Month: December 2016

1. The post that went awry yesterday was me trying to point the finger at media for creating categories of news that need to be filled on a constant basis. These categories are not as simple as ‘human interest’ but more defined and complex such as ‘beautiful woman in tragic situation’. These are categories that are created by so-called human interest, which is really a happy way of saying ‘eyes on the screen’. Once the news decided to start choosing news based on crowd appeal, we lost. All of it.
2. Moving is really really hard. On every possible level it is a tough thing to do well.
3. The missing post ought to be loaded up soon.
4. I remain tired and sick and less than happy about the lack of productivity that mars my personal and professional life.
5. No, I’m not presently doing anything about it.
6. Yes, I’m spending the majority of my free time ‘on the sticks’
7. Yes, the blog is really starting to suck. I know. I wish I had a lot more to say,
8. No, I’m not depressed. I’m just crazy lazy and unmotivated. While this in of itself sounds like depression, it sounds more like what is finally forming into a midlife crisis.
9. Yes, I’m happy to see the crisis arrive and totally unclear on how to deal with it.
10. No, I’m not going to buy a sportscar or a supermodel.

The new high is ‘going viral’. Those who want quick fame talk about the opportunity to hit a million internet views on a piece they published. Often this happens ‘magically’ as a choice few circumstances come together to create a piece of media that explodes outward from the ‘net and on to the cable screens of the world.

Or at least locally. Rubi Ibarra Garcia’s family did it by accidentally making the invite to her 15th bday bash public and earning them over 1 million RSVPs. The news goes on to say that someone died at that party, but that is not is not what generated the infamy. What made the party such a mess was that the media picked up the story and decided that it was worth telling, vaulting a simple party into a notable situation.

So that is my brief and sleepy point for the night. The news media is looking for stories to tell and this is making it easier for everyone to get their 15 minutes, because everyone and anyone watching the 24 hr news cycle is looking for new stories to consume.

I do not take cases of assault lightly. I believe in chivalry and the right for a woman to feel safe and as if a man is not going to take advantage of her or attack her in any way. At the same time I believe this idea comes packaged with the notion that a woman receiving such treatment will do so under the understanding that she affords a man those same protections.

This is not the way the USA world actually works. Here, if you are hit by a woman then you are hit and have no recourse to retaliate. To do so would be illegal and expose you not only to legal and civil punitive damage but to social repercussion as well. In furtherance of this argument I give you Joe Mixon:

Mixon, the man pictured above striking a woman, was charged for the crime. The woman who hit him was not charged and was in fact allowed to sue Mixon. To go one step further, he was suspended by his football team for an entire season. Now I don’t pretend to know the entire incident. My research indicates that both parties were off balance and in the wrong. She went off on him for calling her friend ‘a fag’ and responded with a verbal assault. They continued the altercation inside where she put her hands on him. He reacted, flinching towards her. She put hands on him and wound up striking him in the face. He hit her back.

This is where it gets spun. She was drunk and high at the time of the incident. She hit him first. She claimed to get reconstructive surgery for her face but in fact never went to the hospital or received surgery. Witnesses indicate that she was wobbly before she went down from the attack. In other words, the severity of the attack was far less than it appeared.

So what happened? He was arrested and sentenced. She had no legal repercussion.

To begin: there is a 2604. Following the new Monday tradition I wrote it by hand, but failed to upload it. Now in bed late Tuesday eve, I’m not getting up to do it. Too cold. Yes, the desert is cold at night. At least in the winter. Summer continues to swelter 24 hrs a day. Often I think they add an hour just to push out more heat. No, I don’t know who they are. It feels like a question best directed a religions scholar.

Maybe ‘they’ are Aliens.

Regardless, I’ve become more interested in dealing with the world right in front of me and trying to make the best of that. I think we all go through periods of thinking we have it all under control and periods of realizing we have none of it under control. It is a cycle and I am in the none-zone at the moment. Still, the moment has proven to be rather enjoyable. I’m happy with the family and my life to a certain extent. I am finding peace and applying reason and reasonable expectation to all that I see and do.

This is a change from the 20 yr old kid who wanted to run the world from behind a desktop PC. Now I’m more interested in finding a space for my voice and creating a lasting contribution outside of my three very interesting boys.

Maybe I am a sap after all. I honestly believe that Sing is the perfect kid movie of that sort. I thought that about Cars as well, but Sing represents a musical feast that, while specifically addressing a very limited range of genres, was delightful and uplifting. It managed to keep my youngest awake and kept nearly every other kid in the theater enraptured from beginning to end.

It wasn’t just the music–though it was largely the music–but also the slick stories told around the principal singers. Each had a cross to bear (and resolve) prior to the end and it all wrapped nicely with surprising musical twists.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. I watched a lot more of Star Wars: The Force Awakens and I gotta say they left a ton of holes to plug–starting with Snoke and explaining the First Order in a legitimate way. Oh and there’s the Rey thing and the Kylo Ren thing–the Ren thing in general. To be honest, I have doubts about JJ’s ability to do this well. He hasn’t yet.
2. RIP George Micheal. He was one of the best.

