Archive for the ‘Blogging’ Category

Taking the step from knowing to doing

Saturday, February 4th, 2006

Twyla Tharp makes clear throughout her invaluable book that creative consistency can only be achieved when the artist pushes beyond talent and desire to infuse work with an ethic of ritual. Not even skill, imagination, research, or planning will compensate for the lack of a daily habit of constructive focus. Emerson calls it “drill.”

Both of them describe a level of disciplined concentration with which I have personal experience, but only for relatively brief spells in my life. I’ve always felt relieved to settle back into a more multi-dimensional frame of mind. I never understood how the focused state could be harnessed as a positive habit pattern because I wasn’t convinced there was any reason to do so. My self-image as a hard worker coexisted with a misplaced desire to indulge my aversion to structured, regimented, predictable behavior. I built an entire lifestyle around it, but, to be frank, I haven’t built much else.

I was talking to my brother James last night and when he asked what was going on with me, I replied without thinking, “You should read my blog.”

I knew it was lame as soon as I said it. His not unkind reply was that he just didn’t have the time. I wasn’t surprised, but I still carried a vague sense of disbelief for the rest of the night until I finished Emerson’s “Power” before bed.

The one prudence in life is concentration; the one evil is dissipation: and it makes no difference whether our dissipations are coarse or fine; property and its cares, friends, and a social habit, or politics, or music, or feasting. Everything is good which takes away one plaything and delusion more, and drives us home to add one stroke of faithful work.

The thinker likens the severe limiting of miscellaneous activity to an orchard-man’s pruning which “forces the sap of the tree into one or two vigorous limbs, instead of suffering it to spindle into a sheaf of twigs.”

It’s not too late for me to take the step from knowing to doing. Typically for me, it’ll be easier said than done. Twyla would stomp her foot and shout, “Begin!”

Now that I’ve convinced everyone to stop reading this blog, I’d better quit. Or perhaps I should revisit my own misgivings from my very first entry over a year ago.

The universe is full of stuff

Tuesday, January 24th, 2006

Anyone who actually visits this site is probably quite familiar by now with how I’ve provided numerous updates dealing with Bruce’s ten-month medical ordeal. Anyone who actually visits this site is probably already familiar with some of his private difficulties, of which I’ve never provided details here.

I learned today that some of my recent wording struck a nerve. Most likely it was when I wrote, “the conditions of his personal life are too harsh for me to present…” Even that level of discretion was apparently offensive.

I don’t consider my use of the word “harsh” to be inaccurate, nor is it even slightly exaggerated. Displeasure undoubtedly arose from the mere fact that I said anything at all which might touch on the reality that all is not well.

I would hope that another truthful statement is that the very people who regularly like to know what’s on Uncle John’s mind are the same people who care for Bruce deeply. As far as I’m concerned, anyone else is not welcome at this site, and I urge you to find better uses for your time. The rest of you come here for my candid thoughts and opinions about almost anything, including my family.

Keep coming back. I’ll do my “dangdist” to let you know what I really think about, and, to the best of my ability, I’ll avoid unnecessarily ruffling any feathers. If you disagree with me—and I’d expect that most individuals would, from time to time—you can take Brendan up on his offer to host a blog for your viewpoints, too. For good or ill, this is the era of The Blog… Hey, it’s almost like it’s the 21st Century, man!

And if you want to know something else, I learned to blog from the Adkins brothers, and they’re not known for pulling a punch (especially Ian)—when they punch, that is—which isn’t very often, because they’re nice guys, but they do know how to punch, because they used to do martial arts and stuff and kicked hind end in video games and watched a lot of movies where guys get punched and kicked a lot, and sometimes you can see the blood and it doesn’t look fake and the ruffled feathers are sorta pink and bloody and sticky, and if it wasn’t a movie it would smell like a Kentucky cock-fighting pit, if you know what I mean…

I love you, Bruce.

