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I’m sitting in my mother’s living room still recovering from yesterday’s red-eye to New York only hours removed from the impending funeral of my great aunt. Needless to say I’m emotionally unbalanced. I have a very small family to begin with and with her death I can now count the members of my family on my mom’s side that are older than I am on one hand. Maybe it is the churning of memories, the slow movements through my aunts house, even the pulse of the city itself that reminds me of how I grew up. Each moment here is draped in memory, and the more I remember things the more confused I get. For starters, where did black Santa come from?

Its a curious question to be sure. It popped into my head while sitting here looking at a black santa doll, a remnant of this year’s christmas to be sure. The thing is, there was no black santa when I was growing up. There was no Kwanzaa either. The holiday was formed before I was born but it didn’t gain any real traction until I was at least ten. Being here and seeing all these new traditions makes the past feel distant and in many ways false–as if I couldn’t have come from this place and these people whose new customs I do not know.

The death of loved ones makes matters even worse because Aunt Darlie was the memory keeper; the person who knew what happened, didn’t happen, and how things unfolded for our entire family. It was her self-directed and very important role and now there isn’t anyone out there to fill that. So I wind up feeling like a person who grew up in a history that no longer exists–one that has been replaced by modern responses to commercial holidays and gentrified neighborhoods. I’ve become a tourist in my own childhood. Strange feeling there.

*Apologies for not posting this yesterday. I was away from the internet while in transit.*

Today I spent 6 hours on the football field watching my three boys have a great time playing a game I love and they have come to love as well. I cannot remember how I started playing football. I know it wasn’t my mom who got me started (or ever expressed any desire in my playing). It is just one of those things I discovered individually. I wonder if I’ve given my own boys enough room to discover things individually. Nowadays it feels like their lives are so scripted that there isn’t a lot of room for self discovery. As a kid I was lucky if I had a ‘planned event’ to go to or be a part of. Everything was me trying to find new avenues away from boredom. Today I spend a lot of my life planning things for the kids to do and spending an enormous amount of time being on—creating an environment where they are challenged, fulfilled, and given things to do.

 

I get that it is a different world from the one I grew up in, but how much of kids lives really need to be scripted and filled with activity. There is a lot to be said for self – discovery and independent exploration. Maybe this year I dial things back. Maybe I move away from the console and closer to the front yard where they learn how to decide for themselves what is fun and what is a waste of time.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. There is also a lot to be said for balance and for carving out enough of the day to be about you. I say this not so much because I don’t want to devote time to my kids, but because I also think it is important for them to recognize that being a parent means that your life changes—not ends. In other words, they need to see me experiencing my life and doing the things I love—especially the things that don’t necessarily involve or include them at the core. This shows them that parents can remain people.

 

 

 

 

Black Santa and other responsive fables

 

I spend a good deal of time around people who qualify as devoted gym rats. I am not such a person in any aspect of my life. My best friend once spent hours and hours training his video game character (in a non MMO–the original Shadowrun video game in fact) just to be prepared and bad ass enough to take on the game world once he stepped out of the door of his doss. I’m not that guy either. I’m the other guy–the one who does stuff when it is necessary and apparently works as hard as necessary to complete a task. It isn’t a bad person to be, but it isn’t who I want to be.

I want to be him, in a sense. I want to work as hard, not as necessary, but as possible. More to the point, I want to want to work that hard and train that diligently and do the things needed in order to be successful. I cannot say that I did all of that in 2015. I cannot say that I will in 2016. I can say that I gained an important level of awareness of where I am at with things and how I react to the world around me. Most importantly, I figured out the good in my heart and soul… and the bad.

So here’s my resolution in 2016: I’m going to be really good to myself. I’m going to allow myself the courage to fail and to learn from that. I’m going to allow my self the courage to succeed and learn from that.

Above all else, I really want to be the best version of me. I think I’m ready to actually make that happen.

2015 saved its best punch for last, and I have to admit. It dang near killed me. It al started well. The kids showed up at 5:40 and I was prepared with plates of sausage and pancakes to charge them up for the day to come. I knew there was some bad news to deliver right from the start. My great aunt–their great great aunt–passed away and I needed to tell them. They took it well. She was very old and lived a full life, so it helped that I was more interested in celebrating her memory than mourning it. It also helped that the news was given before we were set to drive to Flagstaff, AZ (a 3.5 hr trip) for their first ever ‘snow day’ sledding experience. The drive down was fun and filled with Daddy DJ and all sorts of growing excitement as we crested into snow territory. That’s about the only bit of good I can recall.

We hit the slopes and all had sleds and no gloves. My first trip down was super fast and I froze my hands. All the change in my pockets dumped out on slide. I collected it. The littlest Talislegger felt the same and demanded we go back to the car and get some gloves, even if we only had football gloves in the car.

The moment I got to the car things were bad. I couldn’t find my keys. It turns out I lost them on that first (and ultimately only) slide down the hill. I spent the next three hours searching through the snow for keys and growing desperately angry at a really ornery and not at all helpful ranger staff. I never found the keys.

