't be able to see it..." Now, last I checked, it actually needs to be daylight to witness a solar eclipse - seeing as how the SUN is a participant in said eclipse. Being the middle of the night here in the United States, seeing a solar eclipse would be a problem. I'm curious, though, how many people went immediately to their windows to see if they could view the thing in the sky?
Now, I like to think - recent proclamations not withstanding - that people in Northern California are intelligent. We watch PBS more often than people in Idaho, for instance. We have opera and ballet and some wierd fantasy animal dress up festival every year. We created computers and martini's and the UN. We have been the home of countless great American authors and playwrights. So, when exactly did we devolve to the point where we need to be reminded that you can't see a solar eclipse at night?
It must be all the legal aliens that have moved into Northern California in the last couple of years - New Yorkers and Los Angelenos and other people of questionable mental standing. I'm all for building a wall to keep them out, even if it means that I have to act rudely to perfect strangers, drive crazily on the freeway, or call it Frisco myself. Personally, I think any non Northern Californian who moves to this area ought to be thrown in jail along with anyone who helps them move here. Our property values may be going through the roof, but our intellectual values are dropping like a stone.
I kid you not.
Last night, on not one, not two, but three local news stations, I heard the following comments, "Tonight, there will be a full solar eclipse. You won't be able to see it..." Now, last I checked, it actually needs to be daylight to witness a solar eclipse - seeing as how the SUN is a participant in said eclipse. Being the middle of the night here in the United States, seeing a solar eclipse would be a problem. I'm curious, though, how many people went immediately to their windows to see if they could view the thing in the sky?
Now, I like to think - recent proclamations not withstanding - that people in Northern California are intelligent. We watch PBS more often than people in Idaho, for instance. We have opera and ballet and some wierd fantasy animal dress up festival every year. We created computers and martini's and the UN. We have been the home of countless great American authors and playwrights. So, when exactly did we devolve to the point where we need to be reminded that you can't see a solar eclipse at night?
It must be all the legal aliens that have moved into Northern California in the last couple of years - New Yorkers and Los Angelenos and other people of questionable mental standing. I'm all for building a wall to keep them out, even if it means that I have to act rudely to perfect strangers, drive crazily on the freeway, or call it Frisco myself. Personally, I think any non Northern Californian who moves to this area ought to be thrown in jail along with anyone who helps them move here. Our property values may be going through the roof, but our intellectual values are dropping like a stone.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Your help required...
I am prepping one of several new stories now that the end is in sight for my novel. This one particular story that I'm preparing is so delicious to me (i.e. the story may not be any good, but the preparation is a lot of fun!) that I can't wait to share it with you all. I'll probably serialize it on my website come September. However, in the meantime, I need your help.
Without going into a lot of detail, the basic premise of the story is that its about a paradise lost - a human created community that is as near to perfect as possible. What I'd like from each of you are some ideas about what you think would be a characteristic of a perfect community.
Clearly, I think a perfect community would be a city wherein everyone had a place and a purpose and that everyone was happy in that place and in that purpose. We idolize simple existences like Mayberry precisely because of this point. Not everyone there was a perfect person. Otis was often in the drunk tank. But everyone had their place and was not penalized for that place. There were no haves and havenots. Everyone was a have. Everyone looked after everyone else. Such a community would by necessity be equal.
So, help me out. Let me know what you think and what you'd add to our list of perfect community requirements. Don't be afraid to be silly... as this is one of those types of stories. And no San Dimas quotes from Bill and Ted either. We already know that the bowling scores would be up and the miniature golf scores would be down ;)
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Without going into a lot of detail, the basic premise of the story is that its about a paradise lost - a human created community that is as near to perfect as possible. What I'd like from each of you are some ideas about what you think would be a characteristic of a perfect community.
Clearly, I think a perfect community would be a city wherein everyone had a place and a purpose and that everyone was happy in that place and in that purpose. We idolize simple existences like Mayberry precisely because of this point. Not everyone there was a perfect person. Otis was often in the drunk tank. But everyone had their place and was not penalized for that place. There were no haves and havenots. Everyone was a have. Everyone looked after everyone else. Such a community would by necessity be equal.
So, help me out. Let me know what you think and what you'd add to our list of perfect community requirements. Don't be afraid to be silly... as this is one of those types of stories. And no San Dimas quotes from Bill and Ted either. We already know that the bowling scores would be up and the miniature golf scores would be down ;)
Looking forward to hearing from you.
Monday, March 27, 2006
My Pinto
We all know a Pinto. Someone who has taken forever to get their driver's license. My sister is my Pinto. But that has changed now and I shall have to pick on someone else.
Not only did my sister finally pass the driving test today and qualify to legally run people onto the sidewalk, but she did so with a perfect 100% score. I know of no one who passed the driving test with a 100%. Hell, I passed with a 71%... and I had to apologize to those nuns for years afterwards. So my sister is perfect.
When she first took the test, way back when, she promptly pulled out of the DMV driveway into ongoing traffic the wrong way. Instant failure. Once, when I was giving her a driving lesson, she zipped through an intersection without looking and nearly hit a car. And when I tried to explain to her what happened, she was so intent on telling me that I was wrong that she nearly hit someone at the next intersection as well.
For my sister it has been a long struggle. Though I know she has not really needed to have a driver's license before, I think with two kids she was finally starting to see the need for one. Constant nagging from her family didn't do anything for her... it was the younger set that drove her to the DMV. If her son could learn to swim, she could learn to drive. So, once more into the breach...
I knew she was ready to pass the last time I went someplace with her. She was driving her car (with my Mom) and I was driving my car. She followed me to the Costco and I didn't bat an eye once at her driving ability. I knew then that she had finally overcome her confidence problems and her inability to see cars in intersections and that she was ready to take the test.
So, to my Sister, a hearty congratulations. And to the rest of you a warning... if you don't like the way she drives, stay off the sidewalk! ;)
Not only did my sister finally pass the driving test today and qualify to legally run people onto the sidewalk, but she did so with a perfect 100% score. I know of no one who passed the driving test with a 100%. Hell, I passed with a 71%... and I had to apologize to those nuns for years afterwards. So my sister is perfect.
When she first took the test, way back when, she promptly pulled out of the DMV driveway into ongoing traffic the wrong way. Instant failure. Once, when I was giving her a driving lesson, she zipped through an intersection without looking and nearly hit a car. And when I tried to explain to her what happened, she was so intent on telling me that I was wrong that she nearly hit someone at the next intersection as well.
For my sister it has been a long struggle. Though I know she has not really needed to have a driver's license before, I think with two kids she was finally starting to see the need for one. Constant nagging from her family didn't do anything for her... it was the younger set that drove her to the DMV. If her son could learn to swim, she could learn to drive. So, once more into the breach...
I knew she was ready to pass the last time I went someplace with her. She was driving her car (with my Mom) and I was driving my car. She followed me to the Costco and I didn't bat an eye once at her driving ability. I knew then that she had finally overcome her confidence problems and her inability to see cars in intersections and that she was ready to take the test.
So, to my Sister, a hearty congratulations. And to the rest of you a warning... if you don't like the way she drives, stay off the sidewalk! ;)
The Tough Questions
Think you know the Bible? Think you know what its all about? Comfortable with your religion and your country and your life? Then you've probably failed to ask the tough questions.
I often think of that poor guy who thought he knew it all. He was rich, handsome, capable and he was hip. Religiously hip. He heard of this dude in Nazareth who was telling people how to get into Heaven. He decided to go ask this dude how he could get into Heaven - what could it hurt? I mean, even with a tithe of 10% or 20% for that matter, there'd be plenty to go around. Not fearing the answer in the least, the man found this rabbi and asked him what it would take for him to get into Heaven. "Sell all your possessions and follow me. For I tell you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to get into Heaven." Whoah! Not exactly the sort of answer he was looking for. I'm sure his response was, "Uh, never mind. Forget I asked."
We learn, don't we? We know better than to ask those questions. We know better because we know that we are not going to like the answers. When it says that we should feed the hungry, house the homeless and visit the sick and those in prison... it doesn't really mean that, does it? I mean, you don't include homeless people in that group? Or the mentally unstable? Right? No, wait... don't answer that. I don't want to know.
I am in the third act of my novel now and I suppose one of the reasons I stopped a few weeks back (aside from the whole wilderness thing) was that I'm at that point where the characters start asking the tough questions. You never know how prepared you are to finish a book until you ask a tough question. Because in fiction, just like in real life, sometimes the answers aren't what you expect. The notes for the scene said that the character asks such and such question and gets such and such answer. No problem, right? Except that when I wrote the question, I realized that the answer wouldn't work. It didn't make sense. And the answer that did make sense took me and my novel into places I wasn't expecting and I was uncomfortable with the implications. I had to stop and rethink the idea of asking the tough questions. Maybe just a few softball questions for a change. Something nice and easy. Does Jesus love me? Yes, Jesus loves me... the Bible tells me so.
