“When we kill women in our stories, we aren’t just annihilating female gendered bodies. We are annihilating the feminine as a force wherever it resides — in women, in men, of the natural world. Because what we really mean when we say we want strong female leads is: ‘Give me a man but in the body of a woman I still want to see naked.’ … I don’t believe the feminine is sublime and the masculine is horrifying. I believe both are valuable, essential, powerful. But we have maligned one, venerated the other, and fallen into exaggerated performances of both that cause harm to all. How do we restore balance?”
— Brit Marling 2/7/20
Archive for the ‘Television’ Category
Friday, March 6th, 2020
Saturday, February 8th, 2020
Robert Conrad
1 9 3 5 – 2 0 2 0
the quintessential
television star
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Friday, March 16th, 2018
“A movie, no matter how perfect, is a compact, finite experience that begins and ends over the course of the same evening. Watch it again and again, and you may notice something new each time, but the story itself will not change, nor will the character arcs. Even the greatest of films is a one-night stand, where a TV series is a relationship—between the creators and the characters, and then between the characters and the audience—that can last years, with changes both subtle and inescapable along the way.”
Sunday, July 16th, 2017
Martin Landau
1 9 2 8 – 2 0 1 7
an actor’s actor
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four days in late April
Monday, May 1st, 2017Thursday ~ Cared for Mombo at the Hall, and she was trying to shake off some cold symptoms. Joan got home as early as possible, so I could get back to Danville for drinks and dinner with the visiting brothers Andrew and Rory from South Africa, along with local friends (Lee and David with granddaughter). The owner of the Bluegrass Pizza Pub invited us to draw on the wall with chalk, but only Zoey and I took him up on it. I cannot remember ever being uncomfortable with a piece of chalk in my hand, which stimulates a direct, electromagnetic current to my imagination. Nor can I recall life before my chalkboard career, as a matter of fact. Like clockwork, Scott V turned 65 first today, but, for some reason, I haven’t reached out yet.
Friday ~ Spent a lot of time monitoring the stock market and setting up trades. Made a trip to Minuteman Press to arrange for the printing of the Carol & Bob portraits. The happy image was taken by someone at a Band Fest picnic years ago, but I have no recollection who it was — a total mystery. We watched the first disc of The Wire, Season Three. So far, there doesn’t seem to be any new ground being broken, but it always fascinates me to observe Dominic West’s acting, and the way he projects different characters without saying anything. I am still reading the new biography of Heston (Hollywood’s Last Icon), and the same basic sense of the great man is reinforced. Loaded with photos from his family archives. The first time I immersed myself in Heston, I was influenced by his values and principles. This time I am struck more with his stubborn refusal to allow personal, professional, or societal obstacles to remain unchallenged. Late in the evening I spent time on the phone with both Marty and Terie, trying to defuse another domestic flare-up. I believe they have exhausted their ability to live with each other at this point in their lives, and I can only trust them to resolve it and not let it spill over to affect those who love them.
Saturday ~ Up at 6am to go get a free load of compost from the city (out at their farm off Standford Road). Spent the rest of the morning working on the Town House yard, fueled by Subway’s new Keurig unit. Not a bad way to spend my birthday so far. We had a relaxing afternoon with early drinks, hot baths, and general sweetness. And then it was time to head to Lexington in search of Moules et Frites. We were early (imagine that), so we stopped into a pub to have a Belgian Red Ale. I was pleasantly surprised by its refreshingly dry, tart, slightly apple-vinegar quality, and it hit the spot better than a typical brew. Dana was still hobbling from her basement-stairs mishap, so we were moving a bit slow, but all went well. The moules marinière at Le Deauville were perhaps the tastiest mussels I have ever enjoyed, enhanced by an exceptional New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. I had crossed the line of no return into Medicare and hit the pillow hard when we arrived home.
Sunday ~ We had our typical brunch-with-morning-political-news-shows, and the exasperating scene in Washington, DC continues. Politicians are unwilling to forge anything balanced enough to anger everyone in the country, except for the few who remember what a compromise actually looks and sounds like. The problem is that most citizens who care are convinced that compromise will not actually solve anything and they want their side to hold sway. It hardens the polarity and ensures another pendulum swing. It is a pathological state. The rhetorical downtrend deepens. And, of course, many troubling problems such as health care only get worse. Later in the day we drove to Lexington to attend Drew Robertson’s graduation celebration. Dana was adequately ambulatory, but still treading very cautiously. It was a pleasant backyard bash. Mingling with extended relatives, plastic cup of iced Buffalo Trace in hand, I lost track of time and jeopardized our getting to Costco before it closed. Still feeling in the “birthday zone,” I treated myself to socks and underpants, and we finally had that misbehaving tire on the Avalon fixed.
A Day in My Life
Wednesday, September 21st, 2016“Woke up. Got out of bed.
Dragged a comb across my head.”
Dana was up early and walked over to Centre’s track before I woke up and found the coffee hot. I needed to finish the digital file retouching of the RFs color composite illustration. I wanted to be ready to send it to the printer by the time she returned from her Architectural Review Board meeting. We were able to do just that, and I hand-cut a prototype mat so that I could show James my idea for a standard 14 x 11 framable print. The water was still warm in Dana’s tub, so I took a quick bath and dressed for the day. She suggested we get some lunch after showing James the test print. On the way to pick it up, the Avalon sedan’s brakes went out right before we got to Danny the mechanic’s garage on South Fourth, so we rolled right in. Wayne D happened to be there and we talked to him about his scheduled lower leg amputation (not a decision anyone would make casually). Clearly it was his only option, and he was down to choosing the surgeon. While Dana arranged for the repairs, I started to walk home to get the Toyota pickup (Joben). Turns out I would get a walk under my belt, too. When I bent to pick up what looked like litter, I discovered it was a 20-dollar bill in poor condition. Well, that was the second bit of luck. When I got back to the garage, we headed to Minuteman Press to get back on schedule. The test print was terribly dark, but when they re-ran it at the lightest setting, it looked fine. We decided to go have a Mexican lunch nearby, and followed that with a stop at the ‘Bean’ coffee shop. When I inquired about the senior discount with the lady there, she didn’t even know it was mentioned on the menu, and we joked around for few minutes before finding out that she knew Susan and James. Her name was Tammy Bernard, and James had actually been her ‘bundle boy’ decades before at Liberty Sportwear (1980?). She looked quite fit, and sure enough she was a fellow Boot Camp devotee with Susan. Her husband, Bill Devine, is a physician at UK Health. She ended up enjoying our chat so much that she gave us our Americano cups on the house. On to the 10th Planet to see James. 
He liked the final artwork and test print, so Dana called in the quantity for the order. James handed me $50 and persuaded me to see if I could get all the mats cut at the Frame Cellar by the close of business. We picked up the prints and headed back downtown to John C’s shop. Dana told me that she had seen him unlocking his place after 6 am, and I was worried that he might not have stayed open all day, but he was there working. I was astonished to find out that he hadn’t been in his storefront since the first of the month and that he was “playing catch-up.” Not a good time to ask him to drop what he was doing, but my luck held. He was willing to cut the mats for James right then and there. He told me that he had been in Florida visiting his son Paden (named after the Kevin Kline character in Silverado), and when he got back to Kentucky, he had to turn around and go right back after learning Paden had crashed his motorcycle when a woman pulled out in front of him (she never even saw what she had done). For some reason, Paden had returned to the hospital after they released him, and it was discovered that he was bleeding internally from a small rupture in a renal artery. (The surgeon reportedly said, “If you had gone to bed, you probably wouldn’t have awoken the next day.”) So, I managed to pick the first day he was back in the frame shop after this family ordeal, and to top it off, he gave me a discount on the whole rush job. I told him he had to think up a reason to ask me for a big favor. Back in the studio, I put all the new prints into the mats while Dana did the paperwork for James. I dropped her off at Danny’s garage before I went back to see James at the Planet. He was very satisfied with everything he needed for his RF gathering in Ohio. He and Susan were planning on leaving the next morning, and he was “trying to squeeze five days of work into three.” Even though he still had a late night ahead of him, he was in a relaxed mood and we talked about the extraordinary event on Blue Bank Road when the missing todder was found on the Sweeney Knob after a ten-hour search involving local first responders, hundreds of volunteers, and multiple law enforcement entities. This week will always be remembered for the miraculous rescue of the little Chumbley boy in the Clan Valley “forcefield.” Thousands of people must have been praying, but nobody’s pleas could have been more pure than Mombo’s. When I returned, Dana had brought home some organic wine, so I opened a bottle and we made fruit-&-nut plates for supper and watched three episodes of The Affair. I liked them enormously, except for one part that can only be described as pornographic. It was obvious why Maura T (Helen) had been nominated for an Emmy. I could not believe that Sebastian Junger did a cameo (was it meant to be tongue-in-cheek?), but I got a major kick out of his appearance. What a day! Very intense on many levels, but without the characteristic “fears and doubts.” It was time for bed, in preparation for an early start to prepare for my multi-day care-giving stay with Mombo (when I hope to finally complete the oak-trim details above the stone flue). There won’t be many more quite like today…
Anticipating a dry spell . . .
Thursday, July 16th, 2015Within 48 hours, I watched the series finale of Mad Men and the last episode of Deadwood. I have no idea how long it will be before there is an opportunity to see more TV at the level of these shows. For someone who has television as deeply grafted onto his DNA as me, this is a rather unsettling outlook.
An Ideal Day
Monday, September 8th, 2014There are different types of ideal days.
For me, surely today was one of them.
After what may have been the best night’s sleep that I have had in two or three months, I woke up with a cool breeze above my pillow and came downstairs to discover a nutritious breakfast smoothie and a pot of hot coffee to go with it. Thank you, Dana, for getting my day off to such a positive start. TSLA, YHOO, TJX, and FEYE took over from there, when the market opened, and I spent a productive morning managing my active trades for four separate accounts, including the Trust investment. I may have gotten a suitable entry price for a long position in VMW, but only time will tell with that. When the office intercom beeped, I was the beneficiary of a delicious roast turkey sandwich with a bowl of fresh gazpacho. It has been a fine season for tomatoes, and I am still working on getting my fill. Dana said that aging Walie was having one of her most lively days in a long time. After lunch, I noticed a new Ommatidia story by Brendan (which always makes my day), checked email, and worked a bit on my Spotify playlists, now that Marty has me successfully making the transition from Pandora. Some time ago I figured that eventually one would be able to watch any movie or TV show on demand, but I had not expected so soon to see the same be true of music. Yes, I have to listen to commercials now and then, but they are not as obnoxious as those on the Pandora site, since most of the Spotify ads are about the musical offerings themselves. Then it was into the painting studio for another session on the GAB portrait (with a few Danny Darst tunes for good company). I can say that I finally overcame the wall of fear (compliments of an old pal named perfectionism) that became attached to this commission, but now the pressing need is to find a route to