Tomorrow morning, around 3:15, I will have lived for 60 years.
Some people find meaning in ages with phrases like 'Sweet 16' and 'Lordy, lordy, look who's 40.'
Others simply snort and say, "It's only a number."
I probably relate more to the former group than the latter. I know that when I turned 30, I was melancholy to have left my 20s behind. So much happened in that decade that was monumental to me that I hated to exit it.
However, when I turned 40 and 50, it didn't seem that big a deal.
I have been dreading (if that's the correct word) turning 60 for a lot of my 59th year. It seems like an old age milestone to me, and I can't imagine how it will be for 70 or even, God willing, 80.
I'm not sure when a person is technically considered a senior citizen. Or elderly, for that matter. But, though I see those in my own parents, both of whom are still alive, I don't relate the terms to me.
On the other hand, I complain now and then about getting old and the ways it has affected me and my wife physically. I won't go into all the details, but there's many a time I have wished I could be 30 again.
But, there's no going back and that's a tragedy of life.
Of course, there are those who would snort and say, "It's better than the alternative."
I'm not so sure I like people who snort.
Monday, June 22, 2020
Thursday, December 26, 2019
All Hail the Roaring 20s!
A new decade is almost upon us.
Next Wednesday, we say goodbye to the 20teens and hello to the 2020s.
I won't miss the decade we are leaving.
There has been too much loss during this time.
Some of the loss was unexpected, some of it just the natural order of how things happen.
Either way, expected or not, loss is still difficult to adjust to.
There have been some gains as well.
I won't go into any detail about any of this. I don't want this to come across as whining especially as I know others who have lost far more.
My wife says I live too much in the past. She may be right, but I make no apologies for it. I just try to deal with things my own way and much of that includes writing about things. I'm glad for the motivation even if it seems silly to others.
I expect loss to come in the 2020s as well.
My parents are quite old and I don't expect them to last another 10 years.
That is something my sister and I have been preparing for, but I suppose you can't prepare totally.
This seems to be one of the many negative aspects of aging. People can try to paint as rosy a picture as they like and say that the alternative is far worse. There is truth in that. But I think people generally tell themselves such things to feel better about it all.
I don't require that. I like the reality of it all even when I don't really like it.
So, since I rarely post in this blog any more, I thought a nod to the coming 'Roaring' 20s would be appropriate. Just keep the roaring to a minimum, please.
Some of us are trying to sleep.
Next Wednesday, we say goodbye to the 20teens and hello to the 2020s.
I won't miss the decade we are leaving.
There has been too much loss during this time.
Some of the loss was unexpected, some of it just the natural order of how things happen.
Either way, expected or not, loss is still difficult to adjust to.
There have been some gains as well.
I won't go into any detail about any of this. I don't want this to come across as whining especially as I know others who have lost far more.
My wife says I live too much in the past. She may be right, but I make no apologies for it. I just try to deal with things my own way and much of that includes writing about things. I'm glad for the motivation even if it seems silly to others.
I expect loss to come in the 2020s as well.
My parents are quite old and I don't expect them to last another 10 years.
That is something my sister and I have been preparing for, but I suppose you can't prepare totally.
This seems to be one of the many negative aspects of aging. People can try to paint as rosy a picture as they like and say that the alternative is far worse. There is truth in that. But I think people generally tell themselves such things to feel better about it all.
I don't require that. I like the reality of it all even when I don't really like it.
So, since I rarely post in this blog any more, I thought a nod to the coming 'Roaring' 20s would be appropriate. Just keep the roaring to a minimum, please.
Some of us are trying to sleep.
Thursday, September 5, 2019
1980s
It was the best of times, it was the best of times. It was the age of coming of age, it was both light and dark and all shades in between. It was the spring of love, it was the winter of pain. Everything lay before us, the road ahead was bright.
It was college. It was the Army.
It was marriage.
It was first forays into sexual intercourse and everyone was awash in testosterone or estrogen.