After a dozen calls to different locksmiths I finally convinced one to drive up the mountain to make me a new key. He did it and charged me a straight up stupid amount of money for the service. Still, I was absolutely grateful for him and his good work.

Finally we got back in the car and headed home. We stopped to grab gifts for parties the boys had to go to (one that night) and after ten minutes on a series of unmoving lines we realized we would never get service and were getting later and later for the parties we were supposed to go to.

By the time I got home I thought the worst was over, but it wasn’t. I came home to garbage strewn all over the kitchen and library. I’d left a full (and closed) bag of garbage next to the garbage can and forgot to take it out in the morning before we left. The dog was grateful for the leftovers and, well, destroyed multiple floors.

Now I’m tired and bothered and sick of 2015. Happy new year and good riddance.

Some Thoughts:

1. It is not lost on me that my last post of 2015 is exactly 100 past the game year I became involved in writing for Shadowrun…
2. Sometimes I feel like I already died and I’m living some fantasy of a life I could’ve had. Weird but true.

 

A core principal of how I see the world is the idea that views–all views–are constructed. Unfortunately, some views are created as absolutes, which don’t allow any space for contrary or even slightly different views. Religion, for example is one of those views where often there is little room for different views. Is there one God or Many? God or Allah? The division we draw along these views creates tension that often bleeds into outright conflict. At the same time, the distinctions, or lines we draw, about our views is what creates identity.

What is identity but the balance of how we see ourselves and how the world sees us. That value is shaped by what we see the world as and how we see ourselves in it. This is all a large equation; the plus and minus of viewpoints and the 0,1 of computer language. When we find people who are similar to us we are largely talking about how these people view the world and view themselves and how they see their role and place in the world and the factors that affect that. This is why it wasn’t surprising that  a group of people in Walmart who all happen to be ‘open carry’ people felt the need to come together and acknowledge each other. It is culture and culture is often the signpost of identity.

The point of all this is to say that holding tightly to views creates suffering. The more I base my reality around particular views, the more I am hurt or enraged or shocked by the world not existing in accordance with those particular views. It is only when I am able to pull back and allow myself space to question, consider, even evolve my views that I can then find peace.

I want to start with an Emoji. I don’t have one so I’ll tell you that I am thinking happy face. The Eagles fired Chip Kelly today. I am pleased. Don’t get me wrong. I like Chip and try to emulate his offense in many ways, but he coaches the Eagles and that is not a team I spend any time liking. I think the bet part of his leaving is that it means the Eagles have some rebuilding to attend to and some questions to ask about their philosophy.

It has been a special week for football overall. Lots of records broken. I would say much more but I’ve been in and out of consciousness for the las ten minutes..

I’ve been moving through the past few weeks (post semester) without any real sense of purpose and that has led to a clear reflection on what was, is, and should/will be. The more I consider these points, the more that I think about my home and my practices and the very basic concept of where I am going.

As a writing teacher one of my favorite remarks to leave on a pear is ‘Where are you taking me/where are we going?” That is a clear indicator that I want to be on a journey with the writer but I want to have a sense of where that journey leads or what it is about. Life is a lot like that. When I was at my most confused and vapid, fat with minimal success, I had no goal–no destination. I had no journey. Nowadays I know where I am going and what I am moving towards and the new target is not a fixed point but a type and way of growth. So, when I think about how my life is going to be moving forward, I think about the dysfunction of mind and the idea that without an agenda or orientation it is very difficult to know what to focus in on.

All of this seems pie in the sky but on the ground level it involves some simple steps and changes: lists, being better to friends, being more in touch with my soul. Simple words, but big tasks.

I am in an abusive relationship with the NY sports franchises. The teams we call our own are utterly miserable. In truth, the entire hopes and dreams of the city’s sports fans presently hangs on the NY Jets. Yep, those Jets. The ones  who still talk about Namath as the last great QB. The Jets who last won in 1968. Those Jets. Why are they the hope? Well, the Bills have sucked since inception. The best they’ve ever done is get to the big show and straight up crumble. Four times in a row. The Giants are presently being beaten to death by the Vikings. This after a series of similar beatings throughout the year based on a near complete lack of talent on both the Offensive and Defensive lines that extends well into the Linebacker and Running Back corps. That’s what bad football is made of.

I’m not even going to get into depth on the basketball issue. Porzyngas seems to be the new hope of the NY Knicks, but I’m not buying it. They were all but out of cap trouble when they bought into Carmelo again. How’s that working out for you? How’s that move to Brooklyn working out for you, Nets? Nothing seems to go well for sports lately in the city that never sleeps.

I get the feeling some of these players need a nap. I just want some tough wins and a feeling that someone has the talent to go all the way. Even when the Mets were doing their thing this year it never felt real. I don’t know, maybe the city is cursed right now or it just isn’t our time. When is our time then?

