Archive for the ‘Family’ Category
Wednesday, February 28th, 2007
— Month of February workout totals: Swim-5; Bike-2; Run-1; Lift-2; Yoga-0
— It was one of those days. A client rejects a journal cover illustration because she doesn’t understand my idea. Word arrives that I’ve been accepted as a full member of the Layerist Society, with eligibility for a national exhibition at the University of New Mexico. Do I drop my plan to redo the Band Festival painting at a larger size and accept my so-called “study” as the version to publish?
— Brendan’s Anacrusis stories have been quite good lately, on the eve of his departure for England, and I got a kick out of an obscure allusion to Benedict’s 9 that may or may not have been intentional, (but it doesn’t matter to me; I still enjoy thinking about what “The Mutants” could have become if Heroes hadn’t killed it, execution-style).
— A Mombonian Correction! She tells me that my entry of February 12 was in error, because she would not have dared go into that St. Henry pipe after a storm. “Don’t you know how scared of water I am?” she scolded me. Yeah, but I thought that was the reason why… Well, it’s how I’ve remembered the story all these years. My goof. I challenged her to set the record straight in her own blog, but she hasn’t done it yet. According to her, if she had actually tried the crazy act I described, she never would’ve made it to the end of the long tunnel alive, and I wouldn’t even exist today to botch her childhood exploits. Or maybe I would be the proud son of a legendary stunt-woman and, having followed in her footsteps, live on the beach in Malibu!
— After his examination, Jerome informed Dana that her knee was not injured as seriously as first suspected. Great news. Coincidentally, her rejuvenation diet is perfectly timed for the second of my March experiments.
V & S
Posted in Blogging, Brendan, Dana, Exercise, Fiction, Jerome, Mombo, Studio, Television | Comments Closed
Tuesday, February 27th, 2007
Last evening, just as I was preparing to depart for a key presentation to the Danville City Commission, Dana was coming up the stairs and hurt the knee she’s been carefully nursing for a month or more. It was weird to leave the house with her sitting on the floor, the painful joint bundled in ice packs.
In my remarks, I provided a formal introduction to B.I.K.E. | Boyle County and our organization’s purpose and priorities. This was the fourth meeting of the newly composed city government. My friends Bill S and Dave A followed, summarizing our infrastructure recommendations and the diverse benefits of creating a bicycle-friendly community. The Commission voted unanimously to approve the “Safe Routes to School” grant application that we developed in collaboration with the city manager. As we approach the first anniversary of our local group, it was a great milestone for our pro-cycling advocacy.
When I got home I realized that Dana’s injury had taken a turn for the worse, so we decided to listen to Hayley’s tournament game on the radio instead of traveling to Garrard County. The Lady Rebels crushed cross-town rival Danville, with our amazing Belle putting the game out of reach in the second quarter (after a slow start). She ended up scoring 25 points, with a strong free-throw percentage.
Dana is heading down to Campbellsville with Terie to see Jerome this morning, and I’m praying for the best diagnosis. Whatever happens, she’ll be dedicating herself to a natural recovery, and I’ll do everything I can to help out along the way.
Posted in Angst, Community, Dana, Family, Friends, Jerome, Prayer, Public Service, Sport | Comments Closed
Saturday, February 24th, 2007
With the “Compassion” exhibit over, Dana and I went to Joan’s Fourth Street duplex and joined her work crew (after I picked up my collage from EKU and we split a quick Chinese lunch). We tackled the kitchen wood-staining job and then I did various other tasks—took some steel wool to the leaded-glass window, primed some faux paneling in the foyer, put a second coat on the kick-plate, and touched up the mantle edging. We laughed when the disposal of a used paint roller triggered the unforgotten, ever-dissociated “Makko-Bird” declaration. The day flew by and I was totally beat by the time I realized I should quit. Undoubtedly my exhaustion was intensified by the fumes, plus the crash from a wickedly sweet bliss bar that Dana brought back from Starbucks. Joan treated us to a late Mexican dinner and we sang “Happy Birthday” to Mombo over the cell phone.
These must be the “good old days.”