It was the era of arena rock which found its fertile roots in the decade before. It was the era of rock and roll gods, both foreign and domestic. The bands were big, the sounds were bigger, and so was the hair.
It was the time of independence, the shaking off of parental shackles. It was freedom and energy and desire to move wherever looked best to young bright eyes that hadn't yet been dimmed by age.
It was the decade of first car - four wheels that carried us singing along with the roads we drove and the radio songs blasting through just-installed speakers.
It was trying out new things, new people, new experiences, new places and deciding which were worth keeping.
It was the Cold War and a president who did indeed understand that Communism had formed evil empires around the world. It was a nuclear standoff.
It was the end of M*A*S*H with its worn-out commentary on how bad war is and everyone made it home. Everyone except Henry.
It was Family Ties and the introduction of Michael J. Fox who would go on to become a time traveler while rocking Chuck Berry. It was the Cars asking who was going to drive you home.
It was about rain that was purple, love that was tainted, and it seemed like everyone was livin' on a prayer.
It was the era of Lee Iacocca, the revival of Chrysler and the birth of the minivan. It was also the resurgence of muscle cars which had been quashed by the Clean Air Act of 1970.
It was the introduction of home computing and look at what that has since become.
It was the best of times and slowly but surely the icons of that era are all being erased.
It was college. It was the Army.
It was marriage.
It was first forays into sexual intercourse and everyone was awash in testosterone or estrogen.
It was the era of arena rock which found its fertile roots in the decade before. It was the era of rock and roll gods, both foreign and domestic. The bands were big, the sounds were bigger, and so was the hair.
It was the time of independence, the shaking off of parental shackles. It was freedom and energy and desire to move wherever looked best to young bright eyes that hadn't yet been dimmed by age.
It was the decade of first car - four wheels that carried us singing along with the roads we drove and the radio songs blasting through just-installed speakers.
It was trying out new things, new people, new experiences, new places and deciding which were worth keeping.
It was the Cold War and a president who did indeed understand that Communism had formed evil empires around the world. It was a nuclear standoff.
It was the end of M*A*S*H with its worn-out commentary on how bad war is and everyone made it home. Everyone except Henry.
It was Family Ties and the introduction of Michael J. Fox who would go on to become a time traveler while rocking Chuck Berry. It was the Cars asking who was going to drive you home.
It was about rain that was purple, love that was tainted, and it seemed like everyone was livin' on a prayer.
It was the era of Lee Iacocca, the revival of Chrysler and the birth of the minivan. It was also the resurgence of muscle cars which had been quashed by the Clean Air Act of 1970.
It was the introduction of home computing and look at what that has since become.
It was the best of times and slowly but surely the icons of that era are all being erased.
Wednesday, April 24, 2019
Poem Conundrum
I post poems I write on Facebook. They are up for a few days, then I delete them. Originally, I had thought to try and develop a market for them, but the effort doesn't seem to have born fruit.
However, a few people seem to like them and writing is a hobby of mine.
I am aware that people make assumptions based on what I write, so often I will add a disclaimer at the bottom for clarity sake. For instance, if a poem I post is particularly dark, I may say that it was just developed from an idea that I fleshed out and not due to any circumstances I am going through at the moment.
I don't need people concerned for my state of mental or spiritual health unnecessarily.
A recent poem I posted was titled "Candy" and it basically talked about a girl who used to be more of a friend, but isn't any more and the narrator ends it with calling her "poison Candy." Just a typical jilted lover kind of piece. I am happily married, so it doesn't reflect anything of my life.
I had a Facebook friend named Candi and I placed a disclaimer at the bottom stating specifically that the poem was in no way referring to her. That I was just playing around with an idea.
Her husband messaged to tell me that she was really upset by the poem.
I promptly deleted it and apologized.
He said he appreciated it.
Later, I unfriended him and her. They were people I knew a long time ago and the chances of seeing them again are slim to none. We just don't run in intersecting circles.
