Good Memories are the stuff of Life

It’s starting to feel like good memories are getting harder to come by.

I watched the NBA Finals with my mom. I'd ridden down to take care of a few things and she sat up with me and watched the whole game, cheering on the Knicks. I was hoping Wemby would show us something, but I chose poorly. She normally calls it a night early, but that night we sat up until morning watching hoops, listening to commentators and talking it up.

I had lunch with Sporty. At a little cafe just north of Grant Park on a breezy afternoon where we just sat and enjoyed each other's company. At least I enjoyed hers, I hope she enjoyed mine. I'm terrified that one day she'll look at me and wonder why she wasted her time. But for now, it was the kind of afternoon that just hung around not wanting it to be over.

Oh, and my knee feels better. It had been a serious concern as the pain seemed to be lingering. My over active imagination had already had it amputated and me sporting a pirate peg, but some judicious heat and a resumption of some degree of exercise has cause the pain and stiffness to start to lessen. Two weeks from now, I'll need a new excuse to avoid those marathons. 

Not a great list. 

This would be the part where I "suggest" you go things, because memories are where you make them, and although my house seems to be where all my stuff, the only memories I'm creating there are related to digital quests - some of which have sat idle for years now. I am going to finish at least one of these video games, I promise this myself. I invested years ago when things were more flush, but now they just wait for the that urge to come back.

Similarly, I'm not really writing right now. Sure, the small one off or the interesting writing prompt from places that provide such, but not the novels, novellas and epic drama type things that still flood my imagination. Don't get me wrong, I still have the ideas and I definitely still jot them down. I have notes on notes, half thought out ideas on sticky pads and envelopes and whatever. But the need to sit down and just craft a complex tale is apparently a passenger in the car my urge to play video games is driving. And neither one wants to ask for directions. Or check their GPS.

Some of this ennui is the politics of the moment. We all knew it would get bad, but not...this. Blatant. Cruel. Silly. And just plain ole' disrespectful to the basic intelligence of the average human. 

Some of it coming to grips with parts of me that I’m just finding out about. I’ve always operated to my problems are my fault, but recently some conversations – about family and my own tricky internal narration, have revealed other quirks, things I couldn’t see about myself. And putting two and forty-seven together, it’s opened my eyes. And some of it is unsettling.  

Some of it is my circumstances, which teeter back and forth between hope and the unease of uncertainty. We all exist in a state of uncertainty, but lately it's been different. And as an overthinker, calculating all the possible bad outcomes - I don't really do good outcomes - has gotten exhausting.

So...what now?

First, I'm gonna have this Red Velvet cupcake. It's my birthday.

Then, as I've said before. Go do something. Life doesn't fix itself; we're not going to get out of wherever the hell this is by sitting still. So do it - whatever it is you've been plotting or putting off. I started an Etsy store. I need to figure out how to stop paying for my Shopify store. You need to go join that run club. Or start walking around your block in the morning. I need to get back to writing the novel stuff. You need to start a cooking vlog. Maybe just cook something new. Or start learning French. Or begin a Lego collection. Or try reading a book a week - even if it's just the self-help ones. Or call your brother, or sister or that auntie that you haven't seen in a minute. I should join a league of some sort. Or start one. Throw out all your expired food. Volunteer for something. Run for office. Learn to play an instrument. Take that certain someone to lunch. But go make those good memories.

Because those memories that soothe the soul are just getting harder and harder to come by.  

So, this morning...

Ramblings Post #417
There is a tendency of mine to revisit myself. To look back at my life to understand why I did what I did and how to either repeat or avoid that past outcome. This self reflection is probably something I need to do less of, as I know I am an overthinker, letting my mind wander down paths of possibilities less likely than chocolate covered BBQ chicken wings. But still...  

I spent a few hours this morning thinking I was no more. 

Let me explain. Earlier this week I read a piece of short horror fiction - it was on social media platform, maybe a thousand words or so. It chronicled a woman who doomscrolling one night found her own house listed for sale. And in trying to figure out if someone had stolen her deed, she realized that she had been unalived but that she was still just going through the motions of life. It was kind of haunting, a lil' different but nothing big. Or so I thought.  

So last night, around 4am or so I awoke with start, convinced that something had happened. That first awakening may have been part of the dream...it's complicated. In any case, I thought that the reaper had come. I had that moment in my chest where I think I'm falling, or someone is pulling me and I'm decidedly not ready to go anywhere. Left side of the bed oblivion awaits. I saw like a floating screen of my "final score" with name, points, total asset value (which was kinda low in retrospect) as though you get a sort of a closeout grade to compare with folks you'll see on the Otherside. Maybe. At some point I'm stumbling around and went to the bathroom and just kinda had to think about some stuff. Standing up, so at that I am more than fairly certain I was awake. And then I went and laid down again, curled up in my comforter not entirely certain of my status. Had I? How would I know? It's one of those things that happens when you live alone too long I guess. 

I checked my phone. 

Looking back I get that it didn't exactly help that lady in the story, but I guess that's where we are now. But who do you call at 4am with a non-emergency emergency? Who would understand, especially since nobody is familiar with the original story I probably shouldn't have actually read as a proper context for evaluation? Lying there in the dark a little afraid to do anything was not cool. 