Posted in Dana, Family, Food, Joan, Mombo | Comments Closed
Tuesday, February 20th, 2007
Early childhood accumulation is the most authentic form of collecting—that first little box or drawer with trinkets to stimulate the bud of imagination. Certain special shards of quartz from your “rock store” just couldn’t be carelessly tossed back into the driveway gravel, could they? When it came to postcards or match-packs, adults would facilitate, but most likely it wasn’t their idea at the outset. Not all children collect, but for many of us, the desire was innate. What was it about that hoard of popsicle sticks or milk-jug caps that gave us a tingle of satisfaction? It was only a small step of forward progress to coins, stamps, baseball cards, books, antique tools, vintage toys, etcetera. Or was it the opposite of progress? Some types of collections made you feel “big,” but now I am, and everywhere in the world of grownups are admonishments to clean up the mess, downsize, and banish your clutter. I caught a few minutes of Dr. Phil the other day, apparently a whole program about the dysfunctional pack-rat, in which the message was unequivocal—needing to keep all that junk is the latest fear-based personality disorder.
Well, maybe it is, but I was happy to recently discover the other side of the spectrum with In Flagrante Collecto, Professor Marilynn Gelfman Karp’s fascinating, richly illustrated treatise on our essential impulse to acquire—the rare, the strange, the unsung, and the incidental. How, as a life-long collector, she’s found the ability to survey the topic with such intelligent objectivity is quite remarkable to me. She defines six shared traits among all collectors:
1) Unquestionable Dominion • the total mastery of your self-defined territory.
2) Hands-On Gratification • the satisfying communion with your booty.
3) Empowerment by Delimitation • the boundaries and criteria of allowable desire.
4) Hunting and Gathering • the fulfillment of discernment plus the exhilaration of the quest.
5) Possession • the self-affirming ownership of historical era by osmosis.
6) Husbanding and Transference of Characteristics • the salient attributes of the collection which accrue to the collector.
Her bottom-line assessment is that “loving the unloved is the purest state of collecting from which all collectors’ motives may be deduced. An object of material culture is any object that a person deems worthy of collecting.”
I suppose most of us who face piles of stuff fall somewhere in the middle of the continuum between connoisseur and cripple. So the question remains—what do I do with all of it? Much has no intrinsic value and begs to be pitched (if it isn’t actually begging, then my patient mate surely is). To me, it’s an archival record of what has appealed to heart, head, and hand throughout my life. Ah, precisely… there’s the source of its abiding interest to me. It represents the creative opportunity to organize, process, synthesize, repurpose, and present to others a “culminating artifact” that maybe, just maybe, will achieve some level of extrinsic value greater than its inherent nature as a sum of overlooked ingredient elements.
Will that make it art? It’s worth a try…
Olden…
Posted in Angst, Art, Creativity, Dana, Nonfiction, Personalities, Psychology | Comments Closed
Sunday, February 18th, 2007
All weekend long I was thinking about describing the progress Dana and I were making on our conference room project, but then we decided to watch Clint Eastwood’s Flags of Our Fathers tonight and the entire post that I had composed in my head just melted away. That’s what thinking about the Battle of Iwo Jima does to me…
Posted in Blogging, Dana, History, Movies, Personalities | Comments Closed
Wednesday, February 14th, 2007
Yesterday my favorite big sis had her birthday, and I won’t comment about whether I think she’s officially “pushin’ 60” or not, but I need to confess that one of my hand-made greeting cards was not among her collection this year.
When I made the decision to cut back the activity at John’s HAUS of CARDS, I figured I’d still be making my originals for family, but the redeployment of my creative resources has decimated the old HAUS far more than I ever expected, and I miss that time spent meditating on my loved ones. I haven’t found a happy medium yet, but I must, because I’ve always refused to do store-bought cards. I can’t start now—not at my age…
Of course, this is a nontrivial matter. An artist can take many paths, and most of them will cross minefields of egocentricity. I’ll need to be on guard as I make my shift from a gift orientation to this new focus on personal artistic goals. I believe it will all balance out over time, but there are sure to be some pitfalls ahead. What appeals to me about the “Layerist Premise” is the emphasis on connectedness and a holistic perspective. Much of the art in my life has been in service to a specific recipient or client. I must take the positive aspects of that motivational framework and merge them with an effort to evolve my own voice, to avoid the undesirable side effects of self-absorption so prevalent in the world of art.