So here I am in the wee hours of the morning on christmas eve putting together the great christmas hunt. I went with a different approach, making the kids run around outside, solve puzzles, and even do a tough exploration in minecraft. All of these things I do for the wonder of it all.

You know, even when I was at my closest to quitting writing I never wanted to stop creating wonder. I lost faith for a minute in my ability and dedication, but it turns out the desire to be a writer doesn’t really go away. Either you are that person or you are not, and I am that person.

I ought to make a resolution this year–or even before the new year. Here it is: I am rededicating myself to the craft, because I am passionate about conjuring wonder. Why else would I stay up all night crafting this magical hunt while other folks are in bed and more likely than me to be awake and happy when morning storms in upon them?

I’m a writer through and through and this xmas is a fond reminder of that. It is time to get back to telling stories about wonder and getting writing students to evoke that sense of wonder we all carry around in our back pocket and often forget is there.

We could all use a little more of that these days.

So, last night’s post never got uploaded. That bit about falling asleep on the keyboard was not even close to a joke. It has been that way for a few nights now. I return to the keyboard each night in hopes of finding something waiting in my mind, but discover all that is there is fatigue and disappointment. It isn’t writer’s block but a life imbalance that has my mind moving in one direction while my body moves to prevent the kids from killing each other. By the time I have a mind and a minute to get this thing (writing) started, I’m drained and seeking caffeine. Often I fail to finish the thought I began. For example, the last post was titled, Baud and I wanted to reference to source of that, the old school modem and the hacker site it spawned. I have my own in-progress site that I need to attend to. 2626East.com is based around the school I work at and the students I work to promote and improve every day. I hope to make that site become of value.

Beyond the 26’s my real focus ought to be writing, but I admit to being a bit lost there. I don’t know what I want to write. My confidence in the company I’ve been writing for is low right now for a number of reasons including creative ones. I feel like I need to do something else for a while and come back to that after. I feel like I need to grow but I don’t know it what direction I am meant to grow. All of these factors are compounded by a ridiculous deal of uncertainty in my personal life.

So, there I am. In a nutshell.

“Late nights mixed with early days, and it’ll probably be that way until the pearly gates” ~Big Sean

If I could do one really awesome thing for my kids it would be to build them a legit beyblade stadium. We’ve been playing again since the arrival of the new Beyblade Burst season. I’m a fan of the show and of the idea of beyblading in general. I’m even more of a fan of being able to create something that is meaningful for the kids as opposed to some type of simple gift I can pick up at the store.

The conversation with my eldest today about xmas led me down this dank path. What he told me was that he wasn’t excited about xmas, because there wasn’t any sort of gift he was really looking forward to. Now this in of itself is an issue. Xmas ought to be about family and love and spending sweet sweet time together, but it isn’t–not for kids. Without anything ‘special’ to look forward to as a present xmas felt empty to him. He was, however, happy about being on break.

So it fell to me to figure out what to get him–them–that makes it seem special. I suppose there is another way to go about it–to teach them the true meaning of xmas–but I’m not entirely there yet myself. I must admit that right now xmas is starting to feel like the pause button on my work life and a chance to sleep and recharge. Of course, that isn’t happening either or else I wouldn’t be blogging at two in the morning trying to keep from passing out on the keyboard… again.

It hardly feels like christmas.

On the one hand I know it is vacation because my kids are always home and I’m done with my classes for the semester. On the other hand, it doesn’t snow here so a few scattered showers are all we have to point to the holiday. The kids are not even in full santa mode. They know the holiday is nigh, but the christmas power has fallen back a bit. Part of that is a failure on my part to establish solid holiday rituals. We don’t do the christmas eve church bit. We don’t carol or play the christmas music in our home.

All of this is compounded by my own stress and fatigue and inability to string together a whole bunch of words. Perhaps tomorrow I will articulate this better… and earlier.

Love is hard and stupid.

There is no eloquent way to phrase it. Love exposes your deepest wants and needs–and yes, we do need. We need human touch. We need to be loved. We are a collective species. But when we love we risk hurting others and being hurt ourselves. It makes no logical sense. It is, as the Vulcans say, illogical.

But it is also inevitable. And beautiful. It is a waterfall at sunrise, the rush of water and mist and rays of a new day sun warming the skin, wrapping you in a cloak of sensation that only comes from this moment. It is belonging. It is feeling safe and needed. It is purpose itself.

And it is foolish and deadly. More people die from a broken heart than perhaps any other affliction ever created by God or man. Perhaps ‘Broken heart’ never finds its way to the medical report or tombstone, but the cause is the same. In the absence of love we are shells and automatons performing the mechanisms of daily life.

I have been in love my entire life, each drum beat of love stronger than the last; a heart being born and made stronger by affection. I am in love now and it carries me forward on a wave that crests and falls and rises again like that heartbeat that first brought me into the world and will in time carry me away from it. I love, I grow, I hurt, I love again. I share this cycle with a single woman and she with me. Together we feel these things. We love each other.  We grow together. We hurt each other without meaning to.

In the end our love carries us forward. It is beautiful and dangerous and illogical and stupid and everything wonderful about life.