10 Minute Rule

Working on the office and starting to fall back into the space a little. I need to rough it up. My partner talked about making these project boards and that space is ripe for it. What has held me back is a strange commitment to the stuff already on the walls. I think I ought to start with tearing it down–taking things off the walls and putting up project information reflective of the projects I’m working on now. I also need to get some new energy in the space–new images, new passages of prose. I need brain fuel.

And maybe snacks.

Definitely snacks. The space building has been a bit of a crutch. I do it when I want to avoid writing, which is absolutely counterproductive to what the space is for, so that is a problem. I need to work harder on getting the space in shape and getting myself in a mindset to actually use it.

Some Thoughts:

1. I need to know how my Giants are actually doing and why they haven’t picked up Dez.
2. School is about to be done for a little bit, so now is that time to buckle down and be a writer. In truth, it is always time to be a writer.

I am well aware of the fact that nobody is going to see this. The latest bit of migration drama upended the code that redirected those who hit the front page to this blogspace (powered by wordpress). It affords me the opportunity to, simply, not write. Only I can’t do that, because I am not doing this for any particular visitor. I’m doing it because it is my passion. Though passions can flame up or flame out, this particular one keeps driving forward. I am reminded every day that this is what I am meant to do. Likewise I am reminded that I am not giving it enough of my attention. I’m not doing enough to be producing enough, so most of the stories I’m meant to tell remain untold.

I thought up an exercise as I was driving home this evening. I thought about writing down a list of all of the things that are a part of my life and creating columns below each to consider the role and responsibilities of each. I should do this and I should journal about it because it sounds like a very effective life management strategy. It is the type of thing that will help me to understand where time is wasted and what is neglected.

So, there are more kinks to be worked out in this new service. Specifically, adjusting things so you all can actually see this page. The bug in the system this time governs where you land when you type in the site name. Folks are not landing here where it matters. Instead you are being directed to an old page (like 2012 old) where this thing first began. It will be fixed. I will blog on.

But for now…

 

Some Thoughts:

1. The game went just as I feared. My kid hardly played on offense. They left him in on defense and he did well. Coach said it was about missing practice, and I get that. Still, I cannot help but think that there is more to it. I became ‘that dad’ in this scenario, and I am trying very hard to not be. Two more weeks and I am done.
2. Happy Cinco de Mayo, people. My kids reminded me that most people don’t even know what is being celebrated beyond drunkenness.
3.  Colony is about to jump the shark, or at least fall into full cliche. Season two opens with the question of whether the initial attacking alien force has space faring enemies that may also be on or nearing earth.

I am not a fan of the person I become when my kids are playing sports. Specifically, I’m not a fan of who I become when they are training. I am not the kind of dad to be awful and get in the coaches way and break message and cause problems. In truth, if I am on the sideline it is by invitation and I absolutely stay in my lane. Unless, of course, I don’t.

Recently I ‘loaned my kid out’ to a team. Even the way I just described it smells of ego. It absolutely defines the problem. I’ve treated the season like my kid is slumming. I’ve been an absolute gentlemen on the field and at practice, but in communications with the coach I seem to constantly remind him that my kid is straight up slumming. To that end he’s stopped communicating with me via text and I am entirely curious as to how much he will be allowed to play on Saturday. I am likely overthinking it. I know the coach is human and I do not think he will take my attitude out on my kid. I feel like I ought to apologize nonetheless, but somehow that seems to me like it would make things worse.

 

I’ve grown accustomed to safe hires; to people ticking off marks on the list. Chance is something we do as kids. We risk and from risk we expand. We grow. We learn the limits of our capabilities. We stretch those limits to become what we are meant.

Then we get older. We slink towards safety. We are quiet and controlled. We turn our backs on our younger and wilder ‘selves and turn towards what we describe as reason and even survival.

We punt.