Complacency isn't a condition of laziness or low moral character - its a fear of asking the tough questions, because the answers may not be what we expect. We don't want to be moved off our perch. We like the view. If we don't ask the questions about what our country is really doing in Iraq, we don't have to face the potentially troubling answer. If we don't ask whether we weren't somehow partially to blame for 9/11, then we can sit on our moral high horse for a while and complain that we're so abused by the rest of the world. If we don't give a man the opportunity to answer to serious steroid using allegations, we can rest assured that our questions are enough to convict him. We won't ever know what the answers are if we don't ask the questions. And if we don't get the answers, we can not move forward and grow. We can not come right before the world and before God.
Entertainment isn't always about fun and escape. Sometimes, for the sake of drama, we are forced to ask the big questions - regardless of where the answers may lead us.
I often think of that poor guy who thought he knew it all. He was rich, handsome, capable and he was hip. Religiously hip. He heard of this dude in Nazareth who was telling people how to get into Heaven. He decided to go ask this dude how he could get into Heaven - what could it hurt? I mean, even with a tithe of 10% or 20% for that matter, there'd be plenty to go around. Not fearing the answer in the least, the man found this rabbi and asked him what it would take for him to get into Heaven. "Sell all your possessions and follow me. For I tell you, it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to get into Heaven." Whoah! Not exactly the sort of answer he was looking for. I'm sure his response was, "Uh, never mind. Forget I asked."
We learn, don't we? We know better than to ask those questions. We know better because we know that we are not going to like the answers. When it says that we should feed the hungry, house the homeless and visit the sick and those in prison... it doesn't really mean that, does it? I mean, you don't include homeless people in that group? Or the mentally unstable? Right? No, wait... don't answer that. I don't want to know.
I am in the third act of my novel now and I suppose one of the reasons I stopped a few weeks back (aside from the whole wilderness thing) was that I'm at that point where the characters start asking the tough questions. You never know how prepared you are to finish a book until you ask a tough question. Because in fiction, just like in real life, sometimes the answers aren't what you expect. The notes for the scene said that the character asks such and such question and gets such and such answer. No problem, right? Except that when I wrote the question, I realized that the answer wouldn't work. It didn't make sense. And the answer that did make sense took me and my novel into places I wasn't expecting and I was uncomfortable with the implications. I had to stop and rethink the idea of asking the tough questions. Maybe just a few softball questions for a change. Something nice and easy. Does Jesus love me? Yes, Jesus loves me... the Bible tells me so.
Complacency isn't a condition of laziness or low moral character - its a fear of asking the tough questions, because the answers may not be what we expect. We don't want to be moved off our perch. We like the view. If we don't ask the questions about what our country is really doing in Iraq, we don't have to face the potentially troubling answer. If we don't ask whether we weren't somehow partially to blame for 9/11, then we can sit on our moral high horse for a while and complain that we're so abused by the rest of the world. If we don't give a man the opportunity to answer to serious steroid using allegations, we can rest assured that our questions are enough to convict him. We won't ever know what the answers are if we don't ask the questions. And if we don't get the answers, we can not move forward and grow. We can not come right before the world and before God.
Entertainment isn't always about fun and escape. Sometimes, for the sake of drama, we are forced to ask the big questions - regardless of where the answers may lead us.
Friday, March 24, 2006
Visiting The Church of Writing
Sometime this weekend, you'll discover this post. You'll be seated in front of your computer screen, not expecting much of a return, maybe an answer to a comment you left, maybe just a howdy, and wham! bam! there will be a new post. This will naturally floor you. Your jaw will likely drop. Who in their right mind... but the thought will fade as quickly as it explodes in your brain because you know that those words don't apply to the one known as ICON.
Vacation has been gentle. Soft rain caresses my windshield as I drive north to Mendocino. California is a shamrock green. The water flows off the hills like tap water into a hot bath. Gray skies embrace the mountains and the trees. I drive deep into the woods, swerving over roads that would take me days to hike. The ocean beckons me and at last is in my sight. I drive out to the very edge and climb the tower. A lighthouse that no longer serves its function has the best view of the Pacific Ocean. Seagulls and seals and whales and waves sing nearby. I follow the song south along the coast watching the sun edge closer to the surf until I can no longer feel my driving legs, then I skitter up an inlet, follow a river towards its source, and return home across an orange bridge.
Movies, basketball, restaurants - everyday things, mundane reality, that slips into my vacation dream and seek to corrupt it. I don't let it. I maintain the restful demeanor and absorb energy from around me. My internal balance is restoring. I feel the weight of the world shifting to a more comfortable position on my shoulders. There. That's it. I am almost back home.
I visited the Church of Writing two days ago. In words and pictures, I absorbed the Salinas Valley like the soft loam that nurtures a head of lettuce and adds its earthiness to the taste. I still have no idea how the great saint of this church manages to convey his everyday words in such poetry. Here is the true ideal of what I have always wanted to become. I feel intoxicated with the possibility of his prose - the thought that I might be able to write like him one day. This is not the mecca of writing or the vatican or the Jerusalem temple - it is just a church, dedicated to the concept of the written word as a meaning beyond mere conveyance of ideas. Though its principle saint is a local writer of some world renown, he is only a man who points the way to the ideal - that of the perfect story. He has worshipped at this trough. He has venerated its principles. But he never achieved true divinity in this calling. In his example, I hope to allow words to be my praise. But sometimes the plain word is best.
So, on Monday I went to Point Arenas Lighthouse. On Tuesday, I went to see V for Vendetta. On Wednesday, I went to the Steinbeck Center in Salinas. On Thursday, I worked at the NCAA Sweet Sixteen - Oakland Bracket. Today, I went to see Inside Man. Tomorrow, I shall work the Elite Eight. Sunday, I will go to church and bring my vacation to a close - and then back to work again.
I like the prose version better, but you can say a whole lot more in plain English.
Vacation has been gentle. Soft rain caresses my windshield as I drive north to Mendocino. California is a shamrock green. The water flows off the hills like tap water into a hot bath. Gray skies embrace the mountains and the trees. I drive deep into the woods, swerving over roads that would take me days to hike. The ocean beckons me and at last is in my sight. I drive out to the very edge and climb the tower. A lighthouse that no longer serves its function has the best view of the Pacific Ocean. Seagulls and seals and whales and waves sing nearby. I follow the song south along the coast watching the sun edge closer to the surf until I can no longer feel my driving legs, then I skitter up an inlet, follow a river towards its source, and return home across an orange bridge.
Movies, basketball, restaurants - everyday things, mundane reality, that slips into my vacation dream and seek to corrupt it. I don't let it. I maintain the restful demeanor and absorb energy from around me. My internal balance is restoring. I feel the weight of the world shifting to a more comfortable position on my shoulders. There. That's it. I am almost back home.
I visited the Church of Writing two days ago. In words and pictures, I absorbed the Salinas Valley like the soft loam that nurtures a head of lettuce and adds its earthiness to the taste. I still have no idea how the great saint of this church manages to convey his everyday words in such poetry. Here is the true ideal of what I have always wanted to become. I feel intoxicated with the possibility of his prose - the thought that I might be able to write like him one day. This is not the mecca of writing or the vatican or the Jerusalem temple - it is just a church, dedicated to the concept of the written word as a meaning beyond mere conveyance of ideas. Though its principle saint is a local writer of some world renown, he is only a man who points the way to the ideal - that of the perfect story. He has worshipped at this trough. He has venerated its principles. But he never achieved true divinity in this calling. In his example, I hope to allow words to be my praise. But sometimes the plain word is best.
So, on Monday I went to Point Arenas Lighthouse. On Tuesday, I went to see V for Vendetta. On Wednesday, I went to the Steinbeck Center in Salinas. On Thursday, I worked at the NCAA Sweet Sixteen - Oakland Bracket. Today, I went to see Inside Man. Tomorrow, I shall work the Elite Eight. Sunday, I will go to church and bring my vacation to a close - and then back to work again.
I like the prose version better, but you can say a whole lot more in plain English.
Friday, March 17, 2006
Last Category Until April
Okay, I'm doing a combined category for this weekend... think of it as one for each week...
So first up:
Three Worst Names For Ariel's Newborn Son?
and second category:
Three Restaurant Names That Would Make You Never Eat There?
Good luck. See you in a week.
So first up:
Three Worst Names For Ariel's Newborn Son?
and second category:
Three Restaurant Names That Would Make You Never Eat There?
Good luck. See you in a week.
Out of the Wilderness
I admit that I like trees and nature and perhaps I've become too comfortable here in the wilderness. At some point, self discovery becomes self indulgence and you must nip it in the bud and rejoin the world. I guess I've been there and done that, so its time to pack up my troubles and head back.
I hope that I have not troubled anyone with my wanderings. I think this trip to the wilderness was inevitable - a necessary part of a journey. I wrote in my journal the other day that years from now I would look back at this time and say to myself, "That was when I got really wonky right before I finished the Novel" But I cautioned myself to remember how important this trip to the wilderness was - not just to my mental state, but also to my soul.
I know what finishing this novel will mean to me. I've been carrying this burden around in my head for decades. Ask any of my friends and they will tell you that I have been a writer for as long as they've known me. Maybe they've just been flattering me all along (entirely possible... I am extremely gullible when it comes to flattery about how great a writer I am ;) but I suspect that they have expectations that someday I will not only finish this novel, but publish it and many more like it. I know my parents have expected this since I first showed an aptitude to write stories. My sister has expected it ever since I invented The Orphanage (Sorry, Heath, I had to get that fact out there ;) So, finishing this novel isn't just about my own expectations... it carries the expectations of so many others as well.
Expectations are funny things - more than wishes, less than prophesy - they encompass our view of the world and its natural order. We expect far more than we imagine and are truly amazed and troubled when our expectations are not met. I expected many amazing things for my life when I was younger and have lived a life of unexpected reality instead.
When I left High School, I expected that I would breeze through film school, become a famous writer/director, and be rich and famous to the end of time. I expected that I would marry Karen, have lots of kids, and live in a big fancy house. My expectations weren't entirely without merit. I ended high school with 10 complete novel length stories under my belt and a slew of short stories and other projects. I was looking to hone my craft as a writer and expand into film making.
What happened next was a story for another day, but I think you can see that I did not meet my expectations. When the last piece of the puzzle finally fell apart four years later and Karen and I broke up, I felt like Job sitting in the ash heap of my life. I had nothing of my expectations whatsoever. After some time spent in the wilderness, I reemerged with a new set of expectations. Sometimes, our stories do not go as planned, and we have to adjust to a new plan.
The disciples had very clear expectations for their friend, Jesus, and just imagine how much higher those expectations became when they realized that He was the Son of God. But Jesus had very different expectations for His life. I think He went into the wilderness to deal with the reality that His life had to be. He was tempted at the end with promises of riches, power, and... the ability to save Himself from the horrible tragedy that was to come. How tempting it must have been to know that He could, at any time, avoid His destiny. But He emerged from the wilderness with a clear expectation of what was to come. His friends and family had other ideas. They thought they knew what to expect. But they were wrong.
When Peter tells Jesus that He cannot die, Jesus replies, "Get behind me, Satan." Peter's expectations for Jesus were dashed. He was troubled by the implications of a new set of expectations. And even up to the end, Peter wanted to believe that Jesus was wrong and this his own expectations for Jesus were right. But expectations are not reality. Reality can be oh, so much better, or oh, so much worse than we ever imagined. To take expectations as reality is to only delude ourselves into accepting a pretty package that contains nothing inside but air. Jesus dashed our expecations and forced us to accept a reality that is infinitely better than one we could have ever imagined. In many ways the history of the world since that point has been a combination of those dashed expectations, and the reality it spawned.
I leave the wilderness now with a new reality, and a new set of expectations. I embrace my voice now. I understand my role in the creation act. I know who I am and what I believe. I know that reality will be far different from my expectations, but I am content with enjoying the experience of reality.
I am heading off into a physical wilderness now as I leave for vacation for the next week. When I come back, I will surely be recharged and raring to go. Everyone have a great week... I'm sure you'll see me here from time to time.
I hope that I have not troubled anyone with my wanderings. I think this trip to the wilderness was inevitable - a necessary part of a journey. I wrote in my journal the other day that years from now I would look back at this time and say to myself, "That was when I got really wonky right before I finished the Novel" But I cautioned myself to remember how important this trip to the wilderness was - not just to my mental state, but also to my soul.
I know what finishing this novel will mean to me. I've been carrying this burden around in my head for decades. Ask any of my friends and they will tell you that I have been a writer for as long as they've known me. Maybe they've just been flattering me all along (entirely possible... I am extremely gullible when it comes to flattery about how great a writer I am ;) but I suspect that they have expectations that someday I will not only finish this novel, but publish it and many more like it. I know my parents have expected this since I first showed an aptitude to write stories. My sister has expected it ever since I invented The Orphanage (Sorry, Heath, I had to get that fact out there ;) So, finishing this novel isn't just about my own expectations... it carries the expectations of so many others as well.
Expectations are funny things - more than wishes, less than prophesy - they encompass our view of the world and its natural order. We expect far more than we imagine and are truly amazed and troubled when our expectations are not met. I expected many amazing things for my life when I was younger and have lived a life of unexpected reality instead.
When I left High School, I expected that I would breeze through film school, become a famous writer/director, and be rich and famous to the end of time. I expected that I would marry Karen, have lots of kids, and live in a big fancy house. My expectations weren't entirely without merit. I ended high school with 10 complete novel length stories under my belt and a slew of short stories and other projects. I was looking to hone my craft as a writer and expand into film making.
What happened next was a story for another day, but I think you can see that I did not meet my expectations. When the last piece of the puzzle finally fell apart four years later and Karen and I broke up, I felt like Job sitting in the ash heap of my life. I had nothing of my expectations whatsoever. After some time spent in the wilderness, I reemerged with a new set of expectations. Sometimes, our stories do not go as planned, and we have to adjust to a new plan.
The disciples had very clear expectations for their friend, Jesus, and just imagine how much higher those expectations became when they realized that He was the Son of God. But Jesus had very different expectations for His life. I think He went into the wilderness to deal with the reality that His life had to be. He was tempted at the end with promises of riches, power, and... the ability to save Himself from the horrible tragedy that was to come. How tempting it must have been to know that He could, at any time, avoid His destiny. But He emerged from the wilderness with a clear expectation of what was to come. His friends and family had other ideas. They thought they knew what to expect. But they were wrong.
When Peter tells Jesus that He cannot die, Jesus replies, "Get behind me, Satan." Peter's expectations for Jesus were dashed. He was troubled by the implications of a new set of expectations. And even up to the end, Peter wanted to believe that Jesus was wrong and this his own expectations for Jesus were right. But expectations are not reality. Reality can be oh, so much better, or oh, so much worse than we ever imagined. To take expectations as reality is to only delude ourselves into accepting a pretty package that contains nothing inside but air. Jesus dashed our expecations and forced us to accept a reality that is infinitely better than one we could have ever imagined. In many ways the history of the world since that point has been a combination of those dashed expectations, and the reality it spawned.
I leave the wilderness now with a new reality, and a new set of expectations. I embrace my voice now. I understand my role in the creation act. I know who I am and what I believe. I know that reality will be far different from my expectations, but I am content with enjoying the experience of reality.
I am heading off into a physical wilderness now as I leave for vacation for the next week. When I come back, I will surely be recharged and raring to go. Everyone have a great week... I'm sure you'll see me here from time to time.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
In The Wilderness - Part Four
Politics has been on my mind a great deal this week - not as a result of anything the powers that be have done (although they surely raise eyebrows from time to time on both sides of the fence) but because of my wanderings in the wilderness. In the revelation that my Novel had taken over the story from me (We'll call it Levon - great name, Sue ;) I realized that one of the major things missing from the story was a big Why. If you recall the synopsis that I wrote a while back about the story, the main characters are drawn into a revolt against the government. While we've all had reasons to hate things that politicians do from time to time, none of us have joined a revolt recently because those things have only affected us. One of the questions I had wanted to answer in this book was, At what point would the American people rise up against the government? Levon didn't want to answer that question. Levon wanted to play it safe. Levon went through elaborate steps to explain individual reasons - honor, revenge, etc... But Levon didn't want to give a macro reason for large numbers of people to rise up against the US Government.
I've got 30 chapters to play with this idea. And I've got a few ideas that will work for the book. But the question that intrigues me is what would that thing be for me? What would make me so angry that I'd buy a gun and storm the nation's capitol? I mean, even if, as I suspect, the Bush Government lied to the American people about the war in Iraq, lied about the weapon's of mass destruction, put their political cronies in positions of power and wealth, and occupied a foreign nation just for the sake of oil money... I'd be darn tootin mad, but I doubt I'd start a revolution. The short answer to the question, of course, would be that the government would have to do something so drastic and so terrible as to deny me the ability to be me. They'd have to discard my beliefs. They'd have to deny my thoughts, feelings, and concerns as being completely pointless. They'd have to try to conceptually destroy who I am, even if they didn't try to do it physically.
Which raises the question, who am I? What are the things that I believe, that I hold so dear to my heart, that the loss of that belief would destroy me completely? Certainly my faith. This is not something that's negotiable. But, would I revolt if the government shut down my church? Or, worse, if the church I had known was to be taken over from within by the same people that were running the country? My belief in freedom and justice for all - not just the rich and able - would be high on that list. So, too, would my belief that all people deserve the right to the freedom of speech and expression - but I would temper this with the Clear and Present Danger clause that the Supreme Court has also applied. I guess most of the articles of the Bill of Rights would be high on that list. As much as I love this country and the principles it stands for, any attack on the Constitution of the United States, from without or within, would cause me to defend that article in the best way possible. I would take up arms to defend myself and my family as well. But these are all individual reasons based on perceived threats and get me no closer to understanding the things that I hold dear even when there is no perceived threat to them.
I love baseball and the sense of fair play. I love drama. I love the idea that things can turn out good. I like the idea of innocent until proven guilty - in the great drama of life, I have to hope in the underdog idea that things might not always be as they appear. I am always for open lines of communication - and peaceful posturing as a default. I think the UN is our best hope of survival. I think the Olympic Spirit is what is right in the world - friendly competition to determine who is best, during a time of world peace. I don't believe in anyone's superiority or their inferiority, though I am greatly annoyed by those who do think that. I find all people to be God's creatures and I try not to hold any animosity towards anyone, but I admit to being an idea chauvanist. I know I'm right. I know that you're wrong. Its hard for me to understand why you can't figure that out. But I try to understand. I am open minded and think the world should be as well.
This is getting me no closer to what I would be willing to take up arms for. But perhaps that's the point. Perhaps the reason there hasn't been a revolution here in nearly 150 years is the fact that this country has done a good job of keeping people in the fold - convincing them that no matter how bad it has gotten, our system is still the right system. We might need course corrections from time to time, but as a whole, this country is still the most sea worthy vehicle out there.
More things to ponder from the wilderness... but soon, I will have found my way back to the path.
I've got 30 chapters to play with this idea. And I've got a few ideas that will work for the book. But the question that intrigues me is what would that thing be for me? What would make me so angry that I'd buy a gun and storm the nation's capitol? I mean, even if, as I suspect, the Bush Government lied to the American people about the war in Iraq, lied about the weapon's of mass destruction, put their political cronies in positions of power and wealth, and occupied a foreign nation just for the sake of oil money... I'd be darn tootin mad, but I doubt I'd start a revolution. The short answer to the question, of course, would be that the government would have to do something so drastic and so terrible as to deny me the ability to be me. They'd have to discard my beliefs. They'd have to deny my thoughts, feelings, and concerns as being completely pointless. They'd have to try to conceptually destroy who I am, even if they didn't try to do it physically.
Which raises the question, who am I? What are the things that I believe, that I hold so dear to my heart, that the loss of that belief would destroy me completely? Certainly my faith. This is not something that's negotiable. But, would I revolt if the government shut down my church? Or, worse, if the church I had known was to be taken over from within by the same people that were running the country? My belief in freedom and justice for all - not just the rich and able - would be high on that list. So, too, would my belief that all people deserve the right to the freedom of speech and expression - but I would temper this with the Clear and Present Danger clause that the Supreme Court has also applied. I guess most of the articles of the Bill of Rights would be high on that list. As much as I love this country and the principles it stands for, any attack on the Constitution of the United States, from without or within, would cause me to defend that article in the best way possible. I would take up arms to defend myself and my family as well. But these are all individual reasons based on perceived threats and get me no closer to understanding the things that I hold dear even when there is no perceived threat to them.
I love baseball and the sense of fair play. I love drama. I love the idea that things can turn out good. I like the idea of innocent until proven guilty - in the great drama of life, I have to hope in the underdog idea that things might not always be as they appear. I am always for open lines of communication - and peaceful posturing as a default. I think the UN is our best hope of survival. I think the Olympic Spirit is what is right in the world - friendly competition to determine who is best, during a time of world peace. I don't believe in anyone's superiority or their inferiority, though I am greatly annoyed by those who do think that. I find all people to be God's creatures and I try not to hold any animosity towards anyone, but I admit to being an idea chauvanist. I know I'm right. I know that you're wrong. Its hard for me to understand why you can't figure that out. But I try to understand. I am open minded and think the world should be as well.
This is getting me no closer to what I would be willing to take up arms for. But perhaps that's the point. Perhaps the reason there hasn't been a revolution here in nearly 150 years is the fact that this country has done a good job of keeping people in the fold - convincing them that no matter how bad it has gotten, our system is still the right system. We might need course corrections from time to time, but as a whole, this country is still the most sea worthy vehicle out there.
More things to ponder from the wilderness... but soon, I will have found my way back to the path.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
In The Wilderness - Part Three
Part of what I wrote yesterday really stuck in my mind last night as I sat down to write my daily journal. I have been keeping a journal fairly regularly since 1992. There have been gaps during that time period, but, for the most part, I have been consistent. For the past three or four years I haven't missed a day. So, last night, as I sat down to write, I started by asking the same questions I had asked on my blog - "When we remove the clutter, is what we are left with, what we are? Do we define ourselves by who we are when we are alone?"
Admittedly, I didn't see the forest through the trees immediately. First I made a couple of probing insights. I pointed out the fact that we've been alone for some fourteen years now... that no matter what we've done as far as friends and dating, at the end of the day, we come home alone and we write or we watch TV or we... And that was when it hit me.
Somewhere along the line, I had become we.
I laugh at the sports guys that refer to themselves in the third person. But how more ridiculous is it to refer to yourself using the Royal "We"? I mean, I know I need to lose some weight, but since had I become more than one person? As I started back down this line of thinking, I realized what this wilderness had become for me. I hadn't lost my way so much as I had gained an unwelcome companion.
And this is where the story gets weird.
I realized that this unwelcome companion was the Novel itself. Somehow in my anxiety to finish this sucker, I had personified it. I had given it not only a voice and a desire to be finished but I had allowed it to call the shots. It had begun to tell me what it needed to be finished. And I had blithely followed along - adding scenes and character stories and changing things to fill out the Novel and to finish it. Not because it needed these changes, per se, but because the Novel, like everything else, desired to be the best thing that it could be.
See, I told you... weird.
The problem I was having was in losing my voice on the matter. I was going along writing what the Novel required instead of writing what I wanted to write. The Novel had taken on a life of its own and it wasn't willing to give it back. It wanted to control its own outcome.
I think somewhere in the wilderness, Jesus must have confronted these thoughts, the opposite of my own. He must have walked into the wilderness to find Himself. He must have imagined the way He'd like the story to turn out - of Him leading His disciples to bring about a new kingdom on earth. Of Him healing the sick and the poor. Of Him doing His father's work well into his old age and then retiring to watch His handiwork throughout the land. He must have been awfully tempted to let His story become the story. But ultimately, He knew that deep down inside, His story had to have a different ending. He knew that and He confronted it. He struggled with it, but in the end, He returned from the wilderness ready to bring the story to fruition. His desires were supplanted by the desires of His father and the necessity of the story. He became a We. He became the three-in-one - submitting His will to God.
I let the story control my own desires. But in doing so, I have let the story gain the upper hand and my desires have been lost in the noise. The Novel had started to be full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. None of Me was in the Novel. I realize now what the problem is. I need to put myself back in my story. I need to stop being a we.
We walked into the wilderness. I am coming out.
Admittedly, I didn't see the forest through the trees immediately. First I made a couple of probing insights. I pointed out the fact that we've been alone for some fourteen years now... that no matter what we've done as far as friends and dating, at the end of the day, we come home alone and we write or we watch TV or we... And that was when it hit me.
Somewhere along the line, I had become we.
I laugh at the sports guys that refer to themselves in the third person. But how more ridiculous is it to refer to yourself using the Royal "We"? I mean, I know I need to lose some weight, but since had I become more than one person? As I started back down this line of thinking, I realized what this wilderness had become for me. I hadn't lost my way so much as I had gained an unwelcome companion.
And this is where the story gets weird.
I realized that this unwelcome companion was the Novel itself. Somehow in my anxiety to finish this sucker, I had personified it. I had given it not only a voice and a desire to be finished but I had allowed it to call the shots. It had begun to tell me what it needed to be finished. And I had blithely followed along - adding scenes and character stories and changing things to fill out the Novel and to finish it. Not because it needed these changes, per se, but because the Novel, like everything else, desired to be the best thing that it could be.
See, I told you... weird.
The problem I was having was in losing my voice on the matter. I was going along writing what the Novel required instead of writing what I wanted to write. The Novel had taken on a life of its own and it wasn't willing to give it back. It wanted to control its own outcome.
I think somewhere in the wilderness, Jesus must have confronted these thoughts, the opposite of my own. He must have walked into the wilderness to find Himself. He must have imagined the way He'd like the story to turn out - of Him leading His disciples to bring about a new kingdom on earth. Of Him healing the sick and the poor. Of Him doing His father's work well into his old age and then retiring to watch His handiwork throughout the land. He must have been awfully tempted to let His story become the story. But ultimately, He knew that deep down inside, His story had to have a different ending. He knew that and He confronted it. He struggled with it, but in the end, He returned from the wilderness ready to bring the story to fruition. His desires were supplanted by the desires of His father and the necessity of the story. He became a We. He became the three-in-one - submitting His will to God.
I let the story control my own desires. But in doing so, I have let the story gain the upper hand and my desires have been lost in the noise. The Novel had started to be full of sound and fury, signifying nothing. None of Me was in the Novel. I realize now what the problem is. I need to put myself back in my story. I need to stop being a we.
We walked into the wilderness. I am coming out.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
In The Wilderness - Part Two
What is this malaise that has entered my life? Is it just a case of the blues? Is it fear? Is it doubt? Is it reality? Is it sin? As the fog slowly lifts from my eyes and I'm tempted to start seeing the forest through the trees, I am reminded that I need to go backwards to the path I left, not forward on some sort of shortcut to pick up the path somewhere down the line. I have a tendency to want to cut corners, but this is a path of no shortcuts, no quicker routes, no easier ways. This is a path of narrow roads and singular choices where any deviation means that you've lost the way.
My life has become cluttered. In fact, it seems at times that all life is clutter. That without the clutter, there is nothing left. If I strip away my time at work, at church, at the Novel, and volunteering (T-Ball and what not), I am left with me sitting in a room watching TV. This is my life. This is what it has become. I fill it with clutter to distract myself from this quiet desperation. What is it that I am doing here? Martin Luther learned that deeds are not the path to God. And yet, strip away my deeds, and I am alone.
Perhaps God is there with me. Perhaps He sits down next to me and quietly watches TV as well, hoping that I'll... what? Do something? What is it that we are when we are alone? Is that not our most basic nature? Do we sit and pray? Do we praise God for our time away from others? What did Jesus do in the wilderness for 40 days? What ramblings did He have with Himself? If He was already perfect, what need did He have to go into the wilderness? What did He find there?
Is that the nature of my malaise? Am I basically alone?
The blues are common to lots of people. I have had the blues before. I suspect that I'm suffering from them now. For me, a writer, I note that the blues and writer's block usually go hand in hand - don't know which causes the other. And as was mentioned by Sue and Elisa yesterday, when you come out of the blues, the sun seems to shine brighter and the world regains some lost focus - like the sky after a rain storm is clearer, cleaner. But what causes the blues? Do we feel tired? Do we feel drained? Are we cut off from God through our own efforts, or lack thereof? As I said yesterday, I feel lost but I don't know where I got off the path and I don't know how to get back.
But the fog is starting to lift and the route is beginning to become clear. Perhaps my time in the wilderness will be short.
All thanks and glory be to God, the Almighty.
Amen
My life has become cluttered. In fact, it seems at times that all life is clutter. That without the clutter, there is nothing left. If I strip away my time at work, at church, at the Novel, and volunteering (T-Ball and what not), I am left with me sitting in a room watching TV. This is my life. This is what it has become. I fill it with clutter to distract myself from this quiet desperation. What is it that I am doing here? Martin Luther learned that deeds are not the path to God. And yet, strip away my deeds, and I am alone.
Perhaps God is there with me. Perhaps He sits down next to me and quietly watches TV as well, hoping that I'll... what? Do something? What is it that we are when we are alone? Is that not our most basic nature? Do we sit and pray? Do we praise God for our time away from others? What did Jesus do in the wilderness for 40 days? What ramblings did He have with Himself? If He was already perfect, what need did He have to go into the wilderness? What did He find there?
Is that the nature of my malaise? Am I basically alone?
The blues are common to lots of people. I have had the blues before. I suspect that I'm suffering from them now. For me, a writer, I note that the blues and writer's block usually go hand in hand - don't know which causes the other. And as was mentioned by Sue and Elisa yesterday, when you come out of the blues, the sun seems to shine brighter and the world regains some lost focus - like the sky after a rain storm is clearer, cleaner. But what causes the blues? Do we feel tired? Do we feel drained? Are we cut off from God through our own efforts, or lack thereof? As I said yesterday, I feel lost but I don't know where I got off the path and I don't know how to get back.
But the fog is starting to lift and the route is beginning to become clear. Perhaps my time in the wilderness will be short.
All thanks and glory be to God, the Almighty.
Amen
Monday, March 13, 2006
In The Wilderness - Part One
Sometimes you find yourself on the road with the thickets and woods closing in around you and the next thing you know, you've lost the way. You've somehow left the path and are in the full wilderness. It is dark. There is sunlight above you, but it does not show you the way back to the path. You can flail about and hope that you are not devoured. Or, you can stop, try to retrace your steps, and begin to look for the path again.
Somewhere along the line, I have lost my way. I'm not sure where I took a wrong turn. I'm not sure what I've done to find myself in this place, but here I am all the same. I don't know where to go, or how to get back to my path, but I know enough to stop, take stock of my surroundings, and then try to retrace my steps.
I know I am surrounded by tall trees - pillars, if you will - of a good Christian community. My fellow bloggers, on their own journeys, have shown me again and again that the path begins with Christ. I am not disputing that. But it somehow feels as if I am blocked from it, as if I've become shut off. I know that the answer is that Christ is still here with me, but I can not feel Him. Knowing and feeling are two different things. And so, I've asked myself what it is about these others here on the same journey that I appreciate so much. As it turns out, its a case of wisdom, faith, love, hope and strength.
Wisdom
Ariel from The Bittersweet Life has been a strong source of wisdom for me. Even before Andy started his own blog and tried to get me to write one myself, I have been the occassional reader of Ariel's blog. Whether he's talking about the KU front court or Heideger's relationship to Christian faith, I find myself drinking his words like nourishing water. The pictures of his life are amazing - small glimpses of his world - whether by photo or by word. And I love to hear his ongoing Boggle scores, to remind me of what is truly important in this world ;) Though I've never met this brother of mine in Christ, I feel a connection that I cannot explain. His words are stronger than the letters that make them.
Faith
Dan from Nada is a strong portrayer of the faith for me. Having physically met Dan at a Bible study conducted by my friend, Andy, I can tell you that he is a powerful prayer-meister, who puts his faith in the Lord. When he lost his job recently, Dan didn't fret about things because he knew that God was going to take him on a new journey and he was eager to see what God had in store for him. This kind of faith is rare to see. I enjoy spending a few moments picking up the latest threads of his faithful story.
Love
Elisa from Things In General is a beautiful soul who shows the meaning of love to me. To hear Elisa's heart rending troubles, is to see what so many of us face on a daily basis through the lens of her incredible love for everyone. Her troubles at home, or with her family, makes me feel her anxiety, her hope, and her love for others. I read her blog or her comments and I can't help but feeling my heart yearn for peace, forgiveness, hope, God. I wish I could feel with the depth that she feels.
Hope
Heather from Superstar In Training is an example of the hope we all feel at some point in our life. Her blog is about the struggles of a young woman just starting out in the law profession, with two little kids, a husband, and a desire to make something better of her life and those of others. When you read her blog you can feel the hope in her journey - the heartfelt prayers in her words. Though she struggles to get ahead, she places her hope in God, and we all pray for her hope to be achieved.
Strength
Andy from A Mile From The Beach has always been strong to me. When Andy decided to become a weight lifter a few years back, I was humored. Andy - a weight lifter? And Pee Wee Herman was going to be a Pro Wrestler, right? But if there is one thing I should never do is doubt the passion and strength of my friend. He is steadfast in all his endeavors. He may stumble on the way, but he will eventually get there and succeed beyond all our imaginations. He is never content to just do the bare minimum. When he joined the fraternity, he joined it all the way - eventually becoming its President. When he started a blog, he learned as much as he could - he's got music, pictures, polls, weather trackers, gadgets and gizmos aplenty, and whozits and whatsits galore. When he decided to become a full fledged Christian, he didn't hold back either. He left the old Andy behind and embraced the new as a brother and a friend. That takes an incredible strength. He is like the Terminator. There is no compromise in him. Oh, and did I mention that he could weightlift an entire refrigerator? So, don't get him angry ;)
There are others who will help me find my way back. There are plenty of other trees in this forest. And I will need to see them for what they are, and see me for what I am, before I am no longer stuck in the wilderness.
Somewhere along the line, I have lost my way. I'm not sure where I took a wrong turn. I'm not sure what I've done to find myself in this place, but here I am all the same. I don't know where to go, or how to get back to my path, but I know enough to stop, take stock of my surroundings, and then try to retrace my steps.
I know I am surrounded by tall trees - pillars, if you will - of a good Christian community. My fellow bloggers, on their own journeys, have shown me again and again that the path begins with Christ. I am not disputing that. But it somehow feels as if I am blocked from it, as if I've become shut off. I know that the answer is that Christ is still here with me, but I can not feel Him. Knowing and feeling are two different things. And so, I've asked myself what it is about these others here on the same journey that I appreciate so much. As it turns out, its a case of wisdom, faith, love, hope and strength.
Wisdom
Ariel from The Bittersweet Life has been a strong source of wisdom for me. Even before Andy started his own blog and tried to get me to write one myself, I have been the occassional reader of Ariel's blog. Whether he's talking about the KU front court or Heideger's relationship to Christian faith, I find myself drinking his words like nourishing water. The pictures of his life are amazing - small glimpses of his world - whether by photo or by word. And I love to hear his ongoing Boggle scores, to remind me of what is truly important in this world ;) Though I've never met this brother of mine in Christ, I feel a connection that I cannot explain. His words are stronger than the letters that make them.
Faith
Dan from Nada is a strong portrayer of the faith for me. Having physically met Dan at a Bible study conducted by my friend, Andy, I can tell you that he is a powerful prayer-meister, who puts his faith in the Lord. When he lost his job recently, Dan didn't fret about things because he knew that God was going to take him on a new journey and he was eager to see what God had in store for him. This kind of faith is rare to see. I enjoy spending a few moments picking up the latest threads of his faithful story.
Love
Elisa from Things In General is a beautiful soul who shows the meaning of love to me. To hear Elisa's heart rending troubles, is to see what so many of us face on a daily basis through the lens of her incredible love for everyone. Her troubles at home, or with her family, makes me feel her anxiety, her hope, and her love for others. I read her blog or her comments and I can't help but feeling my heart yearn for peace, forgiveness, hope, God. I wish I could feel with the depth that she feels.
Hope
Heather from Superstar In Training is an example of the hope we all feel at some point in our life. Her blog is about the struggles of a young woman just starting out in the law profession, with two little kids, a husband, and a desire to make something better of her life and those of others. When you read her blog you can feel the hope in her journey - the heartfelt prayers in her words. Though she struggles to get ahead, she places her hope in God, and we all pray for her hope to be achieved.
Strength
Andy from A Mile From The Beach has always been strong to me. When Andy decided to become a weight lifter a few years back, I was humored. Andy - a weight lifter? And Pee Wee Herman was going to be a Pro Wrestler, right? But if there is one thing I should never do is doubt the passion and strength of my friend. He is steadfast in all his endeavors. He may stumble on the way, but he will eventually get there and succeed beyond all our imaginations. He is never content to just do the bare minimum. When he joined the fraternity, he joined it all the way - eventually becoming its President. When he started a blog, he learned as much as he could - he's got music, pictures, polls, weather trackers, gadgets and gizmos aplenty, and whozits and whatsits galore. When he decided to become a full fledged Christian, he didn't hold back either. He left the old Andy behind and embraced the new as a brother and a friend. That takes an incredible strength. He is like the Terminator. There is no compromise in him. Oh, and did I mention that he could weightlift an entire refrigerator? So, don't get him angry ;)
There are others who will help me find my way back. There are plenty of other trees in this forest. And I will need to see them for what they are, and see me for what I am, before I am no longer stuck in the wilderness.
Friday, March 10, 2006
Friday's Next Category...
Today's Category has nothing to do with Baseball... You know the rules, but if you don't see the previous Friday Categories posts...
Name Three Books of The Bible That Were Rejected Because Of Their Title...
Have fun and see you on Monday...
Name Three Books of The Bible That Were Rejected Because Of Their Title...
Have fun and see you on Monday...
For The Love Of The Game... and Andy...
Talkin' Tee-Ball
Music by Terry Cashman
Lyrics by Will Robison
The whiz kids had played it,
Andy Lie had coached it,
And Will read the comics all the while.
Rock 'n roll was dying,
And baseball players were lying,
So down on the blogosphere,
The national past-time went on trial.
Refrain:
We're talkin' Tee-ball!
A bunch of really young fellas.
Talkin' Tee-ball!
Their moms and dads are yellin’.
Their running and their catching is a fluke,
Yet they play the game from Boston to Dubuque.
Just like Willie, Mickey, and the Duke.
Well , Andy Lie was grinning,
While Will was beginning,
They were all playing so no one would win.
And though it might snow
To practice they must go,
Even if the streets look like the hills of Washington.
Refrain:
Now Coach Andy liked Matt Williams,
While, Will wanted to be like #22.
And Pastor Peter played hooky,
To go and see the Monster.
And me, I always loved Willie Mays,
Man, those were the days!
Refrain:
Well, now it's for the new kids,
To learn how to play it,
And the coaches teach the basics of the game.
Coach Andy is a vet,
And Will again is a pet,
If we lose all this, it really will be a shame.
I'm talkin' Tee-ball!
A mile from the beach we’re teachin.
Talkin' Tee-ball!
No matter whether its rainin’ and snowin’ too,
We’re gonna teach the next Vida Blue,
If Cooperstown is calling, it's no fluke.
We’re teachin’ the next Willie, Mickey, and the Duke.
Willie, Mickey, and the Duke. (Say hey, say hey, say hey)
The next Willie, Mickey and the Duke (Say hey, say hey, say hey)
I'm talkin' Willie, Mickey and the Duke (Say hey, say hey, say hey)
Music by Terry Cashman
Lyrics by Will Robison
The whiz kids had played it,
Andy Lie had coached it,
And Will read the comics all the while.
Rock 'n roll was dying,
And baseball players were lying,
So down on the blogosphere,
The national past-time went on trial.
Refrain:
We're talkin' Tee-ball!
A bunch of really young fellas.
Talkin' Tee-ball!
Their moms and dads are yellin’.
Their running and their catching is a fluke,
Yet they play the game from Boston to Dubuque.
Just like Willie, Mickey, and the Duke.
Well , Andy Lie was grinning,
While Will was beginning,
They were all playing so no one would win.
And though it might snow
To practice they must go,
Even if the streets look like the hills of Washington.
Refrain:
Now Coach Andy liked Matt Williams,
While, Will wanted to be like #22.
And Pastor Peter played hooky,
To go and see the Monster.
And me, I always loved Willie Mays,
Man, those were the days!
Refrain:
Well, now it's for the new kids,
To learn how to play it,
And the coaches teach the basics of the game.
Coach Andy is a vet,
And Will again is a pet,
If we lose all this, it really will be a shame.
I'm talkin' Tee-ball!
A mile from the beach we’re teachin.
Talkin' Tee-ball!
No matter whether its rainin’ and snowin’ too,
We’re gonna teach the next Vida Blue,
If Cooperstown is calling, it's no fluke.
We’re teachin’ the next Willie, Mickey, and the Duke.
Willie, Mickey, and the Duke. (Say hey, say hey, say hey)
The next Willie, Mickey and the Duke (Say hey, say hey, say hey)
I'm talkin' Willie, Mickey and the Duke (Say hey, say hey, say hey)
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Broken
I'm not really sure where I'm going with this.
Ariel, over at Bittersweet Life, asked the other day why some blog postings generate more answers than others. I think he was playing with it a little tongue in cheek, but the question is a valid one in a much larger context. Why do some days work so well, and others just seem to be obstacles to get past? Why does life click sometimes and other times it just feels broken?
Last night I tried to write my Novel and I just couldn't get started. After trying to write the same scene three times I gave up and called it a night. I was feeling miserable - tired, cold, and sick. I crawled into bed and pulled up my covers and watched TV. I got up this morning feeling much better. Had I worked myself into a state of sickness or was it just one of those days? I'm not sure. My brain felt like it was functioning perfectly fine. In this case, the mind was willing, the flesh was willing, but for some reason, nothing was working. It felt as if I was broken, dashed to pieces, looking at my novel through a fogged lens.
Its been a strange week for me. I've felt perfectly fine. I've felt mentally all there. I've even felt the calm and reassuring feeling of being close to God - and yet, its almost the same thing, like I'm witnessing my life through a fogged lens. I can't quite explain this odd feeling. I'm not entirely all there. I feel distant somehow - unable to connect.
I did something the other day I've never done before and bully for me. I had a problem at work that left me angry and upset. My co-workers were on my side, suggesting all sorts of drastic actions to bring about justice. Instead, I went out to my car and prayed for discernment. And I felt God's peace with me and true insight into not only my behavior but other's behavior. I chose another path for a solution and, as a result, the problem went away. But even as I was doing this, I felt outside myself - a stranger looking in.
I keep telling myself its the Novel. I keep telling myself that writing this Novel forces me to be of two minds about the world - one in the here and now and one in the realm of fantasy. Perhaps. And perhaps that's why I can't really be in focus. On the other hand, I also started reading Ecclesiastes again about ten days ago and there is some truly revolutionary wisdom in that book - its kind of the yang to Christ's ying and yet fully consistent with God's message. Perhaps my brain is trying to process too much stuff at one time.
Has anyone else ever felt disconnected, outside themselves, apart from the world? And did they recall what made them snap back into focus?
Oooh... just another thought... perhaps this has something to do with giving up Fast Food for Lent... maybe I'm going into Cheeseburger withdrawal? ;) It could happen!
Ariel, over at Bittersweet Life, asked the other day why some blog postings generate more answers than others. I think he was playing with it a little tongue in cheek, but the question is a valid one in a much larger context. Why do some days work so well, and others just seem to be obstacles to get past? Why does life click sometimes and other times it just feels broken?
Last night I tried to write my Novel and I just couldn't get started. After trying to write the same scene three times I gave up and called it a night. I was feeling miserable - tired, cold, and sick. I crawled into bed and pulled up my covers and watched TV. I got up this morning feeling much better. Had I worked myself into a state of sickness or was it just one of those days? I'm not sure. My brain felt like it was functioning perfectly fine. In this case, the mind was willing, the flesh was willing, but for some reason, nothing was working. It felt as if I was broken, dashed to pieces, looking at my novel through a fogged lens.
Its been a strange week for me. I've felt perfectly fine. I've felt mentally all there. I've even felt the calm and reassuring feeling of being close to God - and yet, its almost the same thing, like I'm witnessing my life through a fogged lens. I can't quite explain this odd feeling. I'm not entirely all there. I feel distant somehow - unable to connect.
I did something the other day I've never done before and bully for me. I had a problem at work that left me angry and upset. My co-workers were on my side, suggesting all sorts of drastic actions to bring about justice. Instead, I went out to my car and prayed for discernment. And I felt God's peace with me and true insight into not only my behavior but other's behavior. I chose another path for a solution and, as a result, the problem went away. But even as I was doing this, I felt outside myself - a stranger looking in.
I keep telling myself its the Novel. I keep telling myself that writing this Novel forces me to be of two minds about the world - one in the here and now and one in the realm of fantasy. Perhaps. And perhaps that's why I can't really be in focus. On the other hand, I also started reading Ecclesiastes again about ten days ago and there is some truly revolutionary wisdom in that book - its kind of the yang to Christ's ying and yet fully consistent with God's message. Perhaps my brain is trying to process too much stuff at one time.
Has anyone else ever felt disconnected, outside themselves, apart from the world? And did they recall what made them snap back into focus?
Oooh... just another thought... perhaps this has something to do with giving up Fast Food for Lent... maybe I'm going into Cheeseburger withdrawal? ;) It could happen!
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Another day... another milestone...
Today is the day I can make restaurant reservations at Disney World. Yes, as of today, the countdown clock stands at 6 months. Six months from today, I will be boarding some airline somewhere for some flight to WDW. The details still have a little to be worked out. :)
Since I have been accused recently of being gloomy and self deprecating and near suicidal in my dark and dispiriting blogs, I thought I'd offer a little bit of light and love here on the web.
So I'm opening up this blog to you all... I want to hear your favorite Disney story - whether it be Disneyland, DisneyWorld, EuroDisney, Tokyo Disney, Hong Kong Disney, Dubai Disney, Atlantis Disney, or any other Disney park... wait, I think they just built one across the street... ;) Coming soon, in between Starbucks and McDonalds, your very own Disney Park... :) Anyway, I want to hear your favorite Disney story...
So dish!
Since I have been accused recently of being gloomy and self deprecating and near suicidal in my dark and dispiriting blogs, I thought I'd offer a little bit of light and love here on the web.
So I'm opening up this blog to you all... I want to hear your favorite Disney story - whether it be Disneyland, DisneyWorld, EuroDisney, Tokyo Disney, Hong Kong Disney, Dubai Disney, Atlantis Disney, or any other Disney park... wait, I think they just built one across the street... ;) Coming soon, in between Starbucks and McDonalds, your very own Disney Park... :) Anyway, I want to hear your favorite Disney story...
So dish!
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
The Happiest Day Of My Life
Twenty years ago today was the happiest day of my life.
It was raining hard that day - just like today. I was supposed to be going out with Karen, who I was madly in love with. It was going to be our first official date. But it was pouring rain. As I left her after my 6th period class, I said, "Well, I guess we can't go out today." And she replied, "Why not?" "It's raining." "Well, can't we go someplace else?" My heart bounced and I told her that I would find a place.
I cut 7th period geometry and ran home through the rain. I'd forgotten my bus pass and figured that I might actually need it. Its only about 20 blocks downhill to my house - and 20 blocks back up hill to school. I made it with 2 minutes to spare and met Karen outside her class.
The rain had let up for the moment, so we walked down to the streetcar stop and took the streetcar downtown. At Castro Street we got off the train and climbed up the long hill out of Castro and through a small park to the Josephine Randall Children's Museum - it was free and it was indoors. We wandered through the exhibits - different animals and small science exhibits like a richter scale. But we both quickly became bored and decided to go for a walk through the hilltop park.
Though it started to rain, I didn't care as we walked together under her umbrella up to a small terrace with an amazing view of San Francisco. I sat on the red brick outdoor Bar-B-Que grills and she sat on my lap and we just talked and looked at the city. I had this overwhelming urge to kiss her, but she was facing the wrong direction.
Finally, my worst nightmares came true when she said that she had to go home, and I hadn't had a chance to kiss her. I walked over to the rail on the side of a sheer cliff and looked out at the city one last time. She came there and joined me, telling me I was getting wet without the umbrella. I wanted to tell her that it didn't matter, but I never got a chance. Instead, she leaned in and we kissed. It was the most magical moment of my whole entire life.
Afterwards, I walked her home and said goodbye across the street from her house. She asked me if I needed the umbrella and I told her I was fine. I walked home through the rain and arrived 13 long blocks later completely soaked to the bone. In those 13 blocks, I created the characters and story for what would become my greatest high school epic - a story that I wrote for nearly four years... but that's another story.
The afterglow of that day, now 20 years ago, is still so strong in my life that I can't seem to let it go. It was a picture perfect moment - the kind Hollywood could never recreate, the kind you seek out your whole entire life. I said yesterday that I'd never had my moment in the sun, but that wasn't entirely true - that moment under the umbrella in the rain where I kissed Karen for the first time, was my moment in the sun.
Unfortunately, six years later we broke up, and so my story has a bittersweet feel to it - the promising first act that just sort of peters out into a melancholy ending. I've hoped for a moment to replace that one, but I strongly suspect that I'll never have a moment like that again. It seems as if we only get one of those moments in our life and my moment was 20 years ago. I'll always remember that moment as the bright spot, and I'll always feel a sadness every year it grows a little bit dimmer.
Tomorrow, I swear, I'll talk about the TACCIE Awards.
It was raining hard that day - just like today. I was supposed to be going out with Karen, who I was madly in love with. It was going to be our first official date. But it was pouring rain. As I left her after my 6th period class, I said, "Well, I guess we can't go out today." And she replied, "Why not?" "It's raining." "Well, can't we go someplace else?" My heart bounced and I told her that I would find a place.
I cut 7th period geometry and ran home through the rain. I'd forgotten my bus pass and figured that I might actually need it. Its only about 20 blocks downhill to my house - and 20 blocks back up hill to school. I made it with 2 minutes to spare and met Karen outside her class.
The rain had let up for the moment, so we walked down to the streetcar stop and took the streetcar downtown. At Castro Street we got off the train and climbed up the long hill out of Castro and through a small park to the Josephine Randall Children's Museum - it was free and it was indoors. We wandered through the exhibits - different animals and small science exhibits like a richter scale. But we both quickly became bored and decided to go for a walk through the hilltop park.
Though it started to rain, I didn't care as we walked together under her umbrella up to a small terrace with an amazing view of San Francisco. I sat on the red brick outdoor Bar-B-Que grills and she sat on my lap and we just talked and looked at the city. I had this overwhelming urge to kiss her, but she was facing the wrong direction.
Finally, my worst nightmares came true when she said that she had to go home, and I hadn't had a chance to kiss her. I walked over to the rail on the side of a sheer cliff and looked out at the city one last time. She came there and joined me, telling me I was getting wet without the umbrella. I wanted to tell her that it didn't matter, but I never got a chance. Instead, she leaned in and we kissed. It was the most magical moment of my whole entire life.
Afterwards, I walked her home and said goodbye across the street from her house. She asked me if I needed the umbrella and I told her I was fine. I walked home through the rain and arrived 13 long blocks later completely soaked to the bone. In those 13 blocks, I created the characters and story for what would become my greatest high school epic - a story that I wrote for nearly four years... but that's another story.
The afterglow of that day, now 20 years ago, is still so strong in my life that I can't seem to let it go. It was a picture perfect moment - the kind Hollywood could never recreate, the kind you seek out your whole entire life. I said yesterday that I'd never had my moment in the sun, but that wasn't entirely true - that moment under the umbrella in the rain where I kissed Karen for the first time, was my moment in the sun.
Unfortunately, six years later we broke up, and so my story has a bittersweet feel to it - the promising first act that just sort of peters out into a melancholy ending. I've hoped for a moment to replace that one, but I strongly suspect that I'll never have a moment like that again. It seems as if we only get one of those moments in our life and my moment was 20 years ago. I'll always remember that moment as the bright spot, and I'll always feel a sadness every year it grows a little bit dimmer.
Tomorrow, I swear, I'll talk about the TACCIE Awards.
Monday, March 06, 2006
Big Headed Loser
The Oscars were on TV last night in case you failed to notice - and most of us did. What used to be the highlight of my entertainment year has, unfortunately, lost a lot of its zing lately. Hollywood seems to be in a funk, but its so hard to tell if the movies are as bad as I think because I go to so few of them now that the price is like $40 a ticket (or whatever it is). The movies might be the same, but the odds are that my bad movie percentage has gone way up.
I think ever since I was a little kid I've imagined myself getting up there and accepting an Oscar for something - acting, directing, music, writing, editing, producing, whatever... Its been a fun daydream. But unlike most other people, I've never actually won anything, anywhere. I've never had my moment to shine.
I was never good at school. And when I was good at school, teachers just kept piling more work on me, and then I'd fall back to the pack. I ran - but I never won any awards. I sang - but I was always the other guy, never the lead. And even when I was the lead, it was because there was no competition (I was the right age for the part). I wrote, but other kids got awards. I did all sorts of things, but glory was never mine. I began to accept the fact that I was mediocre, at best. Call it a bad case of low self esteem, or reality, either way, I didn't achieve a damn thing.
It certainly wasn't for a lack of trying. I always throw myself into everything I do with dreams of glory. Heck, this Novel I'm writing is probably not nearly as good as I think it is. But that's okay. Because I wrote it, I have very low expectations for it. In the hands of someone else, it might be the vehicle for glory. In my hands, well, I'll be happy if it gets published - ecstatic really! At my age, I may still dream of the Super Bowl, but I'd love to just make the team.
I used to think God was testing me and my patience. Just a little longer, He'd say, and glory will be yours. I'd wait. I'd throw myself into a new project - certain that this would be the one. And it'd all come crashing down around me. Fiancee - broke up. Naval School - graduated with the highest GPA in school history, still didn't get any honors. Intelligence posting - received a glowing review from my bosses, didn't receive a single medal for my hard work. Again, and again, and again, I'd put in the effort, I'd make the connections, I'd do everything in my power to succeed... and I'd end up with nothing to show for it. This, too, I figured was God's path. I guessed I was just not destined to win - like a guy playing the lottery every day and after every loss saying, "Tomorrow, for sure!"
I imagine I'd be a terrible winner. After all these years, hearing my name called would elicit one of two responses from me. I'd either burst into tears of happiness and be completely inconsolable, or I'd run onto the stage, grab my Oscar, and turn to the audience and say, "Well, its about freaking time! What took you people so long to realize my genius?! Are you morons? Geez... one lousy Oscar! I should have had forty by now..." My head would swell so large, I'd probably float out of the Dorothy Chandler Pavillion and have to get shot down by the Rocketeer.
But whenever I start thinking this way and start wondering why I am the world's biggest loser, or if I'll be the world's biggest headed winner, I just remember my Ecclesiastes and I become centered again.
Ultimately, it doesn't matter whether you all recognize my obvious superiority, or whether you learn to suffer my foolish inferiority. It doesn't matter if I'm rich and powerful, smart, handsome, and extremely talented, or if I'm a bum on the street corner asking you for a quarter. It doesn't matter if I succeed beyond my wildest imaginations, or spend my life a spectacular Never Was. My glory will come after I die and am rejoined with my Lord and Savior. That is the glory that is my destiny and that is the glory that God has been keeping for me. Next to it, even an Oscar is just a piece of metal.
Of course, a little glory down here wouldn't be too bad either. Which is why, if you can't beat 'em, you create 'em. Tomorrow, I will tell you all about the 2006 Taccie Awards.
I think ever since I was a little kid I've imagined myself getting up there and accepting an Oscar for something - acting, directing, music, writing, editing, producing, whatever... Its been a fun daydream. But unlike most other people, I've never actually won anything, anywhere. I've never had my moment to shine.
I was never good at school. And when I was good at school, teachers just kept piling more work on me, and then I'd fall back to the pack. I ran - but I never won any awards. I sang - but I was always the other guy, never the lead. And even when I was the lead, it was because there was no competition (I was the right age for the part). I wrote, but other kids got awards. I did all sorts of things, but glory was never mine. I began to accept the fact that I was mediocre, at best. Call it a bad case of low self esteem, or reality, either way, I didn't achieve a damn thing.
It certainly wasn't for a lack of trying. I always throw myself into everything I do with dreams of glory. Heck, this Novel I'm writing is probably not nearly as good as I think it is. But that's okay. Because I wrote it, I have very low expectations for it. In the hands of someone else, it might be the vehicle for glory. In my hands, well, I'll be happy if it gets published - ecstatic really! At my age, I may still dream of the Super Bowl, but I'd love to just make the team.
I used to think God was testing me and my patience. Just a little longer, He'd say, and glory will be yours. I'd wait. I'd throw myself into a new project - certain that this would be the one. And it'd all come crashing down around me. Fiancee - broke up. Naval School - graduated with the highest GPA in school history, still didn't get any honors. Intelligence posting - received a glowing review from my bosses, didn't receive a single medal for my hard work. Again, and again, and again, I'd put in the effort, I'd make the connections, I'd do everything in my power to succeed... and I'd end up with nothing to show for it. This, too, I figured was God's path. I guessed I was just not destined to win - like a guy playing the lottery every day and after every loss saying, "Tomorrow, for sure!"
I imagine I'd be a terrible winner. After all these years, hearing my name called would elicit one of two responses from me. I'd either burst into tears of happiness and be completely inconsolable, or I'd run onto the stage, grab my Oscar, and turn to the audience and say, "Well, its about freaking time! What took you people so long to realize my genius?! Are you morons? Geez... one lousy Oscar! I should have had forty by now..." My head would swell so large, I'd probably float out of the Dorothy Chandler Pavillion and have to get shot down by the Rocketeer.
But whenever I start thinking this way and start wondering why I am the world's biggest loser, or if I'll be the world's biggest headed winner, I just remember my Ecclesiastes and I become centered again.
Ultimately, it doesn't matter whether you all recognize my obvious superiority, or whether you learn to suffer my foolish inferiority. It doesn't matter if I'm rich and powerful, smart, handsome, and extremely talented, or if I'm a bum on the street corner asking you for a quarter. It doesn't matter if I succeed beyond my wildest imaginations, or spend my life a spectacular Never Was. My glory will come after I die and am rejoined with my Lord and Savior. That is the glory that is my destiny and that is the glory that God has been keeping for me. Next to it, even an Oscar is just a piece of metal.
Of course, a little glory down here wouldn't be too bad either. Which is why, if you can't beat 'em, you create 'em. Tomorrow, I will tell you all about the 2006 Taccie Awards.
Friday, March 03, 2006
Friday's Category
The rules, as I posted last week, are simple. I will give you the category below and you will come up with three answers. As in the game of life, there are no winners, only those who look good in defeat ;)
This week's Category:
Name three things that you used to do as a kid, that would not be appropriate to do in a workplace environment.
This week's Category:
Name three things that you used to do as a kid, that would not be appropriate to do in a workplace environment.
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Nothing
I have been studying the book of Ecclesiastes this week and discovered that this blog is utterly meaningless.
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