Hey, enough of that— My valentine sweetie awaits!
Posted in Angst, Art, Creativity, Family, Joan, Priorities, Psychology | Comments Closed
Monday, February 12th, 2007
Sometimes these deadline experiences are like chuting down a pipeline—there’s no thought to doing anything but surrendering to the power of the flow, all the time hoping you make it to the end of the tunnel without a disaster. Mombo used to talk about when she was a kid, and they would play in a rain-swollen ditch, letting the water suck them into a storm-water culvert that ran under the street. Long ago that image got stuck in my mind when I realized I’d chosen a deadline-driven lifestyle. So, for what it’s worth, that’s what the suction of a deadline is like for me. (Her story also convinced me that my mother really was a tomboy, in case there’s any doubt about it.)
And, so I made it to the end of the latest chute today, presenting my study for a painting I’m developing to feature on this year’s poster for the Great American Brass Band Festival. The new executive director is delighted with my approach. The idea has a focus on the music makers. I want to illustrate the intensity of the performances with a montage composition. I don’t know why I always have to complicate things, rather than come up with a simple idea, other than the fact that “less is more” is easier said than done. I’m excited about the idea of including Vince prominently in the artwork. He’s always been the inspiration for much of my toil on behalf of the Festival.
Now, all I have to do is complete the final version by the end of the month without getting stuck in that darn storm pipe.
— A Mombonian Correction!
Posted in Art, Community, Creativity, Mombo, Music, Personalities, Time | Comments Closed
Saturday, February 10th, 2007
I’m chest deep in deadline mode, plugging toward a Monday presentation, but I have to stop for a moment and muse a bit about the wonderful womenfolk in my Clan.
My sister Jeanne stopped by yesterday and made a gesture of astonishing generosity that I won’t describe here, but that warmed my heart. A week ago, my sister Joannie gave a gift of her time and helped us make progress on our remodeled conference room with “galley kitchen” project. I have amazing sisters and I try to convince myself that I deserve them.
Yesterday, my niece Jerusha had her third baby—this time a girl—named Torrance Rylee. She has long fingers and is sweet to behold. Dana and I stopped by the hospital for a spell before heading out to the high school to watch my niece Hayley lead her team to a decisive win over a good team that defeated them earlier in the season. It was a 28-pointer for our Belle, by my count, and that missed her season high by a point. I was really rooting for another basket, but she kept feeding her teammates instead, helping them in achieving their own season highs. Magnanimous… like her mother and father, and like her Grandy-bo, too. I also thought about the other grandfather she never knew—Len. He might have been even more proud than any of us last night.
Susan and James came to watch, and I found out that my niece Rita will be studying in Europe this summer—traveling, writing, and making photographs. I can’t wait to enjoy the results of that creative adventure. And, speaking of adventures, my niece Caitlan has added competitive rowing to her extraordinary schedule at Oxford, England. Unreal. Keep it up, KK!
They’re all so awesome, and I could go on with more, but I’ve already rambled for too long. It’s time to return to the drawing board, and I’ll be thinking about my Uncle Bob’s noteworthy proposition that the story of our family is a story of strong women. Indeed it is.
Posted in Caitlan, Dadbo, Dana, Education, Family, Gratitude, James, Jeanne, Joan, Sport, Studio | Comments Closed
Tuesday, February 6th, 2007
Much is going on—my concept for the new Band Festival poster is at critical mass, I’m convening a cyclists’ meeting tonight to discuss our upcoming presentation before the City Commission, and the Medicine Woman is putting her moccasin firmly in the Graybeard Prospector’s hind end. That being said, I’m thinking about Seranus Victor Seitz, who turns 90 tomorrow.