the summit by the end of the month. I have pledged to myself to complete the artwork for Greg’s and Lynne’s return from their trip to France. At 4 o’clock, I crossed the street to play chess with the library group: one win, one loss (strangely enough, it usually works out that I beat the people I am capable of defeating and lose to those I am not capable of defeating). Although I rediscovered chess through vision therapy a while back, I am getting more serious about it this year, now that I can regularly match wits with local players right next door. Before I left, I checked out Is He Dead? (I admit that I wanted the Mark Twain comedy primarily to study the engravings by Barry Moser). When I got home I crossed paths with Dana, leaving to meet her spiritual group at the library, and then I jumped back into my yew-trimming topiary project in the front yard. With each passing growing season, it is easier and faster for me to keep them in shape, but more difficult to make significant changes or refinements. Nature will provide an occasional opportunity for a new direction or interesting detour, but it is mostly about keeping the whole effect under control. When the “skeeters” decided it was time to bite my ankles, it was off to Centre for some weight lifting before dinner. Being settled into the gym groove has always been a confidence-booster for me, and that goes back nearly 45 years. Peter Lupus emphasized that 100 twists a day kept his waistline small, although I have not been able to achieve the daily habit yet. In the workout room, I combine strenuous twists with the “ab chair” to manage my own belly, plus a circuit of machines and dumbbell exercises, in addition to the trusty bench press (where is that best buddy to spot me?). As I entered our back door after a brisk walk home, a blend of magnificent odors told me that Dana had been baking up a storm — sourdough bread, chocolate cake, and apple pie! We are preparing to celebrate Marty’s promotion to full-time employment at Hitachi in Harrodsburg. I am not the only member of the household on a roll. Well done, Grandson (and he got an A in his first course at the Technical College). Marty happened to be catching up on sleep (I cannot imagine handling a night-shift + school schedule the way he does), so Dana and I split a Red Hook and enjoyed a bowl of Swiss-chard-lentil soup with raw-tomato-basil-cheese salad. All that was left for me to do was to record my ideal day at this blogsite, and now I am ready to hit the sack. Tomorrow we shall begin again!
Please, Mr. White . . .
Sunday, May 11th, 2014Breaking Bad is, without a doubt, one of the great creative achievements in the history of television, but, for us, there came a point when we had to put ourselves out of our sweet misery and just get it over with.
March Exercise IX ~ day two
Sunday, March 2nd, 2014Before settling in with Dana for yet another disappointing Oscars telecast, I finished my first concepts for the Ian/Robin duogram and sent it off by email. A severe winter storm is on the way, but I cannot help but think that it may be over-hyped for our area. Nevertheless, somebody out there is going to get smacked upside the head. My daily posting of collage is under way, but I still have not given enough attention to the overall checklist. Must not think, being this accustomed to the March ritual, that I can just “wing it.”
Two More Lost from Cast of OHIOANS . . .
Tuesday, September 25th, 2012It was 31 years ago that I finished the OHIOANS painting that would become a poster for Wright State University and a milestone artwork for me. David R sent me an image of the wall in his new office/showroom, and it’s flattering to see how he configured the wall display. Hard to believe that OHIOANS has been around for this long. We still have the original painting hanging in our Danville studio. I thought about the artwork when Neil Armstrong died. Quite a few of those depicted were living when I created the original, and I can’t help but experience a certain sadness each time one is lost (Owens right after completion, and then, over the years: Hope, Lynde, Rogers, Bombeck, Newman, and just recently, Diller, as well as Armstrong). At the beginning, I had the wild idea of trying to circulate a poster through celebrity representatives and build a master copy with multiple signatures, but never followed through. Then I thought of just getting a poster into the hands of each one alive, but I didn’t have enough to spare. I think the University did present some to a few, such as Erma Bombeck, who made some witty remark about her beehive hair-do.
There is a space above Grant’s head that I’ve used to draw an additional portrait once or twice. The one I remember most was Daytonian Allan W. Eckert. I gave it to him the first time we met during a book signing in Ohio. Years later I talked to him in Kentucky and he told me that he had included the poster with his manuscripts and “papers” that would be turned over to an institution after his demise. That was the last time I saw him. The most memorable encounter with respect to the poster was the time Jamie Farr performed in Kentucky (he played George Burns in a one-man show), and we had the good fortune to greet him backstage afterward to personally present a poster. After a demanding stage performance that must have been totally exhausting, he couldn’t have been nicer to us and joked about Corporal Klinger and his tiara.
I realize now that I was young when I pulled this off. I felt mature at the time, having just created the most challenging piece of my early career. I was 29 years old, engaged to be married, and fully ensconced in my own independent studio. In many ways, I had already achieved nearly all the goals I had set in my youth.
OHIOANS hangs in David’s new office and showroom
(Click to view a larger image.)
Parallel worlds
Tuesday, June 19th, 2012“One man live. Another man die. One woman laugh and the other one cry.”
—Danny Darst, Lady Luck
Back in the depths of our winter mourning, when I would see people talking and laughing with delight, it seemed out of character with the tone of existence, even though I knew at the same time that it was only natural for every imaginable emotion to be continuously bubbling through the current of humanity. But didn’t I live next to a funeral home? Didn’t I know that death was a constant—running abreast of every joy I experienced on any given day?
That same contrast of feeling is with me again, to some extent, because my best buddy’s sister was in a terrible car wreck. As I write this, she holds on to life despite massive brain trauma… and this is a family that lost their patriarch only eight months ago. I know what it’s like to be plunged into the icy waters of such a vigil, and yet here I am enjoying the heck out myself this summer, basking in the glow of the marvelous Johnson wedding and the best of the Great American Brass Band Festivals to date. Mombo is doing better than anyone could have expected a few short months ago, working her way toward a full mile on the treadmill, in the face of a prognosis what would have broken the spirit of many, and yet my Clan has come together to forge an even stronger bond, proving to me once again that the unfailing light of family love is the most powerful force I have yet to encounter in this life of 60 years. Here I am, enjoying the simple pleasures of each unfolding day. I make art, watch silly TV shows, play with my pup, trade stocks, grow tomatoes, read books, and ride my bicycle like I’m still a kid… and there he is, my soul mate since 1970, wounded to the core and wondering what God holds in store for the next hour, day, week… wondering how he will be forever shaped in some as yet undiscovered way. Two connected but parallel worlds.
As I heard Dana say to another recently, “There is something sad going on in every family.” The inverse must be true as well. I remember realizing that there must be happy things occurring in my family at the same time I was selecting my son’s gravesite, but one hesitates to share such things with relatives in the grip of anguish. In this age of social networks, I’m always struck by the odd juxtapositions of delight and grief, but, of course, life has never been otherwise. However, with age, it’s just a bit more difficult to mentally insulate one’s personal world, in contrast to the manner of my youth. And so I try to let my periodic melancholy be informed by the presence of exuberance, and to allow my occasional bliss to be peppered by the knowledge of sorrow.
It seems to me that all the emotions of life are fully present in our extended circle of experience, but are fleeting, elusive stuff at the private, individual level. I wonder if the impermanence of happiness is at the root of most addictions, many of which go beyond the typical vices and substances—patterns such as gossip, broadcast news watching, pack-ratting, procrastination, argumentation, anger, and all manner of risky and abusive behaviors (yes, that includes extreme exercise, too). In place of natural serenity, we get hooked on habit-triggered adrenaline and brain chemicals that have little to do with what we should know provides the only enduring satisfaction—service to life and oneness with creation. Sensual pleasure and physical comfort have their proper place, but as a focus of life soon become an empty shell or bottomless well.
It is said that change is the only permanent state. Perhaps, but where does change originate? My only answer is: The One Creative Source—the only truly permanent thing. As we come to accept the inevitable—that life in this dimension is characterized most of all by impermanence—then we eventually learn to understand the flow of suffering and sweetness, to look for meaning in the essentials, to appreciate real friends, to value the unity of family, and to age with dignity.
March-Ex VI: fell short on day twelve
Monday, March 12th, 2012“If I believe I cannot do something, it makes me incapable of doing it. When I believe I can, then I acquire the ability to do it, even if I did not have the ability in the beginning.”
— Mahatma Gandhi
Spent much of the day on self-promotion and never quite managed to get the grand exercise in gear. Glen Bishop replied, “I wish you wouldn’t have said that.”
Mere Habitation
March-Ex VI: sought art on day eleven
Sunday, March 11th, 2012“I could see no reason why used tram tickets, bits of driftwood, buttons, and old junk from attics and rubbish heaps should not serve well as materials for paintings; they suited the purpose just as well as factory-made paints.”
—Kurt Schwitters
The matrix is abandoned. Is it March or not? Dana and I traveled to Louisville to see a group collage exhibition at Hard Scuffle Gallery. One of the most satisfying opening receptions I have ever attended. Caitlan and Kyle walked over to join us, and we presented our congratulations gift to him—the unusual ceramic cast by Igor. Bob and Meg attended and wanted to have dinner with us. My intention was to make it back to the farm for Mission: Madness, but the schedule went to pieces. I really hated to stand up my Pal-zee. It was a joy to re-connect with these friends. We are all at the age when it becomes a challenge to maintain the continuity of our self-employment and stability, but each of us does our part to navigate the waters with purpose and a semblance of dignity. Schwitters was the great example of always moving on to the next thing in the face of adversity, yet preserving a dedication to his unifying artistic vision. Would he disdain my current fixation on his “style?” Most likely. But an artist must absorb all one can from influences, modify one’s own creative code in the process, and venture on toward greater individuality. Bert Cooper said, “Get on with it!”
To Pay Paul
March-Ex VI: breathed bicycles on day eight
Thursday, March 8th, 2012• Walking and bicycling gradually build strength and muscle tone with little risk of over-exercise or strain. An average bicyclist burns about 300 calories during a 20-minute ride, while improving coordination and reducing stress.
• Non-motorized travel or commuting can easily provide enough exercise to meet the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention’s recommendation that adults engage in moderate-intensity physical activities for 30 minutes or more at least five days a week.
• As an effective type of aerobic exercise, bicycling can result in noticeably improved health, lowering risk factors for many medical conditions, including cardio-vascular disease, obesity, type II diabetes, depression, and memory loss.
• A major study of 10,000 British civil servants suggested that those who bicycled 20 miles a week were half as likely to suffer heart disease as their non-cycling colleagues.
Totally devoted to preparing remarks and visuals for a presentation to the Rotary Club tomorrow. The benefits of non-motorized travel and recreation is something I’ve thought about intensively for at least five years now. Beyond advocacy, my concepts are turning toward the dynamics of a more “livable” community. Not that the greater accommodation of walkers and bicyclists is some sort of panacea, but when you line up all the benefits — Economic Development, Neighborhood Preservation , Tourism Promotion, Environmental Stewardship , Health and Well-being, and Overall Quality of Life — it sure does look like a hell of a solution to a lot of perplexing issues. Donald Draper said, “Make it simple, but significant.”
Desirable Habitats
March-Ex VI: hacked through on day seven
Wednesday, March 7th, 2012If the front side of the coin of success is the ability to set clear goals for yourself, then the flip side of the same coin is the ability to get yourself organized and work on your most valuable tasks, every minute of every day. Your choices and decisions have combined to create your entire life to this moment. To change or improve your life in any way, you have to make new choices and new decisions that are more in alignment with who you really are and what you really want.
—from Goals! by Brian Tracy
Struggled through the old quicksand of dragging a project up to its production deadline, while discovering more and more unsolved problems. But, as usual, with two minds brought to bear, everything was resolved in the end. Then I hurried over to the bank to test the digital projector made available to me for Friday’s presentation. Just giving the guys a quick preview of my talk made me realize I know my subject thoroughly. The topic is not the issue; it’s all about the delivery. Linda’s workshop was an unexpected clinic on public presentation. With that in mind, I have plenty of time tomorrow to prepare. Bert Cooper exclaimed, “Turning creative success into business is your work, and you have failed!”
Grounds for Confusion
March-Ex VI: studied probabilities on day six
Tuesday, March 6th, 2012“Success is the sum of small efforts,
repeated day in and day out.”
—Robert Collier
Dana and I completed our second day of training in the routine techniques of high-probability trade design and management. The more I learn, the greater my burning desire to do this every day. Our instructor was a bit on the shrill side, but her command of the subject was astonishing. I’ve been in the presence of very few people who could match her intensity, sincerity, and focused energy. The Investools/AMTD/ThinkOrSwim configuration is a powerful platform for gaining knowledge and deploying skill. It has my full confidence. Donald Draper yelled, “I want to build something of my own! How do you not understand that?”
Liberation Day
March-Ex VI: thought about the future on day five
Monday, March 5th, 2012Life is no straight and easy corridor along which we travel free and unhampered, but a maze of passages, through which we must seek our way, lost and confused, now and again checked in a blind alley. But always, if we have faith, a door will open for us, not perhaps one that we ourselves would ever have thought of, but one that will ultimately prove good for us.
—A.J. Cronin
It was a shock to confirm that March had indeed come in like a Lion, with Lexington getting even more snow than Danville. Crossing the Kentucky River on the Bluegrass Parkway offered a striking scene in the early morning light. Dana and I spent our day in the city, learning new skills in preparation for long life. When somebody moves our “cheese,” we have to shift outside the zone of comfort and make choices about what to change. Donald Draper asked, “Where do you want me to start?”
Agenda Items
March-Ex VI: fretted about deadlines on day four
Sunday, March 4th, 2012We must work and affirm, but we have no
guess of the value of what we say or do.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
I keep catching myself giving more awareness to the overall work load and target dates than the most important thing—that which is in front of me at a particular moment. With a two-day workshop in Lexington beginning tomorrow, I worry about what is due on Wednesday and Friday instead of attending to the present. Time to walk away for a spell, and, in the late afternoon sun, dig and build a new pit for making tomato-patch compost. Nothing like a tree-top cardinal proclaiming his purpose to put things into perspective. Roger Sterling shouted, “I’m going to put you on notice. You’re in over your head.”
Blog Jam
March-Ex VI: mulled over my fortune on day three
Saturday, March 3rd, 2012The cornucopia was a symbol of her power to bestow favors, the rudder a symbol of her more sinister power to change destinies. She could scatter gifts, then with terrifying speed shift the rudder’s course, as she watched us choke to death on a fish bone or disappear in a landslide.
—from The Consolations of Philosophy by Alain de Botton
When a client offers deep thanks and writes, “It’s all so professional and mood-appropriate that I’m just in awe,” it’s time to pause and be grateful for my blessings. Broke out the mountain bike, fed the knobby tires some air, and took my first bicycle ride of the season. I saw a barn on Gentry Lane with only half a roof and wondered if that happened yesterday. All the news coming in about the human toll and devastation has me contemplating that thin edge between ruin and relief. Connie Hilton said, “By golly, you are an indecently lucky man.”
Morning After
March-Ex VI: pondered ruin on day two
Friday, March 2nd, 2012“Then the gates of hell opened up.”
—an unidentified Indiana dispatcher“It was beautiful. And now it’s just gone. I mean, gone.”
—Andy Bell, Henryville
A huge battery of storm cells on a forced march across the Midwest left decimation and loss of life behind it in Kentucky. I felt uneasy leaving home to play cards with friends, especially after an exhausting push to complete another presentation for the music CD graphics. Archibald Whitman scoffed, “Look at your hands.”
Maelstrom
March-Ex VI: thought about death on day one
Thursday, March 1st, 2012But whether you liked it or not, Death was something you had to go through life with. Plenty times you would meet up with it if you lived long enough, and you might as well get used to it as you could.
—from The Trees by Conrad Richter
Saw the curled-up squirrel on the sidewalk, lifeless as a piece of fast-food litter. New structure for the regimen proved to be a reasonably good framework. Pushed ahead toward the album cover deadline. James stopped by to discuss trust matters. Bert Cooper urged, “Reconcile!”
Incidentals