That’s why, when I look back over my year of log entries, your amazing story is…

• • •  the top highlight of 2005  • • •

Too gnarled a realm for this cautious blogger

Friday, January 20th, 2006

I have a desire to do another detailed Bruce Update, since his medical situation continues to improve, but the conditions of his personal life are too harsh for me to present in this format, at least for now. Perhaps in time I’ll write something for the permanent record, but, for those of you who read this log and care about Bruce, if you want to know the specifics of what’s going on, please contact me or Dana directly. I encourage you to do so, and then to communicate your best regards to him.

Year two, day one

Monday, January 16th, 2006

Sort of hollowed myself out with yesterday’s long entry, so now I’m just sitting here, realizing I was staring at the screen, slowly collapsing like a carved pumpkin head in November, with my menacing grin replaced by a weary smirk.

Today is King Day, and I recommend reading Gruntled Center.

Our heroes have feet of clay. Doesn’t that make their contributions more remarkable? If you don’t think so, you probably haven’t understood the nature of heroism.

About Uncle John

Sunday, January 15th, 2006

(Because today is the one-year anniversary since the start of this daily log, I thought it was about time I included some sort of personal profile or “creator page.” Until I figure out a way to treat it as a separate file, I’ll just use this entry for the “About Uncle John” link. Thanks for all your help, Brendan.)

— — —

Within a nine month period, Uncle John had a niece and two nephews named Jerusha, Brendan, and Joshua, but that’s not how he got his name. Kristi or Rachel was probably the first person to call him that. He was already a stepfather, by virtue of Terie and Bruce, but was never called Stepfather John, thank goodness. Lots of exceptional young people now call him Uncle John on a regular basis and he likes it that way. Marty calls him GrandyJohn, and he likes that even more. Nobody ever called him Daddy, and that makes him sad at times, but that’s just the way things work out.

The best way to know more about Uncle John is to frequent this log, but if you want to go to school on the guy, you can learn something from what he likes and what he doesn’t like.

— — —

UNCLE JOHN LIKES—

Dana
In fact, he likes her a lot.

Family
Especially his
Mombo.

Exercise
Because his ticker came from his Dadbo.

Art
Not Uncle Art, who he also liked a lot, but the other kind—paintings by Paulo Veronese, Maurice Utrillo, Carl Rungius, Paul Klee, Andrew Wyeth, or Sheldon Tapley. He’ll always take time to appreciate a Dürer print, a Blake watercolor, a Mucha poster, a Stickley chair, a Rockwell cover, a Schwitters collage, a Patterson woodblock, a Wright interior, a Cassandre litho, a Kent engraving, a Link image, a Watterson strip, or a Glaser design.

Pirates
For good or ill, they’ve always been lurking nearby, outside, underneath, and inside.

Television
He thinks Mission: Impossible was the pinnacle of series television. In addition to great vintage shows like The Rifleman, Combat! and The Wild, Wild West; animated classics like The Adventures of Jonny Quest and Rocky and His Friends; and obscure gems like The New Breed, The Rogues, Tenspeed & Brownshoe, and The Yellow Rose, he also thoroughly enjoyed The Prisoner, Kung Fu, thirtysomething, The Adventures of Brisco County, Jr., and Firefly.

Words
His favorite living writers are Allan W. Eckert, Paul Watkins, Tom Wolfe, Peggy Noonan, Sebastian Junger, and Brendan Adkins. He also likes Homer, Kipling, and Clavell, but, unfortunately, they’re dead. In all seriousness, at different points in life, he’s found significance in the creative insights of Michel de Montaigne, Carl Jung, Alfred Korzybski, Ayn Rand, Morihei Ueshiba, Koichi Tohei, Gyorgy Kepes, Ann Wigmore, Mark Prophet, Juno Jordan, Twyla Tharp, and Deepak Chopra.