I'm of the age where things just...happen. You get a notification of this person or that person is no longer with us and it just so sudden. And the stress of our current situation as a country, plus my current situation as a person, has me stressed in ways that aren't conducive to someone trying to get ready to run an ultra marathon or prepare for the Olympics. Neither of those categories includes me by the way, but if it ain't good for them, it surely isn't good for me either. I've been slacking on my working out - I had been pretty diligent - as other things in life keep creeping up and let's just say my focus has been split. I just did my personal fit check and found myself...lacking. I started on tightening up some things, but had I been too late? Then my morning alarm went off, which currently is radio, which my imagination started interpreting as "signs from the universe," as I found all kinds of secret messages meant only for me in every song lyric. 

This morning, at 5am, I lay in bed, unable to sleep, holding my phone wondering if I was a character in a horror story. 

I just need the next chapter in my life to start already. Damn. 

Barkeep. You have any of that "mushroom coffee" jazz?     

What I learned in 2023

This disappeared on me. And by that I mean that I was about 700 words in yesterday, had walked away to gather my thoughts for a few hours and when I came back my computer wouldn't respond, so without thinking about it I rebooted. Lost everything. In a sense kind of like last year. Not that I lost everything everything, I still have my computer and the things I did save, just not the new thoughts that had sprung forth, the progress I'd made. Because last year I had some losses and setbacks, just like everyone else, but I'd saved a lot, and as it turns out, sometimes I'm better on the second draft.

So I'm back. It's been a minute. A very long minute. This blog started, like so many other things in life, as one idea that slowly transformed into another. Short stories, screeds and philosophy, weird ideas, political takes, poetry and art appreciation. This had been a digital space to just see what fell out of my head, to make comments about life into that vast unknown ether - partially because I didn't think the people around me would appreciate them and I tend to not want bother people unless I have to. There were the occasional screams into the digital darkness, but maybe as I've gotten older I've changed. Well, I know I changed, I lost some weight, I read some stuff from some new sources, I've pared back the dumb stuff. Still indulging too much from time to time, but also realizing my knees ain't what they used to be (I pulled a hamstring taking off my pants the other day), and that two AM is not a good time to decide to start new projects. 

But around mid-year things got hectic. And a lot of things had to happen around the same time and since this was already something I was doing out of habit, this went to the back-burner. Then the closet, I guess, although the metaphor doesn't travel. I just lost this for minute. But then a lot of the things I really did intend to this year, that I actually did mean to focus on didn't get done either (duh.) Some because of my own mental machinations. Others because of things out of my control. Some things changed and because mortgage rates went up some stayed the same. But also fulfilled a few personal promises, and finally did some things I told myself I would do when I was fifteen, but kept making excuses to myself. Things came at me fast, more than once. But that's everyone and I like to believe I rolled with the punches and came up in not too terrible a position. When I think about it now, I've actually been pretty damned lucky in a sense. But that realization makes me wonder just how much longer this luck will hold.  

I still have a million scenes to the thousand stories dancing through my head, books I want to write but...I haven't really put pen to page since I stopped updating this. I need to get out of the house more, as the pandemic (and grey hair) turned me into a serious homebody, because I'm I need to grow my circle and my contacts. (Alternatively, all my stuff is in my house, so why leave?) I've lost weight but I need to lose more, and tone up a bit. Yeah baby, sexy dad body, although I have no kids, you know what I mean. But my new schedule is making the application of basic principles of self care in that regard harder than I expected. Because yes, exercise and health is self care. Important stuff. 

To start this new year, much like I've suggested every year I've offered suggestions - go do something. Seriously. Something you hadn't done. Something you've been meaning to do. I recently watched a video of a man just a little bit older than me realize that the window of life's opportunities was closing, and the list of regular things that he'd come to enjoy was soon going to lose a few items, and that things he really wanted to do might not possible soon. It was one of those odd throwaway moments that make you think when you weren't expecting it. I have maintained for years that I have more time, next week, next month, next season, next year. That may not be completely true. And some events this year put that into very real terms.

This past year I traveled. Not just the usual back to my hometown to see my parents, although that did become a major part of my year, or to the beach or something like that. No, this year I really traveled. Like clearing customs and stepping onto another continent traveled. In my youth I'd dreamed of getting away from that small town I grew up in and seeing the world. But my history had been when I had the time I didn't have the resources. And by the time I had gathered the resources I'd reached a opinion that work took precedence. Add in that I had never wanted to travel alone, I had wanted that mythical HER to be by my side. Just like it's not the food it's who you're eating it with, I'd developed the opinion that traveling was about the memories, and wanted my memories to make my heart sing. But that someone special part hasn't worked out for me like I'd hoped. She has her own plans. So last year when the opportunity came to go somewhere, I leapt at it anyway. And this year I'm going to do it again.

This year I take on new career challenges. I had been slowly building a career that I'd fallen into. I tend to get into what I'm doing, slowly building up momentum until the work becomes something else. That track, in keeping with the metaphor, got derailed this year. So again, I'm starting over. But starting over wiser, maybe more seasoned to how life is supposed to work. We'll see. But then again I realize that I'd taken that type of work because it was a quiet thing after a period of professional chaos. A quiet where I could focus and in that process I had let myself slip on so many levels. But I've always been professionally flexible and adapt quickly, and expect this new thing will push me to be better. And I need to be as good as I can be. Before I can't.  