There are some chances for us to get it right. The NFL offseason can bring change and promise as it did for the Jets. They did a lot of good–though in the era of Brady it means little. We will see how things pan out with these high draft picks next year.

 

If you haven’t watched Star Wars then stop reading now. I’m going to talk about the end. I’m going to talk about all of it and break own what changed from the Lucas years and what I think Abrams is up to with his take on how things should be moving forward….

 

SPOILERS, man!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ok. Lets begin:

This movie was not going to ever let me down. I say that because I’d already heard Lucas review it (he isn’t a fan) and the commercials left me very flat. I went into it expecting Abrams to be average at best and campy at worst. After all, he is the guy responsible for Alias and partially to blame for Armageddon. Please don’t misunderstand my language here: These were decent shows and movies, but as a Star Wars fan and a Christopher Nolan fan, I have extremely high standards for someone stepping in and taking over a franchise. After the second Star Trek (we shall not speak of the third) remake, I believed the dude had the chops to do it.

I’m convinced I was right, but I am afraid he aimed a little low brow on this one. See, the first two trilogies were essentially the hero’s journey over and again. I get it. The originals (4-6) did a bang up job of portraying that and they represented a moment in time for me. The first three basically showed how that Hero’s cycle began. It is for that very reason that I expected Abrams to step away from the formula and do something new and exciting and engaging.

But, he’s not Nolan.

Abrams gives us the best possible version of that same old tale, but adds something that makes the whole thing a surpassing commentary on fan expectation and the modern society. At least, I think he did.

Here is my take: The new trilogy introduces a cast of characters that are shades of their historical counterparts. The major proof of this is a weak-knee Kylo Ren who prays to a false idol and is only ever going to be a shadow of the man he believes he understands but really doesn’t–Vader. Now tell me that isn’t a social or political commentary. ‘You will never be as good as your grandfather, because your grandfather was a real man and part of the greatest generation. Yet, you will continue to try and look like a fool and be exposed for doing so.’

If I am right, the Kylo portrayal, the death of Han Solo (kill your old heroes to make space for new ones), and the utterly expected reveal of Rey and Luke (and Mara Jade?) Skywalker’s daughter is merely a passing of the torch to a series that will move away from expectation much in the way that Star Trek II-B moved away from the standard Enterprise stories. But where is it moving to?

Well, we know Snoke is going to complete the boy’s training and we know that Finn really has no story arc yet. We also have the promise of a powerful cast and the return of the Jedi order for the second movie, not to mention a First Order on the ropes and a galactic republic wiped off the board. I say we have a lot of new space to work with….

However, if I see Justin Lin anywhere near the set I’m going postal.

Some Thoughts:

1. Jumped back on the writing train today and it went just about as well as can be expected for day one. I grew tired far too quickly, I didn’t get a lot done. I got even less of value accomplished, and my mind wandered quite a bit. In other words, I made progress! It doesn’t seem like much on the surface, but much of the early part of any writing project for me is diving deep into the work. This starts that process. I wish I could learn how to stay submerged in the writer’s world forever.
2. Eagles v. Redskins tonight. An Eagles win means the Giants still have a shot at the playoffs, which at this point seems like a lark at best. I think they have the best chance of any team to actually be successful in the playoffs, but they need a lot of help to get there. A Redskins win means the Giants are looking towards the postseason as a time to recoup and plan a way to win more games–kinda like the Cowboys have been doing.

I’m sitting here curled in my favorite blue blanket thinking of yesterday and tomorrow. The blanket always brings me back to the time I was a ten year old kid and my Dad was still here and wrapped me up in this old thing and hugged me and made sure everything in the world was good. Thirty years removed the blanket is still here, old and falling apart, but here and keeping the memories and the legacy of things past. I’ve wrapped up two boys in this thing, the second still refusing to let it go and pass it down to his little brother. I don’t much blame him. He hasn’t had it for long and he recognizes what it means. He smells the history on it.

Or that could just be mildew.

Its all a matter of perspective, I suppose. We thrust great meaning upon things that, to others, are all but meaningless. I find significance in trinkets. I store memories in items, muggle made horcruxes that keep a bit of me alive forever. I also drink in moments. I drank in the moment of today, my first solo Christmas. The boys roused me about 7 am, anxious to tear into those gifts. As this is new to us, I started a new tradition of themes. This year the theme was Mind, Body, and Soul. Each boy got presents relating to one of the three and their job was to figure the category and how each gift fit in.

We did a dry run of the theme on Christmas eve day with their Christmas Crates, a loot crate inspired upgrade to the traditional stocking. They got hackysacks and bouncy balls to energize their bodies, Pokemon cards to challenge the mind, and Stuffies to warm the soul. The ‘real’ gifts followed suit. There isn’t enough time to explain what they were, but I can say that they were a big hit.

Christmas was a big hit. It was also a moment in time; one that will stay etched in my memory for years to come.