I went to the basement to empty the dehumidifier and saw my recently reassembled stereo system there. I pulled a record off the shelf, set it on the turntable, and played Judy Collins’ classic recording of “Both Sides Now” while I did my little chore.
The Smart TV sat quietly on the other side of the room.
Three hours later, I picked up my smart phone and turned to Google to look something up. Under the search bar was a link:
“Watch the Tallest Man on Earth Cover Joni Mitchell’s ‘Both Sides, Now”
Coincidence? I think not. Somehow the device knew that particular song was on my mind.
Our electronic toys see us when we’re sleeping, and they know when we’re awake. I’m pretty sure they know when we’ve been bad or good, so …
My two favorite movies (It’s A Wonderful Life and The Wizard of Oz) have a theme in common. George Bailey and Dorothy Gale both want to go out in the world and find great adventures over the rainbow somewhere.
In the end, though, they discover that what they needed and wanted was right in front of their eyes all along: Bedford Falls. Home.
Now: You want to go somewhere. You want something to be done. You see a better world out there waiting to be found or made. You’re frustrated – why is it so hard to get there? Why is this better world not happening?
Step back and take another look. Maybe you already have the brains, the heart, and the courage you need.
Maybe what you want is right here, right now, right in front of you, looking you in the eyes in the mirror.
I have always been intermittent about feeding the blog, writing the Great American Novel, sorting my various surplus for eBay/rummage, and otherwise doing things that will not bear fruit or audience in the relative near future. Write a piece for tomorrow’s paper or a news story for an hour from now? Piece of cake. Edit an entire collection of stuff so it gets to the page designers and eventually the press by Time X? Sure, no prob.
But the longer-term deadline of a novel or the self-imposed deadline of a blog with a relative handful of readers that will only grow an audience with regular delivery over an undetermined amount of time? That is a challenge, as anyone who has attempted either task will know. There are millions more abadoned blogs and unfinished novels than thriving ones. We need more immediate gratification, and toiling away in the dark takes a certain discipline.
As attention spans get shorter and shorter, we may find people neglecting projects that will not bear fruit or audience in the next hour or two, or the next few minutes.
Hmmm … somewhere out there among those neglected and abandoned blogs there likely are remarkable bits of writing waiting to be mined, collected and placed in a spotlight. That might be a fun project for someone someday …
1. That was one wild ride.
2. Eight episodes is better than 13. Everyone got significant time and good moments even with five fewer hours to cover the ground.
3. Stay through the closing credits for a trailer. Hey, it’s Marvel, even on the small screen.
4. Yeah, after six series of Marvel TV universe, I still like Jessica Jones best. Her show, the character, I’m eager for more.
5. One thing: Comic book villains always, always talk too much so the good guys can come to the rescue just in time. But if we were in it for realism, we wouldn’t be watching stories about bulletproof, impossibly strong people, would we?
The other man stopped short and whipped around.
The first speaker swallowed and considered whether to repeat himself. Continue reading Two friends diverged in the woods
I looked at the logo on the coffee cup I use a couple of times every week and started thinking about how some brands and people take me back to being a kid every time.
That elongated S for Studebaker transports me to the days I always rode in the back seat with my two brothers. Dad bought a succession of Studebakers through the 1950s and mid-60s, sold on the company and the trusted Werner dealership he favored. I remember how foreign the back seat of that 1965 Ford Galaxie felt.
There are few brands that feel so linked to my childhood – but there are a few. Continue reading Brands of my kid-dom
(scene 1, part 1) (scene 1, part 2) (scene 2)(scene 3)(scene 4)(scene 5)(scene 6)(scene 7)(scene 8)(scene 9)
I got up and started pacing around the room, looking for a way to escape the sudden breakout of a UFO hunters’ convention.
“Give me one freaking break,” I said, trying not to shout or descend into hysterical hysteria. “Please don’t tell me this is all about Roswell and big government cover-ups.”
“No,” Stella said. “It’s not about Roswell. Well, only to the extent that Roswell is part of the cover-up.”
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” Continue reading scene 10