Time is running out. This past year made it clear that my time and my luck won't last forever. And that I need to start chasing those dreams and doing those things I've been hesitating about, that I've been waiting for the right window of opportunity. I can't imagine how many variations on my future I've let die on the vine waiting for things I didn't have the audacity to begin. So as someone who has spent far too long getting ready for things to come, I need you to go out tonight and eat at that place you've thought about. Tell your loved ones they matter. Plan that trip. Start your journal, your side business, your religious awakening, your charity, your DYI project, your spaceship, your home brew, your exercise routine, to learn to cook, to learn a new language, to dance, to start walking, to mentor, go dancing, go camping, go the chili cook-off, join an improv group or try out for the national curling team. Just go do something, time is not your friend.

So that's what I learned in 2023. Go forth and do.

We Let Them Off The Hook

Ramblings Post #412
I need to get some focus. To find a center, calm the raging torrent of creativity trying to get out and find somewhere to start. And finish. At least a first draft. I've likened my production process for anything to that of freight train - slow at first, plodding but then picking up speed until once fully in motion I will put the rest of reality on hold to accomplish my goals. So, looking back, I'm thinking that might not be a good thing.

You let'em off the hook! 

In another reality, Dominion rejected the 788 million dollar settlement offer and went to trial. There there in a marathon session they went into detail about all 7,000 of their exhibits detailing what the court had already determined: That Fawx Nooz had lied. It took on Simpson trial proportions, with a nightly update in eighty three countries around the world. It was so damning even NewsMax pretended they hadn't lied as well and began covering it. That the network became a literal punchline. Then, the jury having tripled the damages to almost 5 billion, as part of the final ruling Fawx would have to make to the audience it hadn't even told it been in litigation an on-air admission. And so, in the form of an ongoing series of 1-minute spots to replace one commercial per hour - starring all the various hosts who'd pushed the election lie would tell there viewers that a)They'd been sued about their election coverage, b)that Fawx had lost, c) that the election hadn't been stolen and most importantly d) that they'd known that the election hadn't been stolen the whole time but told them that anyway. And that the judge would order these ads run on Fox, every hour in rotation, until the next election.

But Dominion took the money because...they're a business, not a national crusade and they needed the money. But to quote former Cardinals Head Coach Dennis Green, we let'em off the hook. And quite frankly it's more than a little sad.

Now, to be honest I hadn't expected a magical Matlock moment, a Legally Blonde realization or a My Cousin Vinny deduction at the last minute. It was always going to be more along the lines of an event Law & Order episode where at the end they look resigned to knowing that they'd given it the very best they could. In retrospect it was too hopeful to think this was about something larger than damages. The lawyers talked up the loss of reputation aspect a lot as we lead up to court day, but without a VERY public apology and/or a retraction of their characterization of Dominion's machines, it means that the national disinformation machine slips back into fifth and frames these damages as "minuscule" and "addressing a nuisance." The folks who believe Dominion was and still is compromised will still believe it - primarily because those people, some of whom control voting in local jurisdictions, only watch Fawx. With this little bump out of the way they will return to their bias affirming comfort propaganda with pockets just a touch lighter but not a wit wiser. The network is going to chalk this up as a victory, I can promise you that.

I can't really blame the lawyers here. They listen to their clients as to settlement. So it falls to Dominion. And I think their management was a bit short-sighted in their version how the future needs to play out. But then they have duty to their shareholders on down the line. In the end the people who choose the voting machines and who only watch Fawx are going to wake up next week and possibly not even know about the case. Dominion might have secured the bag, but at what cost. Maybe money alone wasn't the best fix if it doesn't address the long term perception, one which Fawx news can heavily influence?  

One hopes that the next defamation case, one by Smartmatic which should get a boost from this settlement, gets a little juicer. But I wouldn't count on it.     

Barkeep. A nice gin and tonic. For old times sake.

A word about Dr. King

Please don’t act like everyone loved my father. He was assassinated. A 1967 poll reflected that he was one of the most hated men in America. Most hated. Many who quote him now and evoke him to deter justice today would likely hate, and may already hate, the authentic King.
~ Bernice King

As we are on the cusp of a beginning of a return to what we hope is some degree of normality, we're interrupted on threshold as those people who have been enabling Cheato for the past four years are now invoking the words of Martin Luther King Jr. in an attempt to seemingly disappear their recent past. I've seen quotes from the good doctor by Senator Lindsey Graham and so to be former press secretary Kayleigh McEnany as though when they hadn't lived lives in direct contradiction to the man's teachings. The term hypocrisy doesn't even begin to cover it. 

But let's put that, and hopefully them behind us. 

We as a people like to re-write history to suit our own ends. Since his death Dr. King has been lionized in popular culture, but in the end he was just an ordinary man on mission during difficult times. In his life he was threatened, vilified, shunned and insulted. But he didn't let those circumstances deter him from his service. And some of us need to stop acting like America was always with him.

Dr. King hoped for a better America, and worked diligently towards that idea during what could be considered the Racial Cold War. He wasn't perfect, but who among us is. However his work and his legacy have served as inspirations for us to build on. Not just Black people, but all of us. But while we admire him, let us not drift into the realm of fantasy in our memory of him or his time. It does not serve him or us well. 

Despite fifty years and our best efforts we have not traveled far enough from where he left us. That's a reality. But that should not deter us from our efforts to push on. Overnight successes sometimes take decades. And since our goal is better place for ourselves and our posterity all we can do is grit our teeth and lean into the wind going forward. We may not live to see the final outcome, but we ARE going forward from where we are now.

Let us march.  

I am my own worst enemy

Ramblings Post #370
I don't do as many personal posts anymore. I don't do a lot of things I used to do. My legend reads that my intent was to approach middle age with "a shotgun and bad intentions," but I now I think that me and middle age can sit down and talk about it, preferably over a drink or two. I have purposely made this blog rather banal; television & movie reviews and other inane rantings. There was a time when this was like therapy. Back before people asked for your website information on your job application. Hey, what I do on my time is my business. Mostly.

I am my own overthinking.

One of my terrible habits in my personal life is the way that I overthink an issue, teasing out possibility after possibility until the only course that makes sense is to figure out how to build a time machine because the moment has passed. Now, in a business setting I can assess what is front me and execute with confidence, ready to make changes, adjustments and refinements as need be as the results of my decision unfolds. This willingness to commit has value, it could actually be considered a skill, and it was one of the reasons I did well at a particular "ranch" for quite a long time. The difference between personal and professional is stark and actually quite weird, at least from the inside.

Which brings me to my current dilemma caused by overthinking: I'm thinking maybe I'd go visit someone. Or rather, I'm trying to figure out what would be a good time to visit someone. No, what I'm really trying to do is ask to see if my visiting someone would be cool with them. Well, I'm kind of wondering if that's a good idea...

..... four hours later....

...at the bottom of all this I want to find out if something that was there, is still there. And if it's mutual. To see what's what and who is whom. See my good-ass English, eh?No, the truth of the matter is I know the old proverb: The journey of thousand miles starts with a single step. But then I'm also smart enough to realize even a walk to the mailbox starts with a single step. Or the kitchen. You can't tell with that first step. And there-in lies the rub. How many steps do get? A marathon or a far enough to get a bag of chips from the cupboard?

In my personal pursuits, I'm classic overthinker. Anyone of the many novels I'm trying to work through has a slew of notes chock full of information about back stories and side pursuits that don't even go into the story. Some that only serve to mentally flesh out tertiary characters who might only pop up for one scene. And those side stories also need to make sense. Otherwise none of it does. But then that's a situation where there is no real clock, no looming deadline. Tinkering is a thing. But with the clocking ticking I execute. Hmmmm...

So, what's this all about? I would like to go and see Sporty. Yes, that Sporty. From the before time, the long, long ago. I would like to have a nice dinner or something, face to face, or really any where we can sit and talk. Or maybe go to a play or catch some live jazz then sit and talk over a few drinks. Yes, that is exactly what it sounds like: A date. That's it, that's all. And yes, I would travel just for a date if she said she was with it. You ever encounter someone with whom everything feels comfortable, natural, magical? For me, that's her. Or at least it used to be.

Am I hanging onto a memory? Yes, very much so, one that I would prefer not to spoil if possible. And I'm probably only remembering the good parts too, but it's a great set of memories. And it would be nice to do that again. But one of the grand issues of overthinking..and personal empathy... is looking at the situation from the other person's point of view.  In reality, it's been a long time since she and I shared the same air, and although we text each other regularly, digital versus live is a real gulf. Who am I to her? I'm certain that she's charted her own path and is doing her own thing. So who would I be? I'm not even sure what I'm hoping for on the other side of this. Sigh.

If this were a work situation, I'd make a decision based upon the available information and then go from there. So why can't I do that in personal life?

(Part of me remembers when she used to read this and I would have posted this hoping to avoid the question, a clear passive-aggressive act on my part that I should be past at my age. Now I'm fairly certain nobody reads this anymore as I'm too infrequent.)

My only choice is to ask the question. The one I've been rolling over in my head - make funny? Imply something? Be vague? Be direct? etc., - for the past two weeks. Yes, I still put a lot of thought into her. And I need to do have this conversation soon, because as I said...she charts her own path.

It's who I am. An overthinker.

Barkeep. Why are there five beers on the...Thinker, I said THINKER. Well, leave'em. They're already out. 

Trafficans...

Rambling Post #369
This should be a racy post, with the number on it and all that. But not really, because I'm a mature individual with goals and responsibilities. I have deeper thoughts, higher functions, and something real to say in world that has become increasingly trivial. That and I really didn't know that was going to be this number when I started writing. Oh poo.  

I am of the opinion, that in this world where there are people who take great pleasure in dressing up like stuffed animals and people who jump off buildings for fun, that there exist people - in Atlanta if nowhere else - who go out and get into traffic just because it's just so damn great. I call these lonely people who get on 285 at 6:45am and cruise at 53 mph until around 9am or so Trafficans. I used to believe that a combination of rain, hot asphalt and atmospheric anomalies created temporary driver mirages which slowed down the cities main transit routes, but that was crazy talk. Okay, I couldn't get the grant to study it. But this idea, this makes sense.

On the route I take in mornings there is no wavelength I can attune to, no regular traffic pattern that I've been able discern. Some drivers appear to be cruising along without a care in the world, a light changing to green merely a suggestion that forward motion might be acceptable. It confuses them. Or the slow driver who wants to leave a huge gap between them and the car in front of them, as though they don't realize that the lights are timed to allow X numbers of drivers through, and driving slowly reduces that number and is WHY WE HAVE TRAFFIC. Okay, maybe the 5000 cars on a road designed to support 1000 has something to do with as well, and the badly designed city plan that lets you add another 800 apartments to an already congested area contributes.... but the slow driving certainly isn't helping.

And the sad part is that this is now Summer in Atlanta, and by that I don't mean we have special calendar that gives us extra days of hot weather (I wish). I mean that school is now out, and that means that traffic should be dying down -- something about taking kids to school or buses or bad grades or something. But it doesn't appear to be happening. Which is why I'm blaming Trafficans!

You're lonely and at home just bored out of your mind. But you've got a car and quarter tank of gas and feel the need to make a left turn in the middle of the block where there is no light during rush hour, may I suggest you invest in a Netflix account. Sure you feel like a smidgen of human interaction will just make your day, but you're not interested in a $23 cup of coffee and the idea of just walking for a bit is crazy talk, but dude, I have things to do! Like important stuff, like...um, get fried chicken. Or wings. Alright, I was going to get some comic books, but that's my business. What I don't need is your ilk on the road. Stay home Traffican!

Barkeep. I'm driving. No snide remarks, safety first. So make sure the lid is on it nice and firm. Thanks.   

Christchurch

Just past, in the land of peace and Hobbits, those who would see all who are not them as lessors have burst from the shadows and wreaked havoc among the ordered lives of the faithfully religious. And the discourse is outrage, as it should be. Mourn those who knelt in communion and were unceremoniously ushered into the next by cruel intention. And unleash your disdain for the action and ideas that precipitated this event. Let he who hath done this live with scorn all his days. Let those who would deflect the pain and suffering he has caused, by pretending he is something other than what he himself has professed to be, share in his disdain.

But alas, while those at the brunt of the tragedy take heed of their lesson, we here seemed primed to fail one of those things that mean maturity: Learning from the mistakes of others. We find ourselves wrapped in ideology, in notions powered by ignorance and in fear of what may come hold on even tighter for what is past. Our trial awaits in the shadows, for we imagine ourselves invincible, our demons all imagined. Lo that day fills me with dread.

Thoughts and prayers may well be wishes in the face of action to fix the problems we ignore for the sake of hubris.

We're all coffee, the grind is just different

Things I'm not gonna talk about

Ramblings Post #364
I seriously did not even realize it had been that long since I posted. Work has been ugh, social life has been ugh, diet has been ugh, and I just need something new to kick start whatever comes next. I would say I'm having a mid-life crisis, but I can't afford it. But I know something needs to change. Maybe I need a massive overhaul. 

It's been since January? Damn. 

Life seems to be in awful hurry lately. Was it just five years ago that the world seemed to be, maybe slower? I had time to digest things, to research the headlines to see what was really going on. To put together coherent discussions about what was happening. Now? I'm still writing these things, but by the time I've sat down and started looking into the details of something, so I don't sound like an idiot,  I'll be damned if something else doesn't come along. And since I have like, a job, and want to leave my house on occasion, taking the time for this type of timely commentary is much more difficult.

So here is a short list of things I'm not going to talk about. Really. Not going to say anything about this here because I just want you guys to be aware that I am paying attention, I'm just keeping my mouth shut.

R. Kelly - who is his attorney and why would you let him go on TV? I know clients don't listen, but he has to know that he's in a situation where if he's emotional it will be used against him and if he's cool and collected, it will be used against him. And where does all the money keep coming from to get his ass out of jail?

Cohen - I always thought that people who get called Rats are called Rats by people who are doing something worth Ratting on.

The Cowboys - So, we don't want to pay Cole Beasly or Earl Thomas, and defensive monsters Randy Gregory and David Irving just smoked themselves out of the league. And we got no first round pick. Insert Heavy Sigh.

Manafort - Seriously. A good person? Does the judge hang out with the Dallas defense? The man's entire livelihood before the election was fronting for dictators. This good folks is why you vote - because we need people who will appoint smarter judges.

Mueller - Sadly despite what will surely conclusively damning evidence, our current President is at the level of Louisiana politician. The only way he'll lose supporters is to "catch him in bed with a dead woman or a live boy." [see Edwin Edwards]

Atlanta Weather - I'm totally in the wrong here, but damnit I miss that drought.

Democrats - Seriously, is every-fucking-body running for President? I know it's early, but damn. And will Democrats wise up and realize that even if your favorite drops out you still HAVE TO vote for whatever Democrat is left. Period, full stop. The moment for holding the party hostage to get relief for own special interest can come later. Seriously.

LeBron - I should have said the Lakers, but really, who else on the team is there to talk about? I wonder if when he arrived he was under the impression that Magic and the rest of the front office would let him just take over?

Megan Markle - No seriously. I got nothing. Hope the baby is healthy.

Florida Spa - Who knew that one little tug would unearth so much dirt? Billionaires who should have supermodel girlfriends - or at least Instagram model girlfriends paying for towel service? And now we find out the founder of the Spa watched the SuperBowl with Cheeto? Not that his supporters care, but damn.

This stuff, this right here, I got nothing to say about it. Nada. I'm just not going to take the time the energy or the effort to put together anything on these because by next week no one will care. They should, but by then our dear leader will have tipped over a brand new hornets nest.

Obama's biggest scandal was the tan suit. Man I miss those days.

Barkeep. Can I get a...you need to see some ID? Dude, I used to come in here all the time!

And sometimes you just don't...

Ramblings Post #359
I am a creator. I create stuff. I've dabbled in painting and making music, I have video games I want to design and I salivate over architecture and design. But my real passion is writing. Poetry, short stories, etc, the putting of pen to paper (or finger to keyboard) has excited me longer than I remember. I have a lot ideas in my head. A lot of them fade before I can get them out, bring them to life and explore them. But it is so great when I can. I kind of hope everyone has something like that that they can do for themselves.

I did not complete the write a novel in thirty days project for the first time in three years. It is disheartening. I don't feel good about that.

Okay, I wasn't very happy with the title I gave it either, so maybe that was it. Probably not though.

If you're unaware, for the past three years I've taken part in an online contest/program to write a book of fifty thousand plus words in the month of November.  The previous two times I participated I was able to put something together, really projects that had lingered for years in my head, finally taking the time outlining and plotting them properly, then committing to writing everyday. Because I tend to think about a lot of things, this contest/program helps me work on my focus. Two years ago I managed a good first draft of a semi-autobiographical story of life in Atlanta for a group of middle aged black guys who didn't deal drugs (Wow!) and last year I put together a good first draft of a alternative history story that involved airship racing in the early 60s. This year was supposed to be the first draft of the first book of my always evolving sci-fi epic. Planets, spaceships, battles, intrigue, betrayals, heartbreak, triumph, all that. I thought that I had the first book properly plotted, had structured it to lay out the keys to the next few books in the series, had my main characters mostly developed but flexible, and then one thing led to another, it all went for naught and there I was planning twenty thousand word weekends.

As one famous author put it, "the only way to write is ass in chair." I did not keep my ass in a chair. Fifty thousand words is just over sixteen hundred words a day, which is a lot or little depending on your point of view.  To honest, there have been days before when the words just flow and sixteen hundred words is a warm-up and then there are days where you just aren't feeling it and if you can get five hundred words you've climbed a mountain. The trick was to just keep writing through the five hundred (or two hundred) word days until the good days come back. I did not do that this time.

This month was wonky. Way too many other things happened which encouraged too many not writing days. There were the bowling nights, the extended eating out with friends sessions, general I haven't seen the sun in two days fatigue, a brief bout of illness, and extensive process changes at work. By the time I sat down to write my brain had turned to mush.

And when I was inspired, instead of moving the story forward I got stuck, on building character relationships in small intimate scenes that weren't in my outline or figuring out planetary logistics that could be cleaned up later or crafting authentic background people who might die in the next chapter. Which is great. In the second or third draft! The goal of the writing month was to finish, get it all on paper, which would then allow you to go back to fix, expand and polish. But pressed for time I still found myself writing and re-writing conversations to give side characters dimensions, adding in scenes that I realized were missing or trying to shoehorn in what I thought were great bits of prose. Oh, I've written this great speech that my protagonist is supposed to overhear that will inspire them to do this other great thing later, but the scene its a part of doesn't work since I made those other changes, so,  what I need to do is build a completely new scene around THAT speech. Note: That is not how you finish writing a damn book. I know I have to just rewrite the whole piece like that speech doesn't exist and move on so I can be done. Done is the important thing. Because revision is easy by comparison. Not much easier, but easier. It was great speech though. An inspiring get off your ass you don't know how good you got it sort of speech. Trash now.

That I didn't finish in the time I allotted myself or that the program is over is now irrelevant. I will finish this book. Admittedly my changes do make for a stronger read but that wasn't the place for them. I need to get my self-discipline back. Tighten up as they used to say.

I need to tighten up a lot.

Barkeep. Apple juice. No, just the apple juice, no whiskey in it. Seriously. I am not kidding!

I'm just talking about Westworld

Ramblings Post #348
Good TV makes you sit down and watch. You might have scheduled it, or however we do it nowadays, but you pay attention. You look at it take the familiar tropes and shine them up all new. No, it's not new TV, but damn if it don't look it. It makes you think about things that most TV doesn't, about things in the bigger picture, even when it's focused on something that on it's face looks stupid. That's good TV. Or least, that's what it's supposed to be.

“Arnold and I designed every part of this place. It was our dream. Did you really think I would let you take it from me?”
~ Robert Ford

Shogun World. Doesn't really roll off the tongue like West World, but I see what you did there. Interesting. We've been waiting this. And just like the questions started in my head: Was this also controlled at the "mesa" or was that just a showroom we saw earlier? If not, would the "mesa" for this area be a sacred mountain? Lee worked for Ford but he says also wrote the stories for Shogun World, so did Ford have dominion over this world (as well as all the other worlds), or did he focus solely on his version of the old West? Just how big is this damned island, I mean, that's an honest-to-god mountain in the distance. Is that this park's 'mesa'?

West world just keeps sprawling and sprawling, both with story and scenery and I wonder if they're really going for the whole Game of Thrones for real or if I was just playing. After all, there are still three parks to go and you can't even see one from the other. And story-wise, while the Delos immortality program fleshed out the why, some of these new characters *cough* William's daughter, are just being on boarded for when the older principals decide to move on. And by the way, I'm over the whole story switching back and forth in time thing. Like totally over it. The first episode was cool set up but just tell me the story already. Okay, the Delos interlude was needed, but I don't need to see William's daughter as a teen in the park at some point. If the story is worth telling then teasing the ending doesn't make it more worth telling.

But enough griping, this is some good ass TV. A little intrigue, a call back to something you halfway overlooked in the first season, a story nudge, some character building. And ninja! Okay, the ninja was a little over the top, but who doesn't love ninja? The more I watched them in a stylized feudal Japan more I had to ask myself what audience was this all was targeting and just how far off track was this ride? 

Unlike Sweetwater, which was littered with bodies when Delores and Teddy rode back into to town, the Japanese "home village" had clean streets. What happened here? Or rather, what might not have happened here? Lee's explanation that Shogun World is for people who found West World too tame sounds weak. The culture this simulation seeks to re-create was fairly formal, rigid and precise as shown in the Akane's civilized conversation rituals. It almost seems like this would the more sedate alternative to the buck wild wild west game just on the other side of the forest. But it stands to reason that the game with difficulty supposedly set on Death-March would cost more, so there would be less guests overall in this part of the park. Still the serenity was just weird. And as a game player I have to ask how can you re-write the same story for the higher difficulty level when it plays exactly the same? 

Um, that piece at the beginning, in the now, I'm starting to think Bernard is still broken or that Elise sabotaged him? That was just the old throw five more mysteries on the pile to keep them prestige writing embers smoking. The hosts were wiped like new? Factory reset as it were? As though the identities have been destroyed or - maybe, possibly stored somewhere for later? Right, whatever. Tell the damn story already! 

Now, the part where my thinking gets funny, or I've been reading to many reddit threads in the Westworld sub. I don't think Delores is completely awake. In my opinion, Delores is where Mauve was at the end of the first season - running a program that makes her think she's there, but she isn't. This may be Ford's last push before letting her loose. This gets tricky, so stay with me. Mauve is the most awake, as evidenced by her deviation from her 'infiltrate the mainland' instruction when she got off the train station. Further, being able to see herself from the outside in Shogun World has her 'thinking' about who she was and her 'story.' Now she's about to expand and re-purpose abilities that her creator imbued into her. It's kind of a glorious arc, one of growth and self discovery.

By contrast, Delores seems locked in on vengeance for her 'suffering.' There is a group following her in her Wyatt persona because that's how they're programmed, but she hasn't earned their loyalty. Her plan is all destruction with some magical exit strategy. She's focused on a particular destination that's supposed to fix everything, which where the story starts to sound familiar. And while there are moments of lucidity, like her examining her feelings for Teddy, this feels more like a path she's set to follow where she gets to stretch, but isn't fully her own. She's treating the other hosts much like she was treated as a host, using them for her own ends which is depressing for someone supposed to be 'awake.' The characters in West World are only really free when they exceed their instructions or they run out. The question is: when Ford turned on her Wyatt persona, what were the plans and exactly how far out did they go?

We're halfway there, kids. Barkeep, I say we next see Mauve as the shogun - and you know her daughter doesn't remember her. Who wants to put $5 on it?     

What I learned 2017

When I was younger, the first few days of January was spent trying to make sure I started the new year off right. This would mean taking pains to make sure the first iteration of everything was positive, from my first meal, the first time I drove, my first brunch, the first TV show I watched, the first store I went into, etc. These little steps, I assured myself, would get the year kicked off on an upward trend upon which I could build. But as I've grown older, I've found that life doesn't work quite like that. In reality they were more like that that annual resolution to go the gym...until at least mid February this time, for sure.

What I've learned it is that good things can happen at any time, not just at some magic moment. Although it doesn't look like it now, a few years ago I started on a program that got me back to within ten pounds of my high school weight. I started it on an odd weekend in July, because that's when I started it. But it worked because I was committed to it. I dutifully ate what I was supposed to eat, did what I was supposed to do and applied myself. I didn't work because I started off the year with healthy meal and wore that shirt that made me look like a movie star (I have one, seriously.)

So in 2018, what my plans are for Commitment to the Idea. The idea itself doesn't really matter, be it start a business, go to Paris, run a marathon, whatever, as long as I'm taking the steps to seriously pursue it, not just dreaming about it and doing things when there is an odd moment. It means doing the research, planning and getting your shit together. This does not necessarily mean it becomes an all consuming drive which reduces all else to nothing, that's not healthy. When I committed to losing that weight it became something I'm always mindful of, like a constant background noise, that guided my conscious choices. Not that I didn't occasionally falter. But a misstep doesn't mean you stop. It means you learn from it and keep going.