My Uncle Si was born in the midst of the Great War, but the next time the entire world was back at war, he was more than old enough to sign up. Like Dadbo, he went into the USAAF and became a fly-boy. He named his fighter plane after his kid sister. Most of us learned about this only recently. Even Mombo had forgotten about it, and she was overcome with emotion when the fact resurfaced with an old photo. I think it has something to do with Uncle Si scrupulously avoiding any romantic entanglements before he shipped off. Apparently he didn’t expect to survive the combat that faced him. Neither did a lot of others, including the brass. These boys could “do no wrong,” because, hell, they probably wouldn’t make it back tomorrow anyway, so why give ’em a hard time? For example, when Uncle Si buzzed a control tower because some generals were up there and Uncle Luke was watching. I wouldn’t be surprised if that was one of the more tame episodes.
Uncle Si got to the skies of Europe as the Luftwaffe was fading into history. Air-to-air wasn’t the primary mission at that point in the war, so he provided ground support as a tank buster and dive bomber. But don’t be mistaken—the anti-aircraft defenses of a desperate Wehrmacht must have been pure wickedness. On top of that, Uncle Si said that every day he got into the cockpit, he might be sitting behind a new aircraft engine more powerful than the previous one he’d gotten used to. All he would know before takeoff was the numerical boost in horsepower. He told us once about the fine art of blasting a locomotive. The pilot needs to swoop elliptically at a low angle to avoid being caught above the massive steam explosion. You get the feeling he learned that by watching somebody else get it wrong, or perhaps he narrowly missed boiling himself like a lobster the first time he bombed a train. He tells stories like that without braggadocio, but you can always see the intensity in his eyes. Like most WWII vets, he doesn’t think of himself as a hero. In their minds, that word more properly describes all those pals that never returned. I guess you can’t differ with that kind of logic.
Uncle Si is known for inspiring a famous word in the Dixonary: Sicu. Basically it can be defined as a “lame excuse.” The original sicu was the time he said, “We’ll come down one of these weekends I take off.” It was no secret that Uncle Si might go months without taking a weekend off. It bummed us out to hear that, and so we were forced to bestow the dubious honor. Years later, when I was living in Dayton and my brother James was putting in long hours at AdMart, we laughed at my notion, “You’ll take off one of these weekends I come down.”
Uncle Si is one of those uncles that you love too much to ever tell him, and I know that doesn’t make any sense, but you just can’t tell a tough guy things like that because he’s made you tough, too, just because you’ve loved him. Like Mombo used to say, “Luke probably started the fight, and if Bob couldn’t talk them out of it, Si had to finish it.”
Eventually he helped finish the biggest one—over sixty years ago, up in the sky, above the devastated fatherland of his ancestors—but he came back home and made it to his tenth decade, with a sweetheart he didn’t think he’d ever get the chance to find.
God bless him!
Posted in Birthdays, Business, Community, Dadbo, Family, History, James, Mombo, Studio, Technology, Time, Words | Comments Closed
Friday, February 2nd, 2007
— Month of January workout totals: Swim-7; Bike-1; Run-3; Lift-1; Yoga-0
— It looks like Mother Nature took a chain-saw to Florida’s midsection overnight. I need to find out if any of the damaged areas are where we have family. I hope not. Here in Central Kentucky we have our first blanket of snow for 2007. No Rotary Club meeting today. The schedule is tied to Danville Schools, which are closed. I’m going to have to keep an eye on the weather for a few days. The national football holiday is coming up this weekend and that’s when we do our afternoon Super Bowl Sunday mountain-bike “ride around the block” in Forkland. Twenty miles, four knobs, and plenty of time to ponder our own sanity (or lack thereof). It looks to be slippery and a bit on the frigid side. The moment of truth comes after the first climb (Elk Cave Knob), and a rider must decide whether to opt for the 11-mile short route or go for the full deal. I’ve been known to go either direction, depending on how numb my sense of self-preservation has become at this point in the ride.
— For many years, my Clan had a tradition of gathering as a “planning committee” in January. It didn’t make sense in one way, because it was basically the same people who would ordinarily attend a regular Clan Council, but the mood was a bit more “visionary,” and that made it a special annual event. It started out as my idea and I’d always chair the meeting. Back in the 80s we’d sometimes hold it at the homes of various householders, rather than at the farm. This past Sunday we put that era behind us and moved forward into a new one that begins with Mombo’s Trust. Our desire for a more “corporate” structure with a solid legal foundation has been a long-standing family goal. It goes back to the formation of the Clan as we know it. It goes back to a time before the planning meeting. All things must change. Congratulations to the Clan, but let’s hope we can occasionally slip back into that old practice of sharing our dreams.