But I found myself irritated by the whole thing. It made me wonder about the whole getting offended thing and whether there's any real responsibility by the 'offender' who takes great pains to try and make people understand that they aren't the target. That the target is, in fact, fictional.
The mindset of living as one offended can really stifle expression. And what right do these people have to wreak that kind of oppression?
Welcome to today.
However, a few people seem to like them and writing is a hobby of mine.
I am aware that people make assumptions based on what I write, so often I will add a disclaimer at the bottom for clarity sake. For instance, if a poem I post is particularly dark, I may say that it was just developed from an idea that I fleshed out and not due to any circumstances I am going through at the moment.
I don't need people concerned for my state of mental or spiritual health unnecessarily.
A recent poem I posted was titled "Candy" and it basically talked about a girl who used to be more of a friend, but isn't any more and the narrator ends it with calling her "poison Candy." Just a typical jilted lover kind of piece. I am happily married, so it doesn't reflect anything of my life.
I had a Facebook friend named Candi and I placed a disclaimer at the bottom stating specifically that the poem was in no way referring to her. That I was just playing around with an idea.
Her husband messaged to tell me that she was really upset by the poem.
I promptly deleted it and apologized.
He said he appreciated it.
Later, I unfriended him and her. They were people I knew a long time ago and the chances of seeing them again are slim to none. We just don't run in intersecting circles.
But I found myself irritated by the whole thing. It made me wonder about the whole getting offended thing and whether there's any real responsibility by the 'offender' who takes great pains to try and make people understand that they aren't the target. That the target is, in fact, fictional.
The mindset of living as one offended can really stifle expression. And what right do these people have to wreak that kind of oppression?
Welcome to today.
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
A 10-Year Retrospective
As we approach the turning of the year, I decided to look back over the last ten.
This is what I came up with.
In 2008, my father-in-law passed away. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2009, my mother-in-law passed away. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2010, I took my wife and sons to Fenway Park for their first (and only) Red Sox game. Too expensive to do regularly. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2011, my wife had a brain tumor which was successfully removed. My oldest son graduated from high school. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2012, I had prostate cancer and had my prostate removed. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2013, my youngest son graduated high school and I was diagnosed with a degenerative condition. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2014, we made our very last trip to North Carolina after doing it yearly for over 20 years. I had a hip replaced. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2015, my oldest son moved out. My wife and I flew to Jacksonville, Florida to visit relatives. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2016, my youngest son moved out AND got married. My wife and I flew to Savannah, Georgia - the first time we have been there since 1986. It was for our anniversary and where I asked her to marry me. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2017, stuff happened that year.
In 2018, my wife had both knees replaced. We left the church we had been attending for 20 years. Other stuff happened this year.
So the big question for me is, are the years defined by the big stuff that happens or the other stuff?
Here's to 2019 and whatever stuff it brings.
This is what I came up with.
In 2008, my father-in-law passed away. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2009, my mother-in-law passed away. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2010, I took my wife and sons to Fenway Park for their first (and only) Red Sox game. Too expensive to do regularly. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2011, my wife had a brain tumor which was successfully removed. My oldest son graduated from high school. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2012, I had prostate cancer and had my prostate removed. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2013, my youngest son graduated high school and I was diagnosed with a degenerative condition. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2014, we made our very last trip to North Carolina after doing it yearly for over 20 years. I had a hip replaced. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2015, my oldest son moved out. My wife and I flew to Jacksonville, Florida to visit relatives. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2016, my youngest son moved out AND got married. My wife and I flew to Savannah, Georgia - the first time we have been there since 1986. It was for our anniversary and where I asked her to marry me. Other stuff happened that year.
In 2017, stuff happened that year.
In 2018, my wife had both knees replaced. We left the church we had been attending for 20 years. Other stuff happened this year.
So the big question for me is, are the years defined by the big stuff that happens or the other stuff?
Here's to 2019 and whatever stuff it brings.