Consider the idea: It’s fourth down and the first–the second chance–seems far away. You punt the ball, play defense. You hope they screw up enough for you to have a chance. Punting is a way of giving the responsibility of action to someone else. The responsibility ought to be your own.

Oh great game Gods, I cry your pardon! I have strayed. I have felt my faith wither beneath me, rushing from me as tide draws water from the shore. I am not the gamer I was. I ask if this cloud of disinterest (you’re going to have to ignore the mixed metaphors here, folks) is of my own doing or if it is you who hath forsaken me?

I seek only truth and understanding.

Games have increased in number and beauty. There are so many platforms–too many to keep up. I’ve played nearly all platforms. I own nearly all the platforms. Yet I believe I play less than ever before. Is this truth or perception? I know that I play games on my phone. I cannot track the amount of time spent doing so. I know I play far less on the ps4 than in the history of my gaming life. I watch my children sink four hours into Fortnite and I play once, if at all. I am not engaged. This does not rise to the level of that which once sucked me in wholly as if the world on the screen was of far greater importance, demand, and even depth than the world of tactile sensations all around me. When I found EvE Online I played so much that it felt like I needed to put in a second work day just to advance in the game. The lure of levels and loot was so complete that I worked at the game more than my job and even during my job. I wanted to explore the great realm. I wanted to tell my story in the digital space.

RPGs are where the Martin brothers were born. I played both characters (call signs: Spartan and Jaeger) and wrote stories about them and their great Mechs as they strove to find their place in the Battletech realm. Games defined me. Playing was my pastime. Now I play less. I love less. Yet, I fear I have not replaced that love with other interests. It has simply retreated to a place beyond my reach. I know not how or why or to what end.

Some Thoughts:

1. LeBron James is a basketball deity. Straight up. He remains the best player in the sport today. Yet not even he is enough to push the Cavs to a NBA title.

I remain convinced that America has lost it’s collective mind. Consider the evidence: We’ve leaned so deeply into the turn of trusting symbols over substance that we elected a man who we all basically accept is a deeply flawed and egotistical liar who puts his personal interests over the rest of the known universe and insists still that the former president might not have been born American. He continually litigates past victories and relies on pithy one-liners and ill conceived attacks to get his way. He is, in essence, classic Flash Thompson without any of the athleticism and all of the bluster.

He isn’t even the biggest problem. No, the real problem is how we’ve ceded control to the corporations. America is corporate and the corporations that lead America are more often than not located outside of America (for financial reasons… supposedly). The largest educational supplier, Pearson, is located in the UK. Cengage, a rising force on the learning scene, is also located in the UK. Nobody cares, so long as books are cheap and speak to the facts that make them feel comfortable and safe.

That last point, safety, is a disturbing trend. More and more we are picking up guns and disguising fear of the other as fear of the criminal. In truth, it isn’t really disguised at all as the criminal is most likely to be portrayed as someone brown. It is as if the Obama victories were a wakeup call to a slice of Americans who got really tired of being blamed for things that weren’t in their control (slavery and historical racial politics) and sometimes were (like the high unemployment numbers among uneducated whites). So they grab their guns and say, “We got these and we got this.”

I’m worried about what is happening to my country. Most of all, I am starting to wonder if it is moving in a direction where our position in international standing is going to slip to a point where we are more likely to be the engine of finance than we are to be the engine of democracy. After all, if we are going to continue to see Trump as America’s Id, then perhaps we ought to also see that the begrudging attention he gets is more about how he can be used and manipulated than it is about how he is someone to be admired and perhaps revered.

Just Like Us.

Some Thoughts:

1. Contacted site5. Got the site back. Change happens when you force it.

“Give them time to get it right.” He said, imaging himself as Golum and this the fated conversation beside the pond.

“Why?” His other half was born of discontent, pride, and more than a little expectation of privilege. This side had no cause to wait and thus was likely the better looking version, with a fresh haircut, better tone, less belly, and actual credit with which to build a wardrobe and a life.

