10 Minute Rule

Lately the ‘rule has been about me airing out my feelings and coming to grips with some changes happening in the world. And yes, Trump is a change coming to the world. Obviously he is or else he wouldn’t have been elected on a Tsunami of change. Still, the bloodletting of emotions and stuff on my chest has become standard for the blog. This led me to an interesting revelation: I don’t entirely mind being public about my feelings. Public airing of qualms forces me to explain the logic driving the emotional response and, sometimes, explain the emotion driving the illogical response. I think this kind of thing is important for everyone to attempt at least once. Say what you feel and explain why you feel that way.

I feel pretty good right now. I feel like it is going to be a great Thanksgiving week, even if the commercials profess more interest in the mass quantity of shopping that begins at 6 PM that night than the deeply moving and happy reason for the holiday. No, I’m not speaking of Native American genocide, but the reimagined view of the holiday as an opportunity to join with friends and loved ones without the worry of work or rush to go somewhere (other than black friday sales).

Relaxation is the real beauty of the holiday, because we allow ourselves so little time to simply be and enjoy being. We are rushed forward, driven into the daily fray like mice forced into the maze to scramble for cheese.

So, this holiday give thanks for the time and space to actually give thanks and to be around loved ones. Who knows, maybe next year black friday starts at 4.

This upcoming city flag football season will mark the first in at least three years that I did not coach. I’ve heard a lot about the upcoming season, namely about the conniving and hustling going on between coaches trying to recruit star players to their team. There were under 45,000 people in my town as of last year’s census numbers. Given the small population, the idea of stacking a flag football team in order to defeat the handful of other kids who actually have talent is stupid. I’m surprised it took so long for me to get to that realization.

This is really about the coaches and the families and the parents who want to see their kids be superstars vs. see them grow and develop. When I coached I worked to create a system that put the players in the best position to succeed. I liked the challenge of facing these so-called superstar teams and got an ego thrill from beating them, but coaching wasn’t about that. For me coaching was about being there for and being involved with my kids and their friends in their element. I still coach for those reasons, but I also have become more intrinsically aware of the growth aspect and understanding what these kids are working towards. Playing the city league can be fun and the practices can be an important learning tool, but it can’t be the end all. You can’t treat it like the Super Bowl.

Can you believe at one point I did? I sure cannot.

Oliver Wendell Holmes taught us that a brain, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions. Science tells us that he was right. Neuroplasticity is how the brain stretches and reshapes. It is also the reason I found myself in my familiar corner of the couch terribly upset.

I’ve been undergoing a change. For one I’ve been pursuing a deeper understanding of Whisky, triggered by a trip to NYC years back and reinvigorated by Changing Hands bookstore (WhistlePig Rye is supposed to be the cut). Still the drinking is the smallest part of what is happening. I am no longer satisfied with my life.

No, I’m not in crisis. I am merely more aware of my capabilities and my personal stagnancy. Maybe its already too late. Maybe all those skills I’ve worked to hone to this point have aged out the way my body has. Maybe I’m over the hill mentally or have reached a point where everyone else is just (mentally and physically) faster and more about it than I am.

It could also be a horrible excuse. I’m good at those lately. Excuses and explanations which in fact do nothing to further the betterance of myself. What I need is a change, more whisky, and the opportunity to reconnect with the passion that fueled me this far.

It will not be easy, but of course nothing worth having ever is.

Just gonna let it rip.

Some Thoughts:

1. I remain immensely bothered by a President-Elect who hate-tweets every time someone pisses him off. I get it, he won. We have to come together and support him. Do we? Did Congress support Obama? Clinton? Or did they literally shut the government down at every possible opportunity to avoid what they claimed would be destructive actions by the President? My memory is longer than that of pop media…
2. That being said, I am really saddened by the fact that we continue to be a country that seeks out its own version of the truth. That version and thus that truth varies from state to state…
3. Popular vote ought to be the thing.
4. Yes, I would have said that had Trump won the pop vote.
5. I need to go write something that isn’t Shadowrun.
6. This blog supposedly appears on Facebook, but I am not so sure.
7. Peter King’s MMQB remains the standard for sports writing in the USA. 10 Things I think I think is the basis of some thoughts.
8. The recent rise in hate crimes is unsurprising. A lot of it is happening in the schools where kids are trying out the stuff they see their parents do or say at home. So we say welcome to another generation that will be as racially charged and ignorant as the one before it.

I’m at DeSoto’s in downtown Phoenix and I don’t want to be here. I wanted to be at Valley Bar listening to my friend Chris perform his piece. Unfortunately, things didn’t work out. Actually, I didn’t realize Valley Bar was in an alley and by the time I figured it out, at least a half-dozen people beat me to the door. That makes it all the funnier that the person in front of me bought the last ticket to the show.

Yeah, I should’ve bought in advance.

I didn’t think they would sell out. I constantly underestimate the Artist and Writer’s scene in Phoenix. Its the New Yorker in me, instantly degrading any scene that is not the scene. I suppose that is amongst the many curses of being a New Yorker. Curses that include A-Rod, The Knicks, the haunting scent of subway tunnel urine, and a loco-cultural kinship to President-Elect Trump.

At least this situation gave me a chance to write and people watch. I am particularly interested in the dynamic of the post-teen hook up crowd. There are several predatory groups of men and women circling each other in the latest hipster flare. I stand amongst the masses, the Ansel Adams of the budding hipster set, quiet and observant. As the Bachata dancers fill in at the fringes of the space I am beginning to realize this spot really is not for me. Not tonight.

Besides, there’s a football game on and Vodka to be drank.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. Maybe I make 3650 after all.
2. Every Moment matters.

I wound up writing this longhand and I must count myself grateful for the experience. I started out writing longhand and once I found my way to a typewriter I would copy the notes into digital media giving myself a ‘free revision’. I won’t exercise those tricks for the ‘rule, but it is nice to know you can always go home again.

The Giants do quite well at home, managing to push their once perilous record to 6-3 on the year. That places them two games behind the surging Cowboys and set for a showdown where the last few games of the season absolutely count. I’ve been a ‘hesitant believer’ for the bulk of the season, only once voting against the G-men to win. My notes the other day about the defense jelling aside, there are some significant issues that have been exposed about my favorite team. Lets start with the fact that they have one of the most explosive 3 WR combos in the league and operate out of that set 95% of the time.

This leads to a clear cut problem: The Giants lack a relevant run attack. There is no discernible run game or clear cut lead RB on the team. It is running back by committee and the committee is trash. Maybe its the talent, maybe its the line. They cannot grind out the yards. Both TEs are pass catchers vs. blockers and that line I mentioned is patchworked with rookies and practice squad-born replacements.

Times are tough.

They still 6-3.

So here’s the question: Is it a legit 6-3? I say yes. And I think some of those losses didn’t have to happen. I am excited for the rest of the season as the team continues to come together and improve. The notes are out and we are gonna learn if Beckham can deal with the constant double team pressure and if the other wideouts will continue to step up. They better. All that money spent, there is nowhere to go but up.

Some Thoughts:

1. Landon Collins is the de facto Defensive Rookie of the Year.
2. I’m posting this super late, because I chose to avoid tech last night and finally sat down for the next 10. Which ought to be here in, well, 10.

I saw a calendar in the bookstore the other day that had a particularly real joke. It talked about how you could find a TV really worth watching… once you lowered your standards. I feel like lowering standards in order to accept behavior seems to be par for the course these days. This article on CNN reflects that painfully. In other words, we are at the point where we are accepting BS behaviors and straight up nonsense and standardizing it.

In other news I fear the dude from American Psycho just got White House clearance. Jared Kushner seems every part that guy in recent weeks and sees himself as a cross between Trump and JFK. He is neither. Based on what is being said about him, Kushner is likely the most dangerous man in America right now, because he has the President-Elects ear and confidence and an agenda that is based largely in petty revenge and personal gains.

Finally, a shout out to the Giants. My Giants have not been good, but lately they’ve discovered a way to come together and play like a top shelf team. The 1 pt win over Cincy signals the start of a slate of games that could push them past Dallas and into first place. I’m thinking big, but so are they.

 

Some Thoughts:

1. I adore romance. It makes me feel alive inside. More importantly, I love the look on my loved one’s face when I can do something small and romantic–something just enough to upturn one corner of her mouth.

Ever notice how teachers at the end of their career tend to be the best or the very worst of their breed? It becomes a polarizing factor dually giving rise to the notion that teachers should retire sooner or that at the end of the rotation a teacher doesn’t give a damn about the politics and is, finally, about the learning.

 

I wish I’d had more of those teachers in my time. I can name three off the top of my head, led by Herbert Greenhut, the best teacher I’ve ever met. He had a plan from day one and by day twelve it was clear to all of us that things weren’t going to be normal and our comfort zone, though gone, was being remade into something stellar.

 

I don’t invoke such a rise in my students. I want to. I feel like I spent too many years on the job trying to be a good teacher or an influential teacher or even matching some film-born idea of what a teacher ought to be (oh captain my captain). None of that is me. If I’ve learned one thing over the past few years its that trying to be someone other than yourself is a painful experience destined to end in failure. The most you can be is the best version of yourself wherever you go. I’ve moved back towards that in my personal and professional lives and it feels so good.

 

Some Thoughts:

 

1. Failed to upload this last night.

I grew up in Harlem, 135th in Lenox Terrace. Names like Percy Sutton and Charles Rangel were associated with the floors they lived on and whether or not they hooked me up with the good candy on halloween. Sylvia’s was the place I hated having to run to once a week because my mom demanded takeout. Wilsons was the place with the good muffins that I’d get if I did well enough in school. It wasn’t until I left the city that I recognized that what I took as part of my daily droll was in fact a part of black history I should’ve felt honored to encounter. Then Luke Cage came along.

Cage director, Cheo Hodari Cooker first came to my attention for directing NCIS: Los Angeles. This show relaunched LL Cool J and created pivotal black male and female characters who were equals to each other and the other cast members around them. This is an important point, because generally speaking female and minority characters play an inferior role to white male counterparts on TV. When they don’t, the show often becomes about the fact that they don’t i.e. The Good Wife, How to Get Away With Murder, and of course, Empire. Cheo’s characters existed as equals in a world where race existed but the idea of equality was not seen as a focal construct.

Luke Cage flips the script again, creating a world where race is a focal construct but not in the sense of racial balance. Race here is seen from the point of view of black america, where we are constantly striving to better ourselves and to create a space in which to show the rich culture and history of our people and to highlight those who have created it. Most of the people in Luke Cage are black and as such it isn’t so much about being black vs. white but about what it means to be black in harlem.

And he really gets harlem right. He sees the harlem I grew up in, but he puts it on a pedestal that I did not see until long after I was gone. In the hero Cage himself Hodari crafts a streetwise Captain America who pays homage not only to black culture but to the weekend morning kung fu flicks and blaxploitation films that defined early African American cinema. Luke Cage is nothing if not an homage to black culture–both good and bad. Its titular hero is a hoodie wearing non-hero who is just trying to get by and stay out of trouble.

He doesn’t stay out of trouble. What he does is take another step forward in cementing the power of the Marvel-Netflix franchise, and reminding viewers that this is but one slice of a larger canvas filled with amazing heroes and stories to come.

This is one of those nights where I don’t quite know how to start. What I tell my students to do in these situations is to just keep writing, letting the brain declutter until you find that thread of reason and inventiveness that wants to make its way to the page. This doesn’t always work–as a teacher and a writer. Occasionally the tank is dry and all you are left with are the words around the edges of sense that are barely worth sharing.

What I can talk about is my own life. I’ve struggled as of late to produce any valuable writing. I have lost my muse and am left to chart new entry points to the well of stories. My new plan is to sit amongst people and take stock of the lives and movement around me. While writing happens locked in an office, ideas come together on the streets, where people love, cry, argue, and misbehave. So I am taking it upon myself to explore AZ and take advantage of what the city has to offer me. I suspect I’ll be pleasantly surprised.

See, while NYC is unparalleled for its stories, people often come to AZ as an escape. Phoenix is the Vegas you actually settle down in. It exchanges slots for poorly imagined mcMansions and youth soccer leagues. On this quiet lamplit streets live people who are often running away from something or towards a particular vision of the American dream. I wonder where they came from and what about here–this sedentary life–is so compelling.

Some Thoughts:

1. Watched Saturday Night Live for the first time in a decade and it really was outstanding. Dave Chapelle reemerged and brought a Tribe Called Quest and Chris Rock with him. He was funny and poignant on the subject of the election and did a god job to ground things in perspective. Never doubt the healing properties of a good laugh.