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
Reflections of a Dead Website
Written in March 2007.
I got self-indulgent the other night. Logged in to poets.com, the old poets.com - it can still be
done if you know where to look.
done if you know where to look.
Had to sign up as someone looking to try it out, so I came up with a name that has never been me, never been used and gave an email address that looked appropriate for a porn site, all xxx's with a @ and .com at the end.
And once I was in, this time as mrscrubs, I gave a review of utter nonsense to someone I don't know.
Doesn't matter. That person will never see it.
I saw the top 10 lists still populated with names familiar for so long. There are a few people who keep trying to work the site like old times, but once you log off, you can't go back again unless you sign up again as someone else looking to try it out.
I looked up old friends, all the names and pictures are still there as well as the poems they left behind. I imagined reading and reviewing them, messaging them,
...receiving both back in kind.
It was a little strange, a little sad.
Like going back to the old house you grew up in and it's still there, but abandoned. All the same furniture remains in the same place as when you left it, but no one sits in it anymore.
If you are like me, you will walk around that house, sit in your favorite chair and remember what it used to be like. You will explore all the little nooks and crannies, trying to discover memories long since buried in musty time.
Eventually you will stop and realize that all the sounds and laughter you were hearing were in your head, that the reality is much more quiet.
And it will become a bit spooky as the memories turn into ghosts instead, leading you down the paths less pleasant as you wonder why you went there in the first place.
It is then that you will look for the way out. But you know that you will return again and again until you can't return any more. Until you lose the connection altogether.
Saturday, October 20, 2018
Offended on Facebook? Tell me it ain't so....
So I had a back and forth with one of my Facebook friends. Never met the guy, but we have a lot of friends in common and I once purchased one of the items he made. He is a phenomenal craftsman, and the pen I bought from him was a Christmas present.
This conversation then ensued....
(His side of the conversation in bold)
Me: C, you should know this....
Screwtape's ‘fixated on politics’ quote, is not by C.S. Lewis
C: What did you think of the content even if not written by cs lewis?
Me: I think it's spot on as did the article writer who refuted the attribution of the quote. I don't think it does our cause any favors by spreading quotes incorrectly attributed. It lends to the increased promulgating of fake news which means nothing can be trusted.
C: I apoligize this is so offensive to you. So sorry to rock your world.
Me: Um.. you didn't offend me. I'm sorry if I offended you by posting this correction.
C: You didnt offend me in the slightest. In my vocation im used to critics who spend their time making sure others are in line.
Apparently, "C" was offended if I read his words correctly. They kind of drip with sarcasm.
I do respond to inaccuracies in quotes on Facebook regularly. The same with hoaxes, scams and other such nonsense which floods social media. Most of this stuff can be quickly researched by the person intending to 'spread the word.'
But, they usually don't.
If we allow untruth to become accepted truth, then our culture will have nothing to base itself on that is solid and, well, trustworthy. I see it as a big problem.
I just wish everyone else did as well.
Monday, June 18, 2018
The Office vs Parks and Recreation
I have watched the entire series' runs of The Office and Parks and Recreation.
The Office aired for nine seasons from 2005 to 2013.
Parks and Recreation, an ostensible spin-off (though not in the technical sense of the hyphenated word) of The Office, ran for seven seasons from 2009 to 2015.
Both are ensemble shows which follow, more or less, a mockumentary format. I believe the original premise of Parks and Recreation was to sort of mimic The Office. Producers Greg Daniels and Michael Schur worked on both series.
Given the shared DNA of the shows, you think there would be more synergy. But there isn't and that's okay. Each show should stand or fall on its own merits.
Rashida Jones, who played Karen Filippelli on The Office, had the role of Ann Perkins on Parks and Recreation.
Where the similarities are slight or implied, the differences are significant. In The Office most of the storylines took place in the office. Some of the episodes ventured off campus, but for the most part the show took place in the annex, the lunch room, the conference room, Michael's office, at reception, and so on. This made the actual physical space of The Office a character in its own right.