 

“Because it really isn’t going to do any good to pressure them. I’ll bet they don’t even know enough to tell you where they are in the process.”

 

“They know enough to know they aren’t done and we know enough to know that service has been interrupted for days. If this were a website that generated revenue—as it should be—we’d be losing money right now. I know you can’t stand to lose money, even if I’ve made enough good choices to do so on my end.” His end was a beautiful office that was the cornerstone of a beautiful house filled with a wife, 6 kids, and all of the color and style it could hold. He wanted to hold their talk here, beyond the mirror, but they held it somewhere inbetween in the nowhere space of metal and glass. He continued, “How long are you willing to wait?”

 

“I’m… I’m not sure. It’s only been three days.”

“Yes, but after six? Nine? When is enough enough? When will you be ready to act?”

“Act more like you?” He folded his arms.

“There isn’t anything wrong with acting a little more like me. We are best in the middle, where there is still enough push and pull for both sides to be happy and not dominant. Balance.”

“Ying and Yang.” His arms remained folded, his voice low.

“Yes, though there is far more of one than the other as of late. Perhaps as of twenty years ago. When I have my moments to creep out we do so well and then you take back over. We are supposed to be an us.”

“You know what we lose by me ceding ground to you.”

“No, I don’t. I know its hard. I know you see it in your head like chipping plaque off teeth, like breaking free from ice. I know you’re struggling with the pain involved, but I also know that it is the same way you still feel every time you’re at the edge of the water and hesitate before that first step in.”

“I don’t do that so much anymore.” His arms loosened to fall by his side.

“No, but once it hits your belly…” He shrugged. “First steps. Baby steps. Let’s try this thing together.”

“Together.”

 

 

 

 

I had an interesting philosophical conversation with my kids (interesting to me, and probably nobody else) about the nature of reality. It sprang from a conversation about Hadron colliders and the Higgs Boson particle (what the heck are they teaching in middle school?). We discussed the end of the universe and eventually wandered into conversations about reality and what constitutes one person’s reality vs. another. This, logically, led to a conversation about social reality and Youtube and Fortnite. All three discussed their own particular social realities and the values of those to them. Specifically, they were interested in talking about why what they care about matters in the larger scheme of things. What is most interesting is that they didn’t try to couch it in a discussion of how valuable their social reality is to my own. In other words, they were not trying to tell me why Fortnite matters in the real world, but instead describing the game and other aspects of their world in terms of what holds value to them and those around them.

 

It was an interesting moment for me, because I recognized that as a parent I am merely training them to perform in the ‘real world’ as I presently define it, and trying to teach them that games and all of that other stuff don’t necessarily matter that much. Why don’t they? Because they don’t necessarily translate to the things that matter in the ‘real world’.

 

This doesn’t mean that those things do not matter.

I am writing this blog while locked out of my blog. I’m having serious migration issues. You see, the other day it seems my host provider was sold to a company called site5. I did some basic web research on site5 and the reviews are not good. In addition to the blindside of suddenly discovering my site was in the process of migrating somewhere, I have no way of learning when this migration is going to be complete. There is no time frame, only the assurance that the site will be down until it isn’t.

 

Yeah, I’m pissed.

 

I’m not going to let this end the site. I am more determined than ever to solve this issue and get back online, because dang it I like writing this stuff. It has become a way of life for me that there is absolutely no reason to give up. Not now, not again, not ever.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. Mark my words, every pundit who is still praising Sam Darnold as the next great QB will be openly blaming the Jets when he sucks. Coaches will get fired. Reporters and pundits won’t. Next year there will be a new ‘can’t miss’ prospect and we will hear all about him. Once the media is significantly invested, they’ll definitely sell out to say he is the one. Then they’ll drool all over the possibilities of the team that took him. It is just how things work.
2. To be clear, I’m calling the dude a BUST.
3. Apparently stress can manifest as physical illness. I am that proof.