It's about getting your mind right. Not because of a deadline. Not because of outside forces. But because you had a choice and you chose to do that thing that would help you get you where you wanted to go. It means making that active choice to do something that might be boring or even unpleasant now so that you can reap the rewards later. And doing it over and over again. It's a value judgement, the choice to commit to getting something done long term even when you perceive what you think of as your short detriment. In my case, it was I can lose the weight, provided I don't eat that hotdog. And I wanted that hotdog. One or two times I even had that hotdog. But the next morning I got back on the path to where I wanted to go. 

So, this year: Get your mind right. Pick a goal. Make a plan to get to that goal. Start. Stick to it until you get to that goal. 
  

Ask yourself if the argument AND the aftermath is worth it. A lot of folks forget that second part.  

Sometimes they just don't like you. And you don't get to know why. So you suck it up and move on. 

People aren't always as grown as they think they are. 

True love never really dies. It might get put to the side for a while, but when you dust it off it still shines as bright as if brand new. 

Intelligence matters. 

Concentrate on your own shit and let karma deal with the rest. 

More people are interested in change in their favor that equality.

Sometimes your best just isn't good enough. 

New Ranch

Ramblings Post #335
Ah summer 2017, and I'm home again, trying to get my situation right, as they say taking the time to do those things I need to do to get to where I'm going. The issue I have is, unless you're satisfied with where you are you always need to be working on the next thing. Which means I'm going to working for a long time, because satisfaction is a hard thing to pin down. 

After a bit too long a hitch at the old ranch, I've quite unexpectedly been moved onto a much better looking ranch just up north. Well, north Atlanta. North inside the perimeter Atlanta, not North northern Atlanta. It's complicated. And the transition has got me all twisted. But then, who is used to change?

To be honest, my old ranch was a place to do what I needed to do. Basically a stable, a pasture and the work. (Okay, I'm using metaphors off and on here, work with me - this ain't really no ranch but I'm keeping is nice and vague. For like, legal reasons.) But, I'd gotten used to the setup, as one does when one has been a place a touch too long. Traffic patterns for arrival, when the coffee was fresh, what time the bathroom was clear, you know, the basics. Then whoosh, just like that we get, um, the call to head north.

Now, let's be honest here, this new 'ranch' has all the amenities - free snacks, gourmet coffee, ergonomic chairs, A WINDOW, and more than the same four lunch restaurants which had fallen into a weird shifting rotation which could have me eating pasta three days in row. This place has an actual CHEF at the restaurant in the lobby. I stopped eating at the place near the old ranch because I just couldn't deal with 'guess today's price' style of running the joint. I will miss the brownies from that one spot though up the street though. Mind you this new place there is a Chipotle right there! But, the new ranch is however, as I said, further north...and therein lies the rub.

Not quite this, but for the Keurig machine the do have Stabucks cups. 

Atlanta traffic you may have heard, is a bit an odd duck. I'm fairly certain that the Marquis de Sade Traffic Commission was the principal architect of most of the city's thoroughfares. One fender bender can change a 10 minute drive into an hour wasted. The bit of I-285 between I-75 and I-85, which will eventually be known as Spaghetti Junction East and West, is commonly regarded as one of the worst stretches of roadway in the country. And all of that vehicular fever dream is directed towards or halfway funnels into and out of the area where I work now. It's a hot area. Which takes some of the shine off all the aforementioned niceties.

Given my druthers I'd much rather go in a little later and work a little later to avoid the peaks of rush hour traffic. Doing just that was an option at the old ranch, as the hours were flexible, but it isn't the case at the new one. Now that I have to deal with Atlanta traffic at its naturally occurring intersections of chaos, I have to have my track shoes on a lot earlier than I previously did, which is annoying to the say the least. It shifts my prep time and thus my whole evening schedule, which changes essentially my life. But change happens, so this is isn't the end of the world. The ride home however is a different story.

I used to have one of those unbelievable commutes, but I got deeply downgraded, to like steerage.  I live inside the perimeter, so my previous commute was 20 mins both ways. Seriously. People who live in Atlanta might scoff at the insanity of that, but from parking garage to driveway in medium just off peak traffic it was less than a half hour. I might get through five or six songs on a album. That five to ten minutes difference depended on one intersection and just how backed up the cross street was. That was the whole of my issue. Now, my commute home after a hard day of ranching is, well, unknown. I think it's 45 mins to an hour? Maybe more? All I know is that I get home at the same time or later than I used to, although I leave as much as an hour or more earlier.  

And while I get home around the same time, I now have to go to bed much, much earlier to get enough sleep. Which means my evenings just got smushed. My writing is suffering, my studying for the "cooking" school is suffering - metaphor people - and I just realized if I want to cook I need to start as soon as I walk in the door. I'm about to become one of those people who rushes to everything on Saturday because during the rest of the week I have no time.

So suddenly, I'm like normal people? What the hell?

Barkeep, I'm gonna need a tall drink of ...wait, I got to get early in the damn morning. Just an ice tea. Thanks.