Parks and Recreation however, broke out of its office setting early on and took place all over Pawnee and other parts of Indiana, not to mention San Francisco, London and Washington, DC.
The locale for The Office is a real city in Pennsylvania - Scranton. The building for the show was actually located in Panorama City, California and that is where most of it was filmed. The only Scranton scenes came in the introduction.
Pawnee, however, is a fictional town in Indiana. The show was filmed in southern California and the exterior shots of the government building are actually Pasadena City Hall.
The Office was about people working in the private corporate sector and Parks and Recreation was about people working in government. As such, many of the episodes revolved around political events while the folks in The Office just tried to sell paper.
Both shows are funny and, like any television series, have high and low points. Sometimes there is drama, but it's usually book-ended by humor and/or silliness.
Most of the primary characters in both shows are either single or divorced. The exceptions are Stanley in The Office and Tom in Parks and Recreation. Tom's marriage was an arranged green card marriage. Stanley's was a normal marriage.
To have that many single people working in one area is quite unrealistic, but it does allow for romances to take place between the characters.
The iconic romance in The Office was, of course, Jim and Pam, and it was teased from the start as she was engaged to Roy, a warehouse worker. It was obvious throughout, until season six that the two actors had a chemistry that made their connection very strong. Jenna Fischer (Pam) stated in an interview that the Pam and Jim parts of the actors really loved each other. Sounds a little schizophrenic to me, but I sort of understand what she was saying.
Many would probably point to Leslie and Ben as the main romance in Parks and Recreation, but I wouldn't,. Andy and April were, by far, the best couple on the show. They played off each other very well in ways that made them realistic and believable, particularly for the types of characters they played.
Perhaps an even better relationship in Parks and Recreation was the one between Leslie and Ron Swanson, her boss. It was a close friendship built upon working together, mutual respect and opposites attracting as both were polar opposites in terms of political views.
The only other The Office relationships that mattered were the ones between Michael and Holly who ended up married after Steve Carell left in season seven and Dwight and Angela who finally married in the series finale.
I have watched The Office for years, have seen it many times over. It was at its best and in full stride for the first five seasons, in my opinion. The seminal moment of Pam and Jim's wedding in season six changed the dynamic of the show quite a bit, and though there were decent episodes to be had, I think it started going downhill.
Parks and Recreation was a relatively recent undertaking for me. I had tried to watch it several years ago, but couldn't get beyond the first couple episodes. I just didn't see what others had been telling me. Then my son and a co-worker recommended I start with season two and the rest is history, so to speak. I think that the show tended to get bogged down in political campaigns and machinations, but the producers seemed to be trying to build something through them. Maybe they were using it as a platform to express their own political leanings, but they did keep Ron as a strong character throughout, so that was a plus.
I like to catch an episode or two of either show now and then. But I am finished plowing through them from start to finish. Now, it's a more leisurely activity that allows me to look in on some enjoyable and familiar storylines.
Kinda like skimming through an old favorite book.
The Office aired for nine seasons from 2005 to 2013.
Parks and Recreation, an ostensible spin-off (though not in the technical sense of the hyphenated word) of The Office, ran for seven seasons from 2009 to 2015.
Both are ensemble shows which follow, more or less, a mockumentary format. I believe the original premise of Parks and Recreation was to sort of mimic The Office. Producers Greg Daniels and Michael Schur worked on both series.
Given the shared DNA of the shows, you think there would be more synergy. But there isn't and that's okay. Each show should stand or fall on its own merits.
Rashida Jones, who played Karen Filippelli on The Office, had the role of Ann Perkins on Parks and Recreation.
Where the similarities are slight or implied, the differences are significant. In The Office most of the storylines took place in the office. Some of the episodes ventured off campus, but for the most part the show took place in the annex, the lunch room, the conference room, Michael's office, at reception, and so on. This made the actual physical space of The Office a character in its own right.