— There’s street smart, and then there’s street smart. It depends on which streets we’re talking about (right?), and when it comes to Josh, we’re talking about Baghdad. I inquired on Sunday about whether he’s heard anything about possible orders to return, but he just shook his head. He was recently out in Kansas, where he reportedly spent his days waging video war games from a comfortable hotel room. He’s also been asked to spend time with other soldiers on the eve of their overseas deployment, and if I know Josh, he won’t be sugarcoating what kind of attitude he thinks it takes to get the job done and make it home. I wonder at times to what degree our forces find it necessary to blur lines that the rest of us think are always morally hard-edged. I had a talk with Marty about Iraq not too long ago and I posed the question, “Does success in warfare require doing evil?” His reply: “GrandyJohn, that’s the whole point. We can’t. We’re Americans.” Damn good answer.
V & S
Posted in Community, Current Events, Exercise, Family, Friends, Josh, Marty, Mombo | Comments Closed
Thursday, January 25th, 2007
At the end of the workday, Dana and I rushed over to EKU for the opening reception of the “Compassion” exhibition. I saw Beth and Jim at first, and was even more surprised to see that Mombo had come along with Joan. I felt oddly self-conscious, almost as if I was sure they’d be disappointed. It was a completely irrational thing, because everybody seemed to think it was an interesting show, and the best part was to be together and talk about it. My collage earned a hundred-dollar merit award. I also got to meet and talk to Dobree Adams. The head of the art department told me about the media and animation lab he’s currently setting up. After a quick inspection of progress on Fourth Street House, we had a yumptious Indian dinner with Joan and Mombo to top off a very special night. The others had to dance around the big news, because I hadn’t recently paid a visit to NFD, but I found out as soon as I got home —Brendan is doing it!
Posted in Art, Blogging, Brendan, Dana, Education, Food, Friends, Joan, Mombo | Comments Closed
Tuesday, January 23rd, 2007
My sis is meeting her chum Deb at Centre tonight for a MoLM performance. I taped the Lithgow made-for-TV version a while back, but never watched it. Joan says it’s worth viewing. Dana made a delicious chicken dinner for Joan and me before the show. We were planning to stay home and watched the SoTU on television, but Jeanne stopped by earlier with some Planet-made Rebel sweatshirts, and now I want to go watch Belle play ball. I’ll catch the C-SPAN re-air later.
I still regard the president as a genuine leader, but only one of three Americans is still following him, which isn’t a major problem, unless, of course, he turns out to be wrong. Anybody who talks as though his legacy is settled, or offers foregone outcomes about what he’s set in motion, is merely engaging in ideological speculation. The history of our era is far from having been written. None of us knows how this will turn out, and I can’t be convinced otherwise…
Posted in Current Events, Dana, Family, Jeanne, Joan, Political Affairs, Presidency, Television | Comments Closed
Sunday, January 21st, 2007
During my early six-miler yesterday morning, I couldn’t help but brag on my niece to the other runners. Boyle’s Friday-night win over Lincoln was a huge upset, and, even though the opposing team played poorly in many respects, it was an extraordinary thing how, at a point in the basketball game when her team could have resigned themselves to a loss, Hayley took a leadership role on the floor and sparked an improbable, heart-pounding rally. Joan and Mombo were there, too, and it was fun to share the experience. With the newspaper write-up on Thursday, it was a big week for our Number 3.
Posted in Exercise, Family, Joan, Mombo, Sport | Comments Closed
Friday, January 19th, 2007
I think I understand why writers must write. It’s really no different than why sketchers must draw or why dancers must move, but why do we read? Why do we engage in this intensely self-centered activity with books? And what’s even more perplexing to me is why our society seems to exalt this particular kind of internal isolation, because, for the most part, it raises a collective eyebrow at meditators or deep, introspective thinkers. It wouldn’t be considered socially acceptable to spend much time playing golf by yourself, or going to movies by yourself, or drinking by yourself (certainly not), but almost all of us feel differently about reading.
My friend Danny would say we must read to train and develop the mind—to understand influences and work backward to the early sources, the original premises.
My “big sissy” is a librarian, so I asked her, and she said that reading makes us a more interesting person—reading may be solitary, but it’s not inherently selfish.
Watkins, Wolfe, Hammett, Hemingway, Twain . . . Why do I read their fiction? What am I looking for?
Every so often, I find myself listening to the lyrics of Eric, a talented friend. He writes:
You can seek your life to find
Answers that satisfy your mind,
But Jesus spared your life by giving his,
And, Brother— That’s all there is.
Posted in Angst, Creativity, Family, Fiction, Friends, Joan, Music, Personalities, Words | Comments Closed
Monday, January 15th, 2007
Mombo made a nice entry in her blog about her memories of St. Henry, Ohio. You should go there. I mean the blog, not the town, although it’s really a pleasant place to visit, too. I’ve always liked to hear stories about her years there. We made some photos in St. Henry on the day of the Gels 70th wedding anniversary.
I just learned from my good friend Bill Barefoot that two of the buddies we fish with in Michigan, JD and Jack, both lost their mothers within the past week. Bill sent the following message to me (and anybody else listening):
Cherish your mothers while you can.
Left to right: Mombo at St. Henry Church (where she was baptized in 1925); Mombo with her brothers Jack and Art (at the corner of Columbus and Sycamore Streets); Mombo outside the house where she was born.
Posted in Family, Friends, Mombo | Comments Closed
Saturday, January 13th, 2007
Because I was out there moving before daybreak in that stinging rain, I guess it means I’ve managed to re-infect myself with the running bug. So far so good, when it comes to one 2007 resolution. On mornings like this I have to work at mentally distracting myself, so I was thinking about someone who recently talked about their dreams of flying. At the time I wasn’t sure I could recall one of my own. Last night I had a real doozy of a flying dream. There was nothing about the actually flying that seemed unusual. Since it was foggy in my dream, I was concentrating mainly on avoiding smokestacks, tower antennae, and power lines. There’s only one reason I can think of as to why I might have dreamed that—learning about the announcement of a proposed high-tension transmission line that will cross Garrard County. The map published in the newspaper this week appears to locate it uncomfortably close to Kelley Ridge. David confirmed my suspicion when I showed it to him. I’d assume Joan had heard about it, but found out she hadn’t when Marty and I stopped to have dinner. It was nice, very delicious, and a joy to spend time with her at her cozy home (the house that Joe built, but Joan burnished). The lad and I took the opportunity to visit on our way back from EKU. I had to deliver an artwork accepted to the “Compassion” show at the Giles Gallery.
Posted in Art, Exercise, Joan, Marty, Technology | Comments Closed
Thursday, January 11th, 2007
As usual, I’m scratching along in my own analytical way, looking for “keys.” For me, that often involves attempts at integrating various “reality maps” I’ve encountered that make sense as individual systems. Numerology would be one example, but seems limited when I approach it in isolation. Feng Shui has appeal, but I haven’t totally bought into the premise. For a long time, Bruce has made references to Chinese medicine, but my investigation into Chinese thought has been confined to a study of the Book of Changes or I Ching.
Today I read a short magazine article by Mark Blessington. We must think along the same lines, because he’s made an impressive start at applying the principles of Chinese medicine to the relationships between money and people. There’s often a fine distinction between genuine insight and wacky diversion, I must admit, but I would say that Blessington’s ideas about achieving a balance in money elements deserves the benefit of the doubt.
And so we press on with our attempts to synthesize the unbridgeable gaps of knowledge and to learn the unknowable truths, like why you can’t find a missing object until you tell somebody else that you lost it. We’ll continue to look for the profound answers that elude us all, to understand why time always speeds up every Thursday night during NBC’s telecast of “The Office,” and to solve the many riddles of a mysterious universe.
Posted in Family, Nonfiction, Numbers, Personalities, Television, Time | Comments Closed
Tuesday, January 9th, 2007
— If you like Howard Pyle, N.C. Wyeth, and the “Golden Age of American Illustration,” Paul Giambarba has put together a smashing collection of biographical notes, artistic comments, and rarely seen images. I just love this handsome stuff, and tip my hat to anyone who would spend the personal time to compile such an extensive reference site.
— I grabbed a few moments of “mind time” in Harrodsburg while Dana got a haircut, thinking LJS would be a relatively quiet place at that time of day, but the music was a bit more electric-70s than I was expecting. I still haven’t given up on achieving a new level of organization, and it’s that time of year anyway. Business development remains priority one. Nevertheless, I find myself pulled continuously in a different direction with so many art deadlines and volunteer responsibilities demanding my attention. I have another milestone facing me within a week as part of my contractual obligation to the Band Festival as 2007 featured artist. And I must make steady progress on preparations for a one-man show in May at the Community Arts Center. If I don’t find a way to more successfully block out my time, there are some intense experiences that I won’t be able to avoid this year. One good new client would take much of the heat off our situation, and that has to be my focus, one way or another.
— We had a full house at the B.I.K.E. meeting tonight, including our newly sworn-in mayor. It was an important kick-off for the year, a discussion of our first major proposal to the city for infrastructure enhancements and repairs. If I didn’t have so many experienced community leaders at the table, I think I’d probably spin my wheels a lot, but they have a way of making sure I keep getting the traction we need (I don’t know if that pun was intentional or not).
— Dana and I continue to chip away at our three hours of P.J. O’Rourke on tape. He says he dislikes memoirs, and so I can only assume he’s never read the extraordinary Paul Watkins book, Stand Before Your God. He really doesn’t like bloggers either. According to him it’s like “what I did last summer” for adults, and he seems to detest the whole phenomenon. As far as this blog goes, it appears we have an every-other-day pattern of entries developing and that suits me fine. It’s half the level of blogging I was doing a year ago, arguably a more reasonable pace for my current situation. If you desire more than that, dear reader, all I can say it this: you must have way too much time on your hands.
V & S
Posted in Art, Blogging, Business, Community, Dana, Nonfiction, Personalities, Studio | Comments Closed
Sunday, January 7th, 2007
Good Grief. I just read Keillor’s first syndicated column of the year. For somebody who got famous being humorous and touching at the same time, it’s painful to cringe through something with that much self-righteous venom. He’s far too good a writer to inflict that on a reader, but it was my choice to partake. It’s like deciding to sit in front of Meryl Streep and have her look directly at you and weep.
Looking for an antidote, I sat down to watch a few minutes of P.J. O’Rourke on “In Depth,” who was talking about how much writers dislike the act of writing. He said something very close to this: “No writer who I respect says they love the writing part. I suppose the only people who love writing are bloggers. Blogs are free—and worth it.”
Yow. One of those days. I’d better go accomplish something.
There you have it, Ian. You just got your money’s worth.
Posted in Blogging, Ian, Nonfiction, Personalities, Political Affairs, Television | Comments Closed
Friday, January 5th, 2007
Wednesday was hardly “a modest resurfacing.” It must have seemed more like the gasping rise of an underwater swimmer, so I’ll go easy this time.
I was introduced to numerology in 1978 by a client, and make no excuse for continuing to consider it just about the most uncanny thing I’ve ever encountered. The key to its appreciation is tuning into the idea that there are fundamental “essences” at play in life, and that our species has come up with things like numbers, letters, and other symbols to represent their meaning. This process of abstraction we use to make sense of unseen forces is also at the root of mathematics and music, and yet numerology is regarded as the oddball disclipline of the three.
Today was the first vibratory six of the year, the essence of caregiving, responsibility, and selfless service. My Dadbo was fraught with sixes—no surprise. Because 2007 is a “six year” for me on a personal level, I was curious to see how the day “felt.”
It felt extraordinarily good . . .
Posted in Dadbo, Music, Numbers | Comments Closed
Wednesday, January 3rd, 2007
It sounds strange, but President Ford never seemed like an entirely substantial figure in my personal perceptions. I don’t mean in the sense of credibility or political weight, but in the literal sense of being a real person. I happened to have been living in Brussels as a student worker during the second half of 1974 and missed those supposedly multi-orgasmic constitutional spasms of the day that everyone else can usually describe in great detail. As a result, the culmination of the Watergate crisis has always felt to me like a hazy historical event, and, by extension, the 38th President like a big pretend creature from a B movie, as though one of Ian’s old Frankenstein drawings had been put in charge of the government.
They didn’t consider us “interns” back then. The term was reserved for medical trainees and I was called a “co-op,” just like Mombo was back in the early 40s. As I’ve probably described before, I remember listening to the Nixon resignation speech as it was piped by loudspeaker into the morning streets of Amsterdam, while I leaned sleepily from the open window of a youth hostel, during one of my weekend forays into that Dutch shrine of “70s-ness.” So when I returned to the States before Christmas and finally took stock of President Ford weeks later, it was like, “who the heck is this guy?”
Fast forward through the remaining two years of the Ford administration. Back then it didn’t take much to get me miffed about the national scene. I was still angry at Ford for endorsing mass inoculations to counter a Swine-Flu boogeyman, for his apparently feeble attempts to turn around the lousy economy that I faced as a university graduate, and his cold shoulder to the supreme Russian dissident of the century. I don’t remember what I thought about his pardon of Nixon—one more ghostly act from another dimension. I’d voted against Ford in ’76 while living in Chicago. Not really in favor of Carter (it was hard for me to take Jimmy seriously), I’d lost my enthusiasm for the campaign after neither of my two favorites, Eugene McCarthy and Ronald Reagan, had managed to prevail into the home stretch. As unfocused as they were, you can tell that my political attitudes tended toward the radical, and that was the one thing Gerry Ford indisputably was not. When Carter began to “self-destruct in five seconds,” I took an odd measure of pride in the fact that Ford had carried Illinois.
Fast forward again to a newly minted 2007 with one less Former President. Clearly it’s time to reflect on his rightful place in history, and I’ve softened my viewpoint considerably. I should have liked him more. He deserved it. Nevertheless, I can’t help but think that all the kind and appreciative things being said about Gerald R. Ford would still be equally true if he had not sought to retain the Presidency beyond his short stewardship, and, as confirmation of his quintessential unselfishness and towering decency, had stepped aside with the same dignity with which he had taken office—to have recognized his unique distinction as Healer among our chief executives, to have recognized the ascendancy of national conservatism over his frayed brand of Republican establishmentarianism, and to have recognized it was time to decisively pave the way for the next necessary phase of post-Nixonian resurgence—a fresh and bold style of visionary leadership for America.
Posted in Current Events, History, Ian, Mombo, Movies, Personalities, Presidency | Comments Closed
Monday, January 1st, 2007
— Year of 2006 workout totals: Swim-40; Bike-54; Run-27; Lift-56; Yoga-55
— An internal debate about whether to revive these journal entries came to a close on Christmas Eve when my nephew Ian asked me to start making them again. Over time, I might delve into my 14-week experience as a recovering blogger, but, for now, I just intend to make a modest resurfacing, and try to get some kind of rhythm back.
— It’s been ages since I got sick, or it seems that way at least, because I forgot what it felt like. I’ve missed the entire year-end celebration, but that’s the risk I took when I plunged into a sea of youth over the weekend, many of whom made no secret of having recently crawled from “the pit.”
— I was pleased with another variation on my thematic Grandy-bo series (the eleventh), which ended up in Crabtree hands at our Clan’s Chinese (Chine-Yine) gift exchange, but I took even greater satisfaction from a highly successful pencil and wash portrait of Marty for Terie’s Christmas present, along with the triumphant completion of Alyx’s large, mixed-media G-bo, which had me stumped for the better part of three years.
— The Butcher of Baghdad stretched twine before the end of the year, and, come on let’s face it, there was no way it wasn’t going to be controversial. As the Old Virginians liked to put it, “Sic Semper Tyrannis.” Happy New Year.
V & S
Posted in Art, Blogging, Current Events, Dadbo, Exercise, Family, Holidays, Ian, Marty, Political Affairs | Comments Closed