Thursday, January 4, 2007
5 Things...Resolutions and Promises
Before the end of January, 2007, I will post on this blog five things I resolve to accomplish this year. Each of them will be significant. Each will be life-changing, for me. Some of them will require buy-in by readers of this blog if I have any realistic hope of achieving them. And every one of them will test my limits in some way. I don't make New Year's resolutions; I make New Year's promises. I won't disappoint this year..at least I hope I don't.
Hands
In the wierd dim light of my computer screen, my fingers look like strange blue sausages and my hands look too much like puffy blue biscuits. If I did not know any better, I'd say I'd just taken a much-too-powerful dose of a mind-altering drug. I know better. It's just the strangeness of the light and the plumpness of my odd little hands.
My mother wrote a story many years ago about her hands. Well, it was about her hands and her relationships with her brothers and sisters and her feelings of inadequacy and inferiority. But the story focused on her hands. They were beautiful hands, in her story. I wonder if my mother's story is coming home to roost in my plump little hands, the little hands that struggle to produce anything of value in this dim blue light, this wierd dim light of my computer screen.
My mother wrote a story many years ago about her hands. Well, it was about her hands and her relationships with her brothers and sisters and her feelings of inadequacy and inferiority. But the story focused on her hands. They were beautiful hands, in her story. I wonder if my mother's story is coming home to roost in my plump little hands, the little hands that struggle to produce anything of value in this dim blue light, this wierd dim light of my computer screen.
CubedNews
News 1
I attempted to impress a gaggle of leaders from a prospective client organization as they gathered at my office this morning for about 3 hours. Whether I succeeded remains to be seen; I should learn whether they recommend my company to the organization's full board just after mid-month. If they do, then the fun begins; an ultra-high-speed transition from another company to mine, smack in the middle of our busiest time of year...a small staff of six of us, which should be eight but for one vacancy and one person on sick leave. Who convinced me that I should run my own business? Whoever it was...you won...you got what you wanted...make the pain stop! What did I do to you to make you so angry at me as to persuade me not to work for someone else and just take their paycheck? I continue to want to try my hand at creating and selling genetically-produced lime/avocado mixes...maybe I'll call them limocados or avolimes. First, I have to acquire the skill to create them.
News 2
Today's weather in Dallas was typical for early January: cool, cold, wet, dry, warm, hot, windy, still, sunny, cloudy, sunny, cloudy, cloudy, cool, warmish, wet, warm, dry, cool, still, windy. Then, this afternoon we had a change. But it's back to normal again this evening.
News 3
A friend just bought a year-old Lincoln, the 2006 equivalent of the 2007 Lincoln MKZ. Despite my typical loathing of American cars and my desire to dislike irrelevant luxury, I have been impressed when I see the 2007 MKZ. I have invested a small fortune in my 1997 Toyota Avalon within the last few years, so I cannot justify getting a new, or even a used, car. But I'm feeling the fever. I promised myself that I would drive mine until I have at least 175,000 miles on it; I only have 147,000 now. And I've told myself I should wait at least until 200,000 miles. Silly me.
I attempted to impress a gaggle of leaders from a prospective client organization as they gathered at my office this morning for about 3 hours. Whether I succeeded remains to be seen; I should learn whether they recommend my company to the organization's full board just after mid-month. If they do, then the fun begins; an ultra-high-speed transition from another company to mine, smack in the middle of our busiest time of year...a small staff of six of us, which should be eight but for one vacancy and one person on sick leave. Who convinced me that I should run my own business? Whoever it was...you won...you got what you wanted...make the pain stop! What did I do to you to make you so angry at me as to persuade me not to work for someone else and just take their paycheck? I continue to want to try my hand at creating and selling genetically-produced lime/avocado mixes...maybe I'll call them limocados or avolimes. First, I have to acquire the skill to create them.
News 2
Today's weather in Dallas was typical for early January: cool, cold, wet, dry, warm, hot, windy, still, sunny, cloudy, sunny, cloudy, cloudy, cool, warmish, wet, warm, dry, cool, still, windy. Then, this afternoon we had a change. But it's back to normal again this evening.
News 3
A friend just bought a year-old Lincoln, the 2006 equivalent of the 2007 Lincoln MKZ. Despite my typical loathing of American cars and my desire to dislike irrelevant luxury, I have been impressed when I see the 2007 MKZ. I have invested a small fortune in my 1997 Toyota Avalon within the last few years, so I cannot justify getting a new, or even a used, car. But I'm feeling the fever. I promised myself that I would drive mine until I have at least 175,000 miles on it; I only have 147,000 now. And I've told myself I should wait at least until 200,000 miles. Silly me.
Wednesday, January 3, 2007
Night Fishing...more to come
If you read my post on night fishing, you might have gathered that it was not fictional. It was a snippet from a memory that has slowly faded over the years. I'll write more about it in the coming weeks and months, trying to capture the thoughts and ideas and emotions of a teenager who felt older (and wiser) than his years, but who was afraid to drift too far from the mainstream, lest his need for acceptance go unmet.
I've decided that I will try to capture as completely as I can the emotions and the sensations I have felt in various situations and then, later, will translate and transfer them to fictional circumstances. By doing that, I will allow myself to use real experiences and their attendant pains and joys and emotional dips and swoops to describe situations that I want the reader to really experience. I've done it before, but never consciously...this will be like going to 'being an author' school.
It will be awhile before I can write something like this in a way that won't cause someone to snicker:
"My nose captured the odors of the movements of the muscles in her thighs, causing my sense of balance to drift left and right and back again. I could sense the sweetness of the sweat dripping slowly down the nape of her neck. Suddenly, I was embarrassed, wondering whether anyone else on the bus could read in my eyes or in the twitching movements of the tendons in my wrists that I was able to read her physically, like a book."
I've decided that I will try to capture as completely as I can the emotions and the sensations I have felt in various situations and then, later, will translate and transfer them to fictional circumstances. By doing that, I will allow myself to use real experiences and their attendant pains and joys and emotional dips and swoops to describe situations that I want the reader to really experience. I've done it before, but never consciously...this will be like going to 'being an author' school.
It will be awhile before I can write something like this in a way that won't cause someone to snicker:
"My nose captured the odors of the movements of the muscles in her thighs, causing my sense of balance to drift left and right and back again. I could sense the sweetness of the sweat dripping slowly down the nape of her neck. Suddenly, I was embarrassed, wondering whether anyone else on the bus could read in my eyes or in the twitching movements of the tendons in my wrists that I was able to read her physically, like a book."
Who's gonna love you when your lips are gone?
How strange is my family? When I was visiting Mexico over the holidays, my brother and his wife had music on the iPod and a Paul Simon piece that included the phrase "who's gonna love you when your looks are gone?" Everyone there thought it sounded like ""who's gonna love you when your lips are gone?" I am still laughing about it. I'm easily amused.
Tuesday, January 2, 2007
Fact and Fantasy
We tried to enter the new work-year today with a positive attitude and I suppose we succeeded, at least to some degree. We took our staff out to lunch to an Indian restaurant we frequent, but which recently has changed names and owners. It is no longer the place we liked so well, but it is nonetheless a pleasant buffet experience for those who like Indian food. We closed the doors to the office, walked out, and had lunch. That's not something I'd normally do...leave the office phones unattended...but I am becoming highly adventurous and risk-tolerant in my advancing age. Actually, we left the guy who installed a new and outrageously expensive server for our LAN...he was doing a few odds & ends to finish the job. It will take until the far end of time to pay for that job, but we desperately needed it and feel safer now, with a new mirrored server and much better tape backup system requiring only one tape per night!
After a shorter-than-usual workday, my wife and I headed toward home, wondering what we might eat for dinner (though I know I could have skipped it altogether...and should have). We settled on a Cuban restaurant we've wanted to try, where my wife had ropas viejos and I had extremely flavorful beef steaks, smothered in tomato and garlic sauce. My order was tasty but too much food, so I practiced my Spanish a bit, asking our waitress for a small box to go. She corrected me, and I appreciated it, when I said "¿Tiene una cajita para ir?" Her correction was "¿una cajita para llevar?" I told her my Spanish was poor and I wanted to practice...she was gracious and smiled and said "Si."
On the way home from dinner, we stopped at a brand-new Barnes & Noble bookstore, hoping to find a Sunday paper. No luck. So, we will have to depend on the internet for news and the satellite guide for information about what's on the airwaves.
I took a couple of little breaks during the day today to read some blogs I've not visited as frequently as I'd like in recent days. It never ceases to amaze me that there is so much worth reading...and it never ceases to amaze me that there is so much with such little value. The internet is what we make it. I hope it continues to evolve more toward the New Yorker than toward The Star.
If you've happened to have read this blog much of late, you'll know that I've recorded a few bits and pieces I want to keep in my vault for future use in serious efforts to write. I think I have almost enough of a backbone to begin to construct the framework for what may become at least a potentially-publishable short story or two. I am ready to start trying to put the meat on the bones and fill in around the voids with the copious fat I've set aside. I will not record it here, at least not initially, but will put it in the hands of people who can make decisions about whether to pay me for it. It's a scary step, in some sense, but in other ways it's not. I have always written primarily for myself. That having been said, I often wonder if what satisfies me will satisfy others? Only time and luck will tell.
Through the lens of wishful thinking, I see myself explaining to a screenwriter and an actor the rationale behind certain elements of a storyline. I watch as the actor portrays a character I created and I flinch because his interpretation seems so far-removed from what I intended. But, as I listen to him and to the inflections in his voice and to the almost imperceptible movements in the muscles around his eyes, I begin to see a transformation before me. In place of the person who flowed from my brain and through my arms, down to my fingers and out along the page, I see a new character arising. This new character blends the clarity in my brain with an equally complete clarity from someone who must understand this character at least as well as I. Just as the actor did not conceive of the character I created on the page, I did not conceive of the character that will fill the screen or the stage. As I watch this unfold before me and marvel at how my character can become a new being, I begin to understand how the creation of a film or a play is a conspiracy between writer and director and actor and audience. The creation of a book may be, simply, a conspiracy between the writer and his demons, but the enjoyment of that book is always a conspiracy between the writer and the reader. It is for that reason that most books retain their superiority over the films and plays they become. The intimate relationship between writer and reader demands fidelity. The relationship between writer and film viewer or audience can never demand it; there are too many people naked and hungry in the bedroom. The channels of lust are washed with the lubricants of faithful unions.
OK. Pick the phrases above that qualify for the phrase: "These are your brains." Now, pick the phrases above that qualify for the phrase: "These are your brains on drugs." Any questions?
After a shorter-than-usual workday, my wife and I headed toward home, wondering what we might eat for dinner (though I know I could have skipped it altogether...and should have). We settled on a Cuban restaurant we've wanted to try, where my wife had ropas viejos and I had extremely flavorful beef steaks, smothered in tomato and garlic sauce. My order was tasty but too much food, so I practiced my Spanish a bit, asking our waitress for a small box to go. She corrected me, and I appreciated it, when I said "¿Tiene una cajita para ir?" Her correction was "¿una cajita para llevar?" I told her my Spanish was poor and I wanted to practice...she was gracious and smiled and said "Si."
On the way home from dinner, we stopped at a brand-new Barnes & Noble bookstore, hoping to find a Sunday paper. No luck. So, we will have to depend on the internet for news and the satellite guide for information about what's on the airwaves.
I took a couple of little breaks during the day today to read some blogs I've not visited as frequently as I'd like in recent days. It never ceases to amaze me that there is so much worth reading...and it never ceases to amaze me that there is so much with such little value. The internet is what we make it. I hope it continues to evolve more toward the New Yorker than toward The Star.
If you've happened to have read this blog much of late, you'll know that I've recorded a few bits and pieces I want to keep in my vault for future use in serious efforts to write. I think I have almost enough of a backbone to begin to construct the framework for what may become at least a potentially-publishable short story or two. I am ready to start trying to put the meat on the bones and fill in around the voids with the copious fat I've set aside. I will not record it here, at least not initially, but will put it in the hands of people who can make decisions about whether to pay me for it. It's a scary step, in some sense, but in other ways it's not. I have always written primarily for myself. That having been said, I often wonder if what satisfies me will satisfy others? Only time and luck will tell.
Through the lens of wishful thinking, I see myself explaining to a screenwriter and an actor the rationale behind certain elements of a storyline. I watch as the actor portrays a character I created and I flinch because his interpretation seems so far-removed from what I intended. But, as I listen to him and to the inflections in his voice and to the almost imperceptible movements in the muscles around his eyes, I begin to see a transformation before me. In place of the person who flowed from my brain and through my arms, down to my fingers and out along the page, I see a new character arising. This new character blends the clarity in my brain with an equally complete clarity from someone who must understand this character at least as well as I. Just as the actor did not conceive of the character I created on the page, I did not conceive of the character that will fill the screen or the stage. As I watch this unfold before me and marvel at how my character can become a new being, I begin to understand how the creation of a film or a play is a conspiracy between writer and director and actor and audience. The creation of a book may be, simply, a conspiracy between the writer and his demons, but the enjoyment of that book is always a conspiracy between the writer and the reader. It is for that reason that most books retain their superiority over the films and plays they become. The intimate relationship between writer and reader demands fidelity. The relationship between writer and film viewer or audience can never demand it; there are too many people naked and hungry in the bedroom. The channels of lust are washed with the lubricants of faithful unions.
OK. Pick the phrases above that qualify for the phrase: "These are your brains." Now, pick the phrases above that qualify for the phrase: "These are your brains on drugs." Any questions?
Monday, January 1, 2007
American Airlines Has Miserable Customer Service
My first post of 2007 is a brief rant against American Airlines. After arriving on the ground in Dallas on time, despite leaving Guadalajara a bit late, we waited more than 20 minutes just a few feet from our gate so they could find ground crew. Then, once inside, we waited for well over an hour and a half for the idiots in their luggage handling division to bother to even look for luggage. And that happened after I bitched and moaned loudly and took a photo of the jerk who was ostensibly their customer-service rep...who spend most of the time while I waited (along with many others) on personal telephone calls. When I snapped the photo, he and his colleagues threatened to call security, saying photos were not permitted. Somehow, some way, they finally got the bags off the plane and onto the luggage carousel. I did get the bastard's name, and he will be the subject of a very nasty letter to American Airlines. They will not even respond, because they do not care about customers...at least not as evidenced by corporate policies.
If any who read this blog flies American Airlines, I wish you luck. The company is just loaded with incompetents who don't give a damn about customers.
By the way, not a single apology from anyone connected with American for the delays, for the luggage screw-up, for the kid who spent a good 15 minutes on personal calls while customers waited.
If any who read this blog flies American Airlines, I wish you luck. The company is just loaded with incompetents who don't give a damn about customers.
By the way, not a single apology from anyone connected with American for the delays, for the luggage screw-up, for the kid who spent a good 15 minutes on personal calls while customers waited.