Motion Pictures
At the top of Uncle John’s list are movies like this: Forbidden Planet, The Great Escape, Silverado, The Big Country, Out of Africa, The Player, Groundhog Day, The Pale Rider, Braveheart, The Sting, Will Penny, The Conversation, Gorky Park, The Cowboys, Spirited Away, Indian Summer, Master and Commander, The Princess Bride, Fitzcarraldo, The Last of the Mohicans, Amadeus, Five-Man Army, The Rounders, Open Range, The Verdict, Red Sun, The Hustler, Quigley Down Under, The Great Santini, Z, The Man Who Would Be King, Hell in the Pacific, Sneakers, My Dinner with Andre, A Clockwork Orange, and It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World. (Like hell he’s gonna provide links for all those!)

Uncle John has a very likable business with Dana in Danville, Kentucky. He also likes to make greeting cards, collect vintage plastic toys, catch fish from Lake Huron, listen to music, shoot all types of firearms, and, like everybody, spend time with his friends.

— — —

UNCLE JOHN DOES NOT LIKE—

Coyotes, opossums, cormorants, and snapping turtles.
Idiots who yell at cyclists and runners.
Con artists who aren’t in the movies.
Computers that won’t cooperate.
Sloppy or incompetent work of any kind.
Manipulation (except advertising and politics, of course).
Squandered potential (especially when it’s his own).
Lies (that includes advertising and politics).
The absurdities of safety-net health care.
Leaf blowers, hydrogenated fat, do-it-yourself junkyards.
Litterbugs, deprogrammers, identity thieves.
Ideological elites.
Meth pushers.
Abortionists.

— — —

Some other things you may want to know about Uncle John:

He normally doesn’t write about himself in the third person. He wishes he could still be a gardener, teacher, and practitioner of Aikido (and perhaps someday he will). He’d like to run a half-marathon in under two hours. He hopes to visit Alaska, Chile, Norway, Slovakia, South Africa, and Japan. He looks forward to documenting all the details of his lifelong “Legend” project before he heads to that big playset in the sky. He wants to build a studio in The Knobs and live to see each of his nieces and nephews become grandparents, unless he or she is destined to bequeath only influence, rather than genes—like him—and in that case will always be welcome to stop by the Valley Retreat for a visit, taste some Amarula, and listen to the Blue Bank Farm whippoorwills…

— — —

Multi-Mate Marriage

Thursday, December 15th, 2005

It looks like this is polygamy week at Gruntled Center.

Not interested?

Trust me—when Beau Weston zeroes in on something, it’s nothing else but damn interesting.

Maybe it’s my brain that’s a slug

Monday, November 28th, 2005

Bruce‘s surgery is scheduled for Wednesday, so we plan to head out Tuesday evening. In order to keep the operation as short as possible, they plan to deal with the most troublesome pockets of infection by operating through his back.

I see I haven’t been very talkative in my recent entries, but I can’t explain it. Everything that’s going on right now evades my verbal capacities.

“When the mind is actively and vitally at work, for its own creative uses, it has no time for word-building: words are too clumsy: you have no time to select and group them. Hence you must think in terms of images, pictures, of states of feeling, of rhythm… Writing is but the slow, snail-like creeping of words, climbing laboriously over a little structure that resembles the thought: meanwhile the mind has gone on and on, here and yonder and back and out and back again.”
    —Louis H. Sullivan, 1934

Various & Sundry, part twenty-seven

Saturday, November 19th, 2005

— I reconfigured the screen saver on the Mac G4 Mini to display a sequence of abstractions by Kurt Schwitters. I can’t say why, but, as far as motivating me to make art, nothing of late has been more inspirational to me than the rule-shattering creations of this early 20-century master. One could say he basically invented the medium we know as collage (he certainly was the first to perfect it), and it won’t hurt if I can subconsciously absorb a wee bit of his genius. Did KK really go to Newcastle? My God, that’s the repository of the Schwitters “Merzbarn,” one of the most genuinely innovative artistic concepts of the last hundred years! I may never get to see it myself… Go back there, Caitlan; it’s in the Hatton Gallery at the University of Newcastle!

— Don’t know any details, but it seems as though conditions are imploding at the school where my sister Joan has worked for many years. I feel bad for her because I think I know what she’s going through. Dana and I still refer to the “Golden Age” at Wright State University Communications (where we first met) before that department went into a nose dive. Things were never the same. Some of our coworkers saw it coming early and escaped most of the madness. Dana and I saw the handwriting on the wall before many in our group, but we still had to endure six months of collapse until we made the leap and started our partnership and studio. Several of our friends tried to make the best of it and had to experience a lot of nastiness before what was left of our creative “dream team” had been totally dismantled. A few of us from those years started our own companies and continued to work with each other sporadically, and we keep in touch as friends to this day. Since then I’ve learned that good working relationships and situations can rarely be sustained indefinitely. Everything always changes. Undesirable situations can improve, but, unfortunately, great situations inevitably decline, or even crash and burn. There’s been quite an ebb and flow in our clientele since those days (26 years ago). It’s not that existing relationships will sour, but it’s more often a matter of the natural, dynamic flux in any organization’s personnel equation. Never underestimate the wake of change that can occur when outstanding people move on with their lives. It can cause a “brief, shining moment” to fade into personal mythology. The silver lining for me—I still have my “partner in all things” and my Clan, and that’s as close to permanent as I’ll ever know.

— Today Dana told me that Bruce had a bad night, but pulled through without having to go back to the hospital. He gets into vicious cycles of fever, nausea, low red cell count, weakness, low blood pressure, and then sometimes passes out when he tries to stand up, if he has the energy to move at all. I don’t know the actual sequence of it, but he manages to will himself forward, or he relies on his mother or Pam for the encouragement to ride it out when this happens. It apparently has something to do with dialysis, or the lingering infections, or another factor I’m not aware of. He told Dana this past week how much he wants to feel good again, and that he’s not giving up. Dana will stay with him until he improves enough that she can turn her role over to someone else. Until then, she must be there while Pam is at work. Meanwhile, I continue at the home-front and make my effort to get work, be productive, juggle the volunteer commitments that have a momentum I can’t control, and resist the kind of distractions I’ve always invited to avoid facing—right now—the full emotional impact of bearing life’s load (for example, making overly long blog entries).

V & S

Hur! Hur! Hur-hur-hur

Monday, November 7th, 2005

My first mentor… my oldest pal…

My “Big Sis” has a new blog.

One of those “uh-oh” moments

Monday, October 31st, 2005

I’ve discovered another blogger’s hazard—conversing with someone and having the awkward realization you’re reciting things they’ve already learned as a reader of your blog. It’s too easy to forget the wide penetration of these daily musings, especially after having kept a private journal for decades.

More computer problems

Sunday, October 2nd, 2005

Making a blog entry can be a dangerously handy thing in times of stress and desperation.

After examining my thoughts, I’m convinced that it would serve the greater good if no aspects of my current attitude toward the general nature of the universe were recorded in any way for posterity.

Leave of Absence

Saturday, September 10th, 2005

Tomorrow begins a lengthy period of off-line journal entries that will in due course magically appear in their ultimate blogginess…

~Gasp!~ The PRC is way ahead of us in riding bicycles

Friday, August 26th, 2005

Congressman Chandler spoke to our Rotary Club at lunch today. He pounded on the subject of an emerging China as a threat to the U.S. economy. The reporter from the local newspaper was sitting next to me. During the Q&A she asked, “Would you support a war with China over Taiwan?” I don’t know why, but I like that kind of spunk. Her name is Liz, and she has a blog. I just checked it out for the first time. Sometimes it seems like everyone has a blog, but that’s far from true. There are still some very significant people who do not yet have blogs. (Use the stuff, Petey!)

::::   “You’re a traitor to the Pirate Cause!” —Squid the Urchin   :::

Wednesday, August 24th, 2005

 
Ian is heading out West. It will be an adventure.

How do I know it will be an adventure?

Because Ian is heading out West.

I remember the exact day that Ian turned cool. It was the same day my brother Jerome got married. I don’t recall the year, but during the wedding reception there was a precise moment when Ian turned unmistakably cool. Most likely he’d already been semi-cool for a long time.

I remember reading Ian’s blog for quite a while, but I guess it hurt too much, so I stopped. It made me think a lot about the painful stuff I couldn’t write down at his age. I hadn’t learned yet how to use my journal to transmute all that torment. I chose to do stupid stuff instead. It was a time when young people did a lot of stupid stuff. Maybe it was more like today than I recognize. Maybe not.

I also remember the time when another of my brothers decided to create a new nickname for Ian. James tried to get people to say “Largian.” It didn’t stick. Lot’s of things never stuck to Ian.

Good luck, my nephew.

Be safe. Have fun.

Various & Sundry, part nineteen

Sunday, June 26th, 2005

— Richard Benedetto’s recent column rests on that blurry line between news reporting and opinion, but it’s nevertheless a thought-provoking read. It’s title, “Turning old enemies into friends has long benefited the U.S.” makes me think about the other side of the coin: “Turning old enemies’ enemies into new enemies has long been the role of the U.S.” That’s the part of this issue most would agree on. And with the way things are, that’s probably the only part.

— The enormous virus/spam wave that’s going on right now is a huge problem. That’s why I get such a kick out of finding a sparkle of joy in the whole mess: Spam as Folk Art—the only silver lining out there. Last week my email service had 1.6 million mails hit their machines. Some 500,000 were rejected as viruses, and a bit over 800,000 rejected as spam, leaving some 200,000 or so to be delivered as legitimate mail (hopefully), but some crap does get through. I feel for all the “good guys” trying hard to stay on the back of this tiger. Somewhere out there is a young vigilante looking for his cause. A suggestion: 1) round up every spammer and virus writer, 2) make them swallow an overdose of viagra while getting an enema bag of liquified mortgage applications on the other end. (Uh-oh… I told Brendan’s mom that this would be a mom-friendly blog).

— Just in case you notice half a grand of spare cash sitting on your dresser top, and you don’t particularly care for shooting real handguns, add a Han Solo Blaster to your cart (or, for the more civilized, a nifty lightsaber).

— OK, it’s time to be serious. Good news from Bruce
personally; they talked to him about his eventual transfer to a rehabilitation center, which is a clear sign that his medical situation is improving in a positive and predictable way. See that light at the end of the tunnel, my son? I pray you’re there in no time!

— Best wishes to my brother Jay and his bride Glenda, who got hitched in Liberty this morning among a large contingent of our Clan. God bless you both, and may all our dreams meet to expand His glory.

V & S

Day of Clan

Saturday, June 4th, 2005

All of a sudden the visited links color has switched from violet to black. Hmm… maybe it has something to do with Brendan fixing the style sheet so that my entries don’t look like a single, continuous line. Speaking of Brendan, it was good to see him yesterday. He turned us on to “Pirate’s Cove,” perhaps the coolest board game I’ve ever played (gotta try “Ticket to Ride” next). It was also fun to be with Alyx on her big day. I really think she liked the “Arts & Crafts Companion” we got her, plus my photorama (number two). A huge “thanx” to the Keepsters, who always throw an enjoyable bash. Marty and I headed up to one of our knobs and kicked around until sunset, then we took some pictures of the evening mist sliding through the Valley. I’ll feel stupid if I end up getting poison ivy.

One of those ~bbBOIIINNG~ moments

Thursday, June 2nd, 2005

Something Brendan said yesterday really got me fixated on a line of thought. For some reason I don’t consider myself a writer (perhaps a diarist or “journal-ist” at best), and yet telling stories has been a part of my imaginative side for as long as I can remember— whether illustrative, oral, or written. The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer may have been the first nonlinear story, but I didn’t read Homer (just the condensed juvenile versions) until long after my brothers and I had begun to create a rich oral/written tradition that’s almost 50 years old now. It’s nonlinear nature is one of its strongest suits. It’s been called various things over the years, but now we generally refer to it as “The Legend.” If I keep thinking about this I’ll have the ingredients for another Oldenday segment.

Various & Sundry, part eighteen

Wednesday, June 1st, 2005

— Month of May workout totals: Swim-6; Bike-0; Run-2; Lift-0.

— I won’t even try to elaborate on the sad state of my fitness program. At least I continue to swim, although I need to boost that monthly total to a minimum of eight workouts. On the bright side, I had a decent session yesterday and was only a second off my all-time fastest 4-lap sprint. Now, when am I going to get back on my bike?

— In the past 24 hours or so, my niece Caitlan (sister of
Brendan) successfully winged her way to Europe. Her mom’s advice: “Have the time of your life!” I’ll second that motion.

— I spoke to Josh Sunday when he called during the Clan gathering. I really didn’t know what to say to him. I’m terrible on the phone in those situations. Always have been, I guess. We talked a little about his current assignment, until he goes back out on the road, and whether his area was in danger of any mortar attacks. I told him how much I support what he’s doing, but it didn’t sound as strong as I feel about it. You know, if I had to make my log entries with a telephone I’d never do it. I’d just scrap
this whole thing.

Bruce has dodged another bullet, enabling him to fight onward toward the day he gets to go home. Frankly, I don’t know what a home life is going to be like for him when it’s restored, but I’m certain he looks forward to it with an abiding desire that provides a strong source of fortitude. I’m aware that I haven’t mentioned his wife much in this log. Perhaps I’m not confident enough in my own kindness to put thoughts in writing. At this point I’ll just describe a funny New Yorker cartoon that seems apropos: A man is lying in a hospital bed, appearing totally down and out. Tubes, cords, and medical technology are everywhere. A doctor with a somewhat forlorn expression is standing beside a woman dressed in pearls and a fur wrap. Her expression is one of exasperation. She says, “I can’t believe this is happening to me.”

V & S

If you smell it, too

Saturday, May 21st, 2005

I’ve finally discovered the blogger’s hazard of embedding links that fester and ooze and eventually shrivel and dry, like a dead mouse carcass.

Just keep going

Friday, April 8th, 2005

It’s now hitting me that it’s rather dangerous to enter the IU medical library and sit down in front of a keyboard, given my internal whirl of emotions and a state of French-roast-induced mental hyperventilation. Oh well, here goes…

Even in the year 2005, at one of the top hospitals in the Midwest, medical decision makers still don’t routinely punch catheters into a sick man’s torso and drain it like a dirty crankcase. They have to seriously think about it first. And then they have to assemble a crack professional team. Neither will they go in blind, but insist on using precise, x-ray imaging to guide them. That’s why Bruce had to endure yet another wait as technicians fiddled with the CT scanner.

But over the next few hours an astonishing sequence unfolded. After coming through surgery (with multi-hued banners rippling in the wind), he was soon off the IV sedation, breathing on his own, and writing truncated notes on the paper he’d asked for with sign language. By evening his ventilator tubes had been removed and he was insightfully recounting his ordeal. When we marveled at his vocabulary he dismissed it with a quip: “For all you know, Art Buchwald could be in the next cubicle.” I was moved not only by the return of his wit, but by all the other honest, pure-hearted expressions that he earnestly and meticulously communicated to each of us who paid a visit.

He told us that he wanted, more than ever, to view “The Passion of the Christ,” so he could be reminded of someone who had suffered more than he.

I am indeed proud of my courageous son and how he persevered though his silent trial and emerged with love, optimism, humility, wisdom, and good manners. I think it was Winston Churchill who said, “If you’re going through hell, keep going.”

I, too, imply whole words with a sentence

Saturday, March 26th, 2005

I don’t often do it, but when I hopscotch through a chain of blogs, linking forward through one of the next favorites, it’s like jumping out the door of an “el” car, bolting across the platform, and then jumping back on another. It’s WILD! You can read anybody’s diary in the whole world, man!!

How Wednesdays ought to be

Wednesday, March 16th, 2005

It’s been a good day so far. Long-awaited check in the mail. Successful client presentation. And welcome confirmation that someone reads this log… and appreciates the quiet tragedy of hat loss.