Parks and Recreation however, broke out of its office setting early on and took place all over Pawnee and other parts of Indiana, not to mention San Francisco, London and Washington, DC.
The locale for The Office is a real city in Pennsylvania - Scranton. The building for the show was actually located in Panorama City, California and that is where most of it was filmed. The only Scranton scenes came in the introduction.
Pawnee, however, is a fictional town in Indiana. The show was filmed in southern California and the exterior shots of the government building are actually Pasadena City Hall.
The Office was about people working in the private corporate sector and Parks and Recreation was about people working in government. As such, many of the episodes revolved around political events while the folks in The Office just tried to sell paper.
Both shows are funny and, like any television series, have high and low points. Sometimes there is drama, but it's usually book-ended by humor and/or silliness.
Most of the primary characters in both shows are either single or divorced. The exceptions are Stanley in The Office and Tom in Parks and Recreation. Tom's marriage was an arranged green card marriage. Stanley's was a normal marriage.
To have that many single people working in one area is quite unrealistic, but it does allow for romances to take place between the characters.
The iconic romance in The Office was, of course, Jim and Pam, and it was teased from the start as she was engaged to Roy, a warehouse worker. It was obvious throughout, until season six that the two actors had a chemistry that made their connection very strong. Jenna Fischer (Pam) stated in an interview that the Pam and Jim parts of the actors really loved each other. Sounds a little schizophrenic to me, but I sort of understand what she was saying.
Many would probably point to Leslie and Ben as the main romance in Parks and Recreation, but I wouldn't,. Andy and April were, by far, the best couple on the show. They played off each other very well in ways that made them realistic and believable, particularly for the types of characters they played.
Perhaps an even better relationship in Parks and Recreation was the one between Leslie and Ron Swanson, her boss. It was a close friendship built upon working together, mutual respect and opposites attracting as both were polar opposites in terms of political views.
The only other The Office relationships that mattered were the ones between Michael and Holly who ended up married after Steve Carell left in season seven and Dwight and Angela who finally married in the series finale.
I have watched The Office for years, have seen it many times over. It was at its best and in full stride for the first five seasons, in my opinion. The seminal moment of Pam and Jim's wedding in season six changed the dynamic of the show quite a bit, and though there were decent episodes to be had, I think it started going downhill.
Parks and Recreation was a relatively recent undertaking for me. I had tried to watch it several years ago, but couldn't get beyond the first couple episodes. I just didn't see what others had been telling me. Then my son and a co-worker recommended I start with season two and the rest is history, so to speak. I think that the show tended to get bogged down in political campaigns and machinations, but the producers seemed to be trying to build something through them. Maybe they were using it as a platform to express their own political leanings, but they did keep Ron as a strong character throughout, so that was a plus.
I like to catch an episode or two of either show now and then. But I am finished plowing through them from start to finish. Now, it's a more leisurely activity that allows me to look in on some enjoyable and familiar storylines.
Kinda like skimming through an old favorite book.
Tuesday, May 22, 2018
On Essence
It is very difficult, if not impossible, to capture essences in word, image or song.
They stir deep inside and connect on levels that go beyond mere sensory stimulation. Think on the experiential times when a subtle or overwhelming sensation accompanied all that was seen, heard, smelled, touched and/or tasted.
It may have been the first real spring day after a long, hard winter that evoked such essence. It may have been the first time seeing a spouse wearing nothing but a smile. There are many potential triggers that set off essences, both positive and negative.
They may be called many things: excitement, dread, elation, peace, fear. But even these are rather shallow descripts of the true sheen taking place in the inner worlds. The word 'ecstasy' comes closest as it contains a spiritual element as well as expressive.
The artist, the writer, they know this and spend their creative time trying to capture the ephemera.
Because, if it can be captured and bottled up in a work of prose, poetry, painting or sculpture, it will be bestowed with a timeless quality. If music can touch the soul, it will be remembered forever.
Basho knew this and strove to trap essence in his haikus. Elizabeth Barrett Browning knew this and published Sonnets from the Portuguese to that end. Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night was a strong effort to elicit essence, and the capture of the death essence was the motivation behind Beethoven's Fifth Symphony.
Did these crafters of word, image and song succeed?
I believe they did.
If an artistic work resonates with the viewer/listener, does that not speak essence?
Writers, in particular, seek through word choices and phrasing to create resonance. It is done with metaphor and simile as the juxtaposition of those with the subject matter can truly turn the mundane into something much more.
For instance, I could spend a few paragraphs describing a Saturday morning in the summer of my childhood and many may nod their heads with understanding.
Or I could say,
Saturday mornings were warm cinnamon.
And it would open up a whole new world of potential.
The downside to this would be the reader that doesn't care for cinnamon. In that case, the metaphor would be lost on that person.
But do you see how a simpler statement can create more resonance than a lot of description and listing of events? Do you see how essence is awakened?
I have written over a thousand poems in search of this essence. I have attempted at each turn to make them resonate. Mostly, I have failed. But I like to think a few of my pieces evoke essence.
That should be the goal of every artist, writer, musician.
Without essence, everything rings hollow, everything is flat.
They stir deep inside and connect on levels that go beyond mere sensory stimulation. Think on the experiential times when a subtle or overwhelming sensation accompanied all that was seen, heard, smelled, touched and/or tasted.
It may have been the first real spring day after a long, hard winter that evoked such essence. It may have been the first time seeing a spouse wearing nothing but a smile. There are many potential triggers that set off essences, both positive and negative.
They may be called many things: excitement, dread, elation, peace, fear. But even these are rather shallow descripts of the true sheen taking place in the inner worlds. The word 'ecstasy' comes closest as it contains a spiritual element as well as expressive.
The artist, the writer, they know this and spend their creative time trying to capture the ephemera.
Because, if it can be captured and bottled up in a work of prose, poetry, painting or sculpture, it will be bestowed with a timeless quality. If music can touch the soul, it will be remembered forever.
Basho knew this and strove to trap essence in his haikus. Elizabeth Barrett Browning knew this and published Sonnets from the Portuguese to that end. Vincent Van Gogh's Starry Night was a strong effort to elicit essence, and the capture of the death essence was the motivation behind Beethoven's Fifth Symphony.
Did these crafters of word, image and song succeed?
I believe they did.
If an artistic work resonates with the viewer/listener, does that not speak essence?
Writers, in particular, seek through word choices and phrasing to create resonance. It is done with metaphor and simile as the juxtaposition of those with the subject matter can truly turn the mundane into something much more.
For instance, I could spend a few paragraphs describing a Saturday morning in the summer of my childhood and many may nod their heads with understanding.
Or I could say,
Saturday mornings were warm cinnamon.
And it would open up a whole new world of potential.
The downside to this would be the reader that doesn't care for cinnamon. In that case, the metaphor would be lost on that person.
But do you see how a simpler statement can create more resonance than a lot of description and listing of events? Do you see how essence is awakened?
I have written over a thousand poems in search of this essence. I have attempted at each turn to make them resonate. Mostly, I have failed. But I like to think a few of my pieces evoke essence.
That should be the goal of every artist, writer, musician.
Without essence, everything rings hollow, everything is flat.
Thursday, April 26, 2018
Move along, folks. There's nothing to see here.
I used to look at the pictures and sigh.
That which had been another home for over 20 years still called to me.
Time slowly, but surely, took away the bonds that tied me to that land, but there were still the memories.
And the pictures.
And both were rich in meaning, in sentiment.
But now, it's different.
The images which filled me with such yearning have become distant.
I know that it hasn't changed. It is I that have changed.,
It's like having an ex-girlfriend. The cuts still remain even after a period of time. They may bleed a little. And viewing pictures of her may wash the mind with want, with sadness.
However, when enough time has passed, that which draws to her becomes weaker.
The weakening brings about new waves of desire now and then as the realization grows that moving on has taken place whether wanted or not.
And now, many years later, the sight of her on Facebook or yearbooks or snapshots doesn't stir any more. There are the memories, but they have become cold. Sterile.
This severing should have come as no surprise.
I have been through it before. Many times.
But even though I own a piece of that distant land, it still remains distant.
Perhaps even more now than ever.
Why the lot purchase?
Oh, there were thoughts of a retirement home. There was the dream of forever holding onto a piece of that which was a part of our lives for so long.
Now, it's just become about the investment, I suppose. There's no other reason to keep those two acres.
I have written many things about this. Those things, whether poems, essays or stories, have been recorded in book form so I have words as well as the pictures.
But each writing drained a little of the attachment from me. Like a weed it would grow back, often as strong as before. However, if you hack away at a weed over time it will stop trying to grow.
It will die.
Experiences in life are weeds.
Hack away at them and eventually they will die.
And all that will be left are pictures, words. Distant memories.
That is one of the sum totals of life.
That which had been another home for over 20 years still called to me.
Time slowly, but surely, took away the bonds that tied me to that land, but there were still the memories.
And the pictures.
And both were rich in meaning, in sentiment.
But now, it's different.
The images which filled me with such yearning have become distant.
I know that it hasn't changed. It is I that have changed.,
It's like having an ex-girlfriend. The cuts still remain even after a period of time. They may bleed a little. And viewing pictures of her may wash the mind with want, with sadness.
However, when enough time has passed, that which draws to her becomes weaker.
The weakening brings about new waves of desire now and then as the realization grows that moving on has taken place whether wanted or not.
And now, many years later, the sight of her on Facebook or yearbooks or snapshots doesn't stir any more. There are the memories, but they have become cold. Sterile.
This severing should have come as no surprise.
I have been through it before. Many times.
But even though I own a piece of that distant land, it still remains distant.
Perhaps even more now than ever.
Why the lot purchase?
Oh, there were thoughts of a retirement home. There was the dream of forever holding onto a piece of that which was a part of our lives for so long.
Now, it's just become about the investment, I suppose. There's no other reason to keep those two acres.
I have written many things about this. Those things, whether poems, essays or stories, have been recorded in book form so I have words as well as the pictures.
But each writing drained a little of the attachment from me. Like a weed it would grow back, often as strong as before. However, if you hack away at a weed over time it will stop trying to grow.
It will die.
Experiences in life are weeds.
Hack away at them and eventually they will die.
And all that will be left are pictures, words. Distant memories.
That is one of the sum totals of life.
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
My Cookie Journey
Grocery store bakeries do not create product that is anywhere near as good as a small, local bakery. However, among the grocery store chains, the baked goods can be compared and rated as to their quality and flavor of product.
For major chains, we have Hannaford's, Shaw's and Walmart. I like the breads at Hannaford's and Walmart has a good variety of pastries. However, for cookies and cakes I have found Shaw's to be superior to the other two.
I found some chocolate chip cookies at Shaw's that blew me away. They were a good cookie, chewy and flavorful, not processed tasting at all. But the pièce de résistance of these cookies was that they were dipped in chocolate which coated half the cookie. They were marvelous.
I introduced these cookies to many people and they all liked them as well. There was a problem, however.
They aren't made with any sort of regularity of schedule. When I asked one of the bakery people about it, he told me that he didn't know when they would be making them again. I asked if they were seasonal and he said no. Apparently, it's just a random thing.
So I decided I would try to make those kind of cookies myself.
Using frozen cookie dough from the store and a bag of chocolate chips to melt, I came up with these (bottom picture)....
My first problem was using the frozen cookie dough. I tried it a couple times and didn't get the results I wanted as the cookies baked rather flat and didn't rise. My second problem was that I caused the melted chocolate chips to "seize" when I put some vanilla flavoring in them. The smooth, almost liquid chocolate became chunