What is Life?

Take your favorite author, or at least one you really like. Find an anthology with most everything he or she has ever written. Compare and contrast the early writings with the later writings. That which accounts for the difference – that’s life.

What Miller Said

I’ve got 6 pages left in my Miller Williams anthology. I’m writing because I don’t want to finish. I’ve been milking this book for quite some time now. Of course, this is the problem with getting a book with everything the author has written. It’s not like I can wait for the next CD to come out. My only chance to find something new is the unlikely discovery of some unpublished manuscript. Far more likely is that this, that which I’ve nearly finished reading, is everything some old man from Arkansas has to say to me. The courses of our lives intersected for some 271 pages, I took and did not give back, and soon I will say goodbye. Sure, I can read the book over at some point. It will be like remembering an old friend. But, let’s face it, looking through a scrap book will never be as good as living the experience the first time around, before it had to be cut up, disfigured, and glued to pages of an album. True, I will change and maybe next time I pick up the book, I’ll take away different lessons. The trouble is that the book will not change. The cover may collect some dust, but the ink will not alter its shape. What’s worse, the words will always sound the same.


10,000-Year-Old Tree Discovered
Shades Two and a Half Acres

This tree took root before Jerusalem,
Before Troy, before Constantinople,
Before there were cities to name,
Before there were farms,
The most ancient living thing on earth
For all we know,
Which may mean also in the universe.

So listen to this and tell me
How it grabs you:
Come let us open the door
To your new home
Where you can lead your guests across a floor
Older than Rome.

I Think Jerusalem is older but it doesn’t rhyme.
Anyway, poets use Rome to mean a really long time.



It Came to Pass on a Planet
Third from a Minor Sun in the Solar System
Out on the Edge of One of the Galaxies


If there are intelligent beings
In some other place
Did Jesus go to be born
And die for them there?

If he didn’t
Are they still offered the grace
Of God and if they aren’t
Is that fair?


I also liked the poem entitled, “The Last Man to Speak His Language is Dying” because I never thought about the fact that such people will exist. I liked the poem entitled “Divorce” about the man who faked his own death then snuck into the crawlspace of his own house during his funeral service to get away and stay close at the same time, listening to life go on without him. I liked the line “It’s you and I against the world my love,/The world is/I have to tell you/a prohibitive favorite.” I like how that first lines flows and how the rest is staccatic. I like how he sometimes talks about everyday stuff. I like how he sometimes talks about the big things. I especially like how he can talk about both at the same time:

I overdramatize somewhat. There’s nothing bricks,
a hoe, some putty, nails, and luck can’t fix.
Almost everything is redeemable.
The dog and I are not.

Time sometimes heals the mind
and the metaphorical heart
but ravages all the while the bones and the hair
and the poor, sad, fleshy part.


Having once been, as my brother liked to say, “an ivory tower intellectual,” turned blue collar worker (of sorts), I appreciate the importance of both ways of speaking and thinking.

I like also how I look up to him as an older, wiser person, having experiences or sentiments that I have yet to encounter:

I could say I love you but I don’t.
Love is more substantial than I am.

On self-referential action:
I let him do it because it made me feel good
To have somebody think that way about me.
It had nothing at all to do with him.

Now, re-read the above lines with the pronoun “her” substituted for the pronoun “him” and see if it still makes sense. It didn’t to me. I couldn’t be sure if that was because of some bias I have or because of something true about the world. Maybe something true about women, or men, or just me in particular. Then again, maybe it was something true about how men write about women, or about how a man reads something written about a woman by a man. But if it's about the world, more than readers and writers, then I wondered if some of us are simply better at externalizing that which is internal, while others tend to internalize that which is external. I wondered if it is of any philosophical or psychological significance that the only female smurf carried around a mirror all the time. I think about male conceptions of Justice and Science and how they purport to be objective, which is to say, without an internal element, and I then wonder of the alternative notions of the same, based perhaps on compassion and intuition. How different would things be then? And how low a position on the totem would I then occupy, he who has an incredible ability to extricate self from all judgment?

I like the line:

He’s tired of everything that humans know.
He longs to know what no one ever knew.

I also liked the story about the old lady that fell out of love with her husband out of fear he would die first and she would miss him too much. She cautioned:

You get too used to being half of something.

I guess it's a little like that here, no? I don't wanna finish the book because I have grown accustomed to being the recipient of those slow moving, Arkansan spoken words.

Music Recommendation

Artist: Joe Purdy

Album: "Julie Blue"

Fantastic. Part of the album is upbeat surf music, ala Jack Johnson. Part of it is slower, more contemplative ballads, ala Ben Harper’s earlier work. That said, his voice, style and delivery are distinctively his own. The surf influence is most apparent, but it also has some folk elements and even a pinch of bluegrass. Great music with which to just chill on the beach, or with which to chill and pretend you’re at the beach!

Check out his myspace page.

Or listen to the full album on his website.

I'm Old and White. Apparently.

I learned about this website http://www.myheritage.com/ which claims to have designed a computer program that can do a facial imaging scan of one of your photos and then tell you which celebrities you look like. I was eager to try it out, because I couldnt think of a single celebrity that looked like me. The program suggests that you use multiple photos for the best results. Here's what I got.

Trial 1:
The program suggested that I looked most similar to the following celebs:



Grigori Perelman. Edmund Husserl. Michael Moore. Romario. David Hasselhoff. Josh Holloway. Holly Hunter.

Um.... Ok. I notice that the first photo I uploaded had me sporting a pretty gnarly beard and I fear that may have skewed the results (except for Holly). Let's try a photo with less facial hair.



Trial 2:



Ernest Borgnine. Hugo Weaving. Kurt Russell. Abdelaziz Bouteflika.

ERNEST BORGNINE?!?!?!! Moving on...


Trial 3:





Jon Stewart. Fritz Leiber. Kevin Costner. Ed Norton.

Sigh. Not only do I not look like any of these people, but none of these people look like EACH OTHER!! What a crock! I quit.

High School Reunion

They say that life resembles high school. Some argue that the habits and social status you establish in high school will persist long after you graduate, radically and permanently affecting how you interact with the world thereafter. I’m not entirely sold that the die is cast by the age of 18, but there’s probably at least a grain of truth to the theory.

As for me, I went to high school at an all boys prep school in the suburbs of New York. I’m having a hard time coming up with a stereotype for my high school persona. I was nerdy in so far as I got good grades, went to class, was liked by my teachers, did drama, and speech. But, at the same time, I was cool, because I was pretty good at sports, hung out with the jocks at lunch, drove a cool car, and made people laugh. It was like I led two different lives. My cool friends didn’t care much for my nerd friends and vice versa, but right in between was where I fit best.

I distinctly remember the conundrum I faced when it came time to write my senior quote for the yearbook. They basically only gave you enough space to mention 5 people and/or memories. I realized that 5 would be inadequate to cover both groups, so I didn’t mention anyone in particular. The funny part is that two of the people that mentioned me by name were (1) the uber-jock – my high school’s all time scoring leader in basketball who went on to play D-I hoops and (2) the kid who won like 10 academic medals at graduation and is presently getting his PhD in robotics. See what I mean?

My school had its 5 year reunion a few years ago. I was somewhat tempted to go, because I was curious to see what everyone was up to, but I was then in law school half way across the country and it wasn’t worth the effort. It’s probably best I didn’t go. It would have been odd, as I’m sure those kinds of things always are.

Today, my high school reunion came to me. I had set up a MySpace account like 2 years ago, so I could check out the pages of bands. I never did fill in any of the optional fields though. Well, just a few days ago, a friend somehow found my page and try to add me as a friend. Lord only knows how he found me, because I didn’t have ANY personal information on my profile, but that’s beside the point. He found me and wanted me to be his friend. Now I’ve been found out and need to set up an account for real. I filled in the bare minimum and added him. But then it looked stupid that he was my only friend. Well, him and Tom, so I decided that if I was going to do this, I was going to do this for real. I added some pics, filled in my schools, and I was cooking.

24 hours goes by and some dude that I went to high school with finds me. He wants me to add him. He was like 2 years behind me, and I haven’t spoken to him in 8 years, but he was good people, so I add him. Another 24 hours goes by and this other kid wants to be my friend. I figure it’s spam, because I don’t recognize him, but when I go to his profile, I see that he graduated with me from high school. Who the hell is this kid? I can’t place him. What’s more disturbing is that in every pic he has, he’s in army fatigues and carrying a giant machine gun. Now I’m afraid that if I don’t add him, he’ll find me. Heck, he’s found me once already! Wait, I think this kid was in my homeroom sophomore year, which would mean that we haven’t spoken in 10 years. He doesn’t look exactly as I remember him (maybe because fatigues and machine guns were against dress code) but this is my only guess. I’m about 60% sure it’s him.

I think to myself. How in the world are these people finding me? Then I see that there’s a button you can click to pull up all the people that went to your high school. Ok, let’s play. Wow! What a trip down memory lane. I remember that kid; he went to my grammar school too! Oh, that kid was one of the very few people I’ve met in my life whom I legitimately dislike. Arr, he still rubs me the wrong way. Oh, and that’s the kid that used to walk like a pimp! Hey, there’s my best friend from middle school. That’s the kid that works at the corner deli now! Oh, that kid was so funny. His older brother once drove off at a gas station with the pump still in his car! Haha!

Here’s what I notice though. Pretty much everyone (there are only like 20 profiles) still lives within 15 miles of our high school. Not only that, but it appears that a lot of these people still hang out together! It’s been 12 years since the start of high school and they’re still hanging out together! Wild. It’s like I moved away and everything else stayed the same.


So, this kid wants to be my friend some 10 years after I barely knew him in the first place. I feel like I’m back in high school, trying to figure out a way to be friends with everyone and no one in particular simultaneously. Maybe those theorists are right. Maybe you never really graduate. Today, at least, is looking a lot like high school, all over again.

The Conveyor Belt: A Humanistic Portrayal of (After)life

You’re standing in an empty room. It’s a room that was built just for you. It’s just long enough so that you cannot see to the end. Had you better vision, the room would be a little longer. Had you worse vision, the room would a bit shorter. Whoever you are, you can’t see to the end, follow? For all you know, the room extends to infinity, but it doesn’t. It only extends just far enough that you cannot see the end, in both directions. Of course, I cannot prove this to you, because your feet are set in concrete and you cannot walk to the end of the room to see for yourself. Of course, I could walk to the end of the room and point it out to you, but I’d be too far away for you to see, so that would be silly. You’ll just have to take my word for it. The room is not square; it’s a rectangle. It’s far less wide than it is long, though. In fact, were you to lie on your side and extend your arms as far as they reach, the tips of your toes would touch one wall and your fingernails would come into contact with the other wall. Just go with it. Oh, and as you suspected, the room extends to infinity upwards. What you don’t know is that at the very top is a retractable domed roof. Sometimes the roof is closed due to inclement weather. At other times, you get wet.

Ok. So you’re in the room. Also in the room with you is a conveyor belt. It’s always on. This is your life. Everything you encounter each day is placed on this conveyor belt. Everything. Your friends. Your car. Your apartment. The sun. The waiter in the restaurant where you had lunch. Your dog. The wind. Everything. Also on the conveyor belt is everything that you don’t actually encounter but you think about. So, the song you can’t get out of your head. Your dad. The last girl you kissed. There is a slight difference between the two groups of things, though. If you actually encounter it, it’s really on the conveyor belt. If you just think about it, it’s not really on the conveyor belt, but it’s replaced with an artist’s rendition of the thing. He’s a really, really good artist though, so you can hardly tell the difference. You’d only notice the difference if you looked really closely, but life’s coming at your too fast to notice such detail.

But, here’s the trick. The conveyor belt slows down and speeds up based on how long you come into contact with the thing. So, if you think about something for a really long time, it will pass you very slowly on the conveyor belt. This is your chance to take a really good look to see if it’s an artist’s rendition or not! In other words, it’s when you get the conveyor belt to slow down that you really get to know something. Remember that.

Here’s the other thing. You will notice that sometimes you see the same thing very often, your roommate for instance. You might think that your roommate gets to the end of the conveyor belt, slips through some underground passage back to the front, and passes you again. But this isn’t how it happens. It wouldn’t be a very efficient use of his time, what with all the walking and waiting in line he’d have to do. Instead, there are several versions of each thing. That is, every time something passes you on the belt, it’s doing so for the first time. So, on Monday, when you’re passed by your roommate, it’s roommate, version number 1. Then on Tuesday, it’s another version all together. There are lots of versions of things. At least for those things you often come into contact with. But for most everything, there’s only one version and you only see it once.

You’ve often wondered what happens to things after they pass you. Technically, I’m not supposed to tell you, but I think I’ve already told you too much, so what the heck? At the end of the conveyor belt is a big pile of stuff. It’s everything you’ve ever seen. The longer you live, the bigger it is. Picture how big this pile would be. Let’s say you see your mom 150,000 times in your life. There are 150,000 moms in the pile. And let’s say you were stuck in traffic for a few hours and were passed by 30,000 cars going in the other direction. They’re all in the pile, too. Every time you went outside, that’s one more sun or moon in the pile. For every time you went camping in the wilderness, that’s one million more stars in the pile! Very big pile. The more you live, the bigger the pile.

Eventually, the conveyor belt with stop. At this point, you’ll get thrown into the pile. Here’s the funny thing. In this huge, seemingly infinite pile of your life, there’s only one version of you. Everyone will remain in their pile for the rest of eternity.

Knowing this, you’d be wise to employ some strategy while you can. That is, try to see the people you’d want to spend the rest of eternity with often. If you can’t see them in actuality, at least think of them, because a replica is better than nothing. You do, after all, have a lot of time to spend. You’ll want lots of them in the pile with you. If there are only a few, they’ll be hard to find. Also, try not to think of negative things – murder, revenge, thievery, deceit – because the shadows of these thoughts will haunt you. I encourage everyone to go to Hawaii at least once, so that you can add that to your pile. Add some flowers. Some good books. Oh, and add lots of things that smell good. The way your pile smells would prove very important. Add some live music and a joke or two.

Ultimately, it would be nice to have one of everything, you know, just in case.

Personality Tests

I thought it would be a neat idea to take a couple of personality tests and see if they said the same things about me. I took them all at about the same time to ensure that I was roughly in the same mood and state of mind. I'll have to sit down and compare the results when I get a chance. I'm posting the raw data, as well, for those who care to take a look. I've also provided links, in case you wanted to take a test yourself.

Facial Personality Test

Test Results

chin 81 nose to mouth 5 nose length 87 forehead 54
lower lip 46 nose width 91 eyes 69 face width 99
upper lip 99 mouth width 41 eye gap 92
*measurements are relative to your individual face dimensions
*measurements are then compared to averages yielding a 0-100 percentile
Stability |||||||||| 83%
Orderliness |||||||| 63%
Extraversion ||||||||| 73%
Your most prominent facial feature is your:
forehead
Your least prominent facial feature is your:
nose to mouth length



Stability results were high which suggests you are very relaxed, calm, secure, and optimistic.

Orderliness results were moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly organized, reliable, neat, and hard working at the expense of flexibility, efficiency, spontaneity, and fun.

Extraversion results were high which suggests you are overly talkative, outgoing, sociable and interacting at the expense too often of developing your own individual interests and internally based identity.



trait snapshot:

clean, likes large parties, outgoing, makes friends easily, optimistic, positive, social, high self control, traditional, assertive, rarely irritated, self revealing, open, finisher, high self concept, controlling, rarely worries, tough, likes to stand out, does not like to be alone, semi neat freak, fearless, dominant, trusting, organized, resolute, strong, practical, craves attention, adventurous, hard working, respects authority, brutally honest, realist, altruistic

Big 30 Test

Advanced Big 30 Personality Test Results Sociability |||||||||||||||||| 60% Aggressiveness |||||||||||||||||||||||| 79% Assertiveness |||||||||||||||||||||||| 76% Activity Level ||| 5% Excitement-Seeking ||| 8% Enthusiasm |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 86% Extroversion |||||||||||||||||| 52% Trust ||||||||| 24% Morality |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 88% Altruism ||| 10% Cooperation |||||||||||| 40% Modesty ||||||||||||||| 46% Sympathy ||| 10% Accommodation |||||||||||| 36% Confidence ||||||||||||||||||||| 70% Neatness |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 82% Dutifulness ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 91% Achievement |||||| 11% Self-Discipline ||||||||||||||| 49% Cautiousness ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 99% Orderliness ||||||||||||||||||||| 67% Anxiety ||| 4% Volatility ||| 2% Depression ||| 7% Self-Consciousness ||| 8% Impulsiveness ||| 1% Vulnerability ||| 5% Emotional Stability ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 96% Imagination ||| 1% Artistic Interests |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 86% Introspection ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 95% Adventurousness |||||| 13% Intellect ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 95% Liberalism |||||||||||||||||| 53% Openmindedness |||||||||||||||||| 57%

Trait	.	low score	high score
Sociability	60%	socially reserved, detached	friendly, open
Aggressiveness	79%	mild mannered, uncompetitive	predatory, domineering
Assertiveness	76%	introverted, loner	controlling, aggressive
Activity Level	5%	relaxed, laid back	vigorous, high energy
Excitement-Seeking	8%	sedate, restrained	adventurous, wild
Enthusiasm	86%	somber, pessimistic	cheerful, optimistic
Trust	24%	suspicious of others	trusting of others
Submissiveness	88%	rebellious, lawless	dutiful, obedient, compliant
Altruism	10%	selfish, cold, austere	helpful, selfless, indulgent
Cooperation	40%	argumentitive, confrontational	conflict averse, meek
Modesty	46%	arrogant, self-satisfied	humble, unassuming, doormat
Sympathy	10%	callous, heartless	empathetic, warm
Confidence	70%	not confident in work	confident in work, egoistic
Neatness	82%	disorganized, messy	planner, clean, anal
Dutifulness	91%	dishonest, derelict	honest, rule abiding, proper
Achievement	11%	lazy, unmotivated	driven, goal oriented
Self-Discipline	49%	procrastinator	responsible, efficient
Cautiousness	99%	spontaneous, daring, reckless	careful, controlled, safe
Anxiety	4%	relaxed, fearless	fearful, worrier
Volatility	2%	calm, cool	touchy, tempermental
Depression	7%	content, balanced	emotional, self hating
Self-Consciousness	8%	confident, assured	low self esteem, shy
Impulsiveness	1%	high self control	low self control
Vulnerability	5%	resilient, unphased	confused, helpless
Imagination	1%	practical, realistic	dreamer, unrealistic
Artistic Interests	86%	artistic indifference	art, nature, beauty lover
Introspection	95%	not self reflective	self searching
Adventurousness	13%	conventional, safe	spontaneous, bold
Intellect	95%	instinctive, non-analytical	intellectual, analytical
Liberalism	53%	conservative, traditional	progressive, open

Take Free Advanced Big 30 Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

Jung-Enneagram Test Results

ESTP - "Promotor". Action! When present, things begin to happen. Fiercely competitive. Entrepreneur. Often uses shock effect to get attention. Negotiator par excellence. 4.3% of total population.

Main type	Variant

Enneagram Test Results Type 1 Perfectionism |||||||||||||| 53% Type 2 Helpfulness |||||||||||| 43% Type 3 Image Awareness |||||||||||||| 60% Type 4 Sensitivity |||||| 23% Type 5 Detachment |||||||||||| 50% Type 6 Anxiety |||||||||||||| 53% Type 7 Adventurousness |||| 20% Type 8 Aggressiveness |||||||||||||| 53% Type 9 Calmness |||||||||||||||||| 80% Your main type is 9 Your variant is social

Take Free Enneagram Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

Cattell's 16 Factor Test

Cattell's 16 Factor Test Results Warmth ||||||||||||||| 42% Intellect |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 90% Emotional Stability |||||||||||||||||||||||||||| 90% Aggressiveness |||||||||||||||||||||||| 74% Liveliness |||||| 18% Dutifulness |||||||||||||||||||||||| 78% Social Assertiveness |||||||||||||||||||||||| 78% Sensitivity ||||||||| 30% Paranoia |||||||||||| 38% Abstractness ||| 10% Introversion |||||||||||| 34% Anxiety ||| 10% Openmindedness |||||||||||||||||| 58% Independence ||||||||||||||| 50% Perfectionism |||||||||||||||||| 58% Tension |||||| 18%

Take Cattell 16 Factor Test (similar to 16pf)
personality tests by similarminds.com

Love that Binds

I’ve been alive for almost 26 years. Let’s say that love has been in the picture since I was 18. During those 8 years, I claim to have been in love twice for a total of about 3 years. (A close friend of mine argues that I was in love a third time, which would push the total to 5 years out of 8, but I disagree that it was love.) I’ve never had my heart broken, but it has been said that I’ve left two broken hearted. Presumably, then, others have loved me for slightly more than 3 years over that same 8 year period. Let’s assume that I won’t get married until my mid-30s, or another 8 years. At this pace, I’ll fall in love another 2 times, breaking one more heart, while binding myself for all eternity to the other. I wondered if this was normal, but I didn’t imagine I’d be able to find statistics on this.

I did pick up A.C. Grayling’s “Meditations for the Humanist: Ethics for a Secular Age.” It’s fantastic so far. On his chapter on love, he notes that love is the most frequent topic of poems and songs (and probably this blog), but “paradoxically, the official line is that apart from a few experimental feints in early adulthood, love’s true heights should only be experienced once, with lifelong bonding as the appropriate outcome. Anyone who claims to fall in love frequently is deemed irresponsible, and with some justification: for it is such a time consuming, exhausting, ecstatic, painful, transforming business that requires a long recovery – in some cases, indeed, whole lifetimes.”

So, I suppose that makes me irresponsible. Unless of course, what I deemed to be “love” was really just one of those “experimental feints” endemic to young adulthood. Maybe I have yet to experience the “love’s true heights.” I’m reminded of the Iron and Wine song “Such Great Heights” (Yes, I know it’s a Postal Service cover, but Iron and Wine’s version is way better, so I’ll refer to it as their song, thank you.)

I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles
in our eyes are mirror images and when
we kiss they're perfectly aligned
and I have to speculate that God himself
did make us into corresponding shapes like
puzzle pieces from the clay…
they will see us waving from such great
heights, "come down now," they'll say
but everything looks perfect from far away,
"come down now," but we'll stay.

I find the possibility of greater heights hard to imagine. Rather, my sense of the matter is this. Of the two times I’ve been in love, I believe that was strongly as I could feel for someone. I can’t imagine one day feeling so strongly for a new person that my past experiences will be bumped down to mere “feints.” In that sense, I believe my love was sincere. I don’t think it was ‘peculiar’ though, because I have faith that I will feel it again, if not two of three more times. I also believe everyone feels that same way at some point in their lives. In that sense, it’s popular love.

Of the great heights version, I’m reminded of two of my favorite treatises on love, Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s Love in the Time of Cholera and Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s Sorrows of Young Werther. Both of the stories feature the type of love from which it takes ‘whole lifetimes’ to recover. While I realize such a love does occur, I’m not sure if I’ll ever feel it, since I’m so overly-rational. I’m also quite confident that almost no one ever does experience it, each for their own reasons. It’s uncommon love. I’m even tempted to go so far as to say that I hope I never feel it.

So, where does that leave us? If we conclude that popular love is all I’m capable (or willing) to experience, and further, that this is the case for the great majority of people, then what’s to make of the fact that this form of love only appears in young adulthood? My first instinct is to conclude that it doesn’t bode well for middle age. But maybe the contrary is true.

Grayling points out that there are lots of reasons to get married. In the old days (the Christian Era), people got married to unite families. As time went on, people tended to marry out of a sense of camaraderie; they were life partners. He cites to Jane Austen for an example of this. Grayling further suggests that Hollywood of the 1930’s – 1950’s was responsible for popularizing this notion of young love maturing through marriage into comradeship. Hollywood said that you could have your cake and eat it, too. As divorce rates suggest, maybe you can’t. Maybe, realistically speaking, you have to choose. And gun to my head, I’d choose comradeship. It seems a better long term investment. And, if there’s one thing I’ve observed about older people, even successfully married ones don’t burn the same way young people do. Point being, whether you choose to give it up at this age or not, it appears nature will eventually take it from you, whether you like it or not. And at that point, you’ll be best off, if you find yourself next to your best friend.

Not surprisingly then, the Greeks put the love of friendship on a higher plane than romantic love. And if they were right, then middle age doesn’t look so bad, and moreover, maybe you will see me, and others like me, ‘waving from such great heights’ after all... And don't bother asking, because I'll be old and crotchety, and I ain't coming down!

Back in the Game!

My favorite part of all social contact is the getting to know. I realized this today at the dog park when the lady next to me on the bench started in, “What is your name again? I think your friends with my daughter, Sarah.” It would certainly be a stretch to say that Sarah and I were friends. Indeed, until just now, I didn’t know Sarah’s name was, well, Sarah. I did notice the girl that’s usually attached to this yappy-barky dog. It’s hard not to notice the yappy-barky dog, what with all its yapping and barking. The girl that belonged to this outspoken pooch had a tattoo of a lizard on her calf. (Yes, I’ve taken to organizing girls in my head by their tattoos.) I remember her, but I’ve hardly spoken to her for 5 minutes in the 5 months we’ve shared afternoons at the dog park. I wouldn’t call that friendship. Some are more liberal with their words than I am, though. I’ve got nothing against the girl and if mom wants to think of us as friends, who am I to challenge mom’s authority? So, Sarah, who’s not present at the moment, is my new friend.

What else strikes me as odd about mom’s question is the ‘again.’ What’s your name again? I didn’t know Sarah’s name. Sarah didn’t know my name. Now Sarah’s mom wants to know my name again. How strange this all is. Still, just like that mom broke down the doors of stranger-hood by coyly suggesting that the three of us indeed had a history together. Indeed, had I not had the habit of remembering every spoken conversation I’ve ever had, I might place the blame on myself for having forgotten all the good times we shared, let alone the names of my dear friends. But, I know it’s mom that’s faulted. It’s mom that invented in the annals of her mind some past episode with me as the lead character that did not, in this reality at least, ever occur. But the again has yanked me into that very bizarre episode where Sarah, mom, and I are perhaps enjoying a leisurely spring picnic or maybe we’re playing badminton on the Outer Banks. Three peas in a pod. Cue the credits! The again has obliterated the cautiousness strangers express towards each other; we’re now at home with each other. Longtime friends, if just a little bad with names. (You, the reader, are now of the belief that mom misspoke. The crazy ole loon can’t keep faces straight or something. I wonder how you’ll feel at the end.)

I asked mom, “What do you do for work?” “I’m a psychic.”

Wow.

I’m floored.

A psychic?

A real life psychic?

Like a person that can tell the future? Levitate things? Read my mind? Uh oh.

“A psychic?!” I say, my eyes now as big as beach balls. I’ve never been one to mask my emotions. Good lord, I think to myself. I’ve never met one of those. I’m so ill-prepared for this situation. And there I was, mom, thinking I knew you! “My first instinct is to say something like, can you do something for me?” I say as I wave my arms back and forth like a magician on television. I’m looking at the rock some 15 feet away from us and I want her to make it fly. I’m seven years old again. I believe what I read. I believe that rabbits can be pulled out of hats. I believe. I believe. I believe. Wait, hold on, can psychics even do that? Who is it that levitates things? I’m SO ill-prepared for this conversation. I laugh off what I just said to make it seem like I wasn’t serious.

The way I feel right now, at this very moment, sitting on a bench next to some 50 year old lady that claims to be able to see the future, it’s best described as “Christmas.” I realize that Christmas isn’t exactly an emotion. It’s actually a day in December. But before me is a gift-wrapped box. I’m not sure what’s inside. I’m not sure what will be added to my possession in just a few minutes. I’m a slave to the mystery. I’m a coil of anticipation, bound up and ready to leap forth…. into what? I cannot say. This is how it is when I meet people. There are so many possibilities. The questions race to my mouth faster than they can be answered. I’m on. On.

I’d tell you what the psychic and I talked about, but that’s not what this entry is about. This entry is about the way it made me feel. It’s about the winter receding into spring. It’s about the days getting longer. She said to me, “My, you have a very inquisitive mind!” Yes! Precisely. And where had it been? And for how long was it gone? On the way home, I realized that I have been stuck in this rut of self-absorption lately. Maybe it’s from starting a new career, or the breakup, or trying to decide where to move, but I’ve been incredibly introspective lately. I’m most at home right in the middle of introspection and extroversion. Even personality tests will attest to this. But life lately has thrown me off kilter. Suddenly, I was violently jerked back into getting-to-know-you mode.

Interesting that it look a psychic to shake me awake, remind me how important social dialogue is to my mental well being. And I owe this psychological revolution all to her diction. Had she not chosen to use the word again, I may still be stuck in that rut. I suppose we’re to conclude that she knew what she was doing? Why didn’t she just ask me my name and have that be the end of it? I never would have asked her what she did. I never would have taken interest in her life. And the conversations I’ve shared since may not have unfolded in the same way. Was this all by design?

I remain skeptical. I’ll leave you with this. I don’t really believe in psychic ability. I haven’t really given it a great deal of thought, but my sense is that psychics like Miss Cleo take advantage of people more than they have a heightened sense of intuition. Still, I’ll say this, when the lady took off her sunglasses, her eyes didn’t look like normal people’s eyes. To be perfectly honest, the way she looked at me made me a slightly uncomfortable. I imagine she’ll give me more to write about at some point in the future… (And I further imagine that it will take the form of the absurd Conan O’brien skit ‘In the Year 2000.’)

All About the Donk

Thanks for the idea, Sarah. Maybe this will get the ball rolling again. Basically, you answer these questions using the random function on itunes.

How does the world see me?

Like a California King (Everclear)

Will I have a happy life?

Untitled Hidden Track (Love is Everywhere – Bob Schneider)

What do my friends really think of me?

Is This Love? (Cake) Ha! You’re all in love with me! I knew it!

Do people secretly lust after me?

Ballad of Paul and Sheila (Mason Jennings) skip then Love Hurts (Damien Rice). Wheee!

How can I make myself happy?

Girl Like That (Matchbox 20) “You’ve got to think with a girl like that any love at all is better than nothing. Yeah she drags you down and she pulls you up. She pulls you up.”

What should I do with my life?

Wasting Time (Jack Johnson). I’m well on my way…

Will I ever have children?

Middle Man (Jack Johnson)… what the hell is that supposed to mean? I’m not even going to consider the implications.

What is some good advice for me?

On My Way (Ben Kweller) the first line is “I wanna kill this man, but he turned around and ran, I’d kill him with karate that I learned in Japan” Geez. That’s GOOD advice?

How will I be remembered?

My Apartment (Ben Kweller) skip Shame (Matchbox 20) Great.

What is my signature dancing song?

Medicine (Bob Schneider)… that doesn’t make sense… skip… Song Cry (Jay-Z)… that doesn’t make sense either. Clearly, I shouldn’t be dancing. Fair enough. Moving on…

What do I think my current theme song is?

These Are Things (Wheat) “Because your heart's breaking, your mouth's shaking
Your eyes are full and high For now I've got to look out for me.” Interesting.

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?

Extraordinary Girl (Green Day) hmmmm… skip… Bad Moon Rising (Credence Clearwater Revival) “Don’t come around tonight, well it’s bound to take your life” Thanks folks, really. Maybe it’s all that Karate I was advised above to learn and use.

What song will play at my funeral?

Keepin It Real (Mason Jennings) I’m dead, what do I care?

What type of men/women do you like?

Grapefruit Juicy Fruit (Jimmy Buffett) …I’ve never actually listened to that song, so that doesn’t count. Skip. I’m Trying to Break Your Heart (Wilco) “I want to hold you in the Bible-black predawn You're quite a quiet domino, bury me now Take off your Band-Aid because I don't believe in touchdowns What was I thinking when I said hello?... I am trying to break your heart, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t easy.” I don’t know what to make of that. The only person I know that regularly wears bandaids is Nelly. I don’t think I want to break his heart though. Plus, I DO TOO believe in touchdowns.

What is your day going to be like?

Eskimo (Damien Rice)… skip… Everybody’s Stalking (Badly Drawn Boy)… skip… Mudfootball (Jack Johnson). “nothin’s gonna change, there’s no need to complain

Blog Jam

Having such a hard time writing these days. I must have started and stopped 5 different entries by this point. Oh well, something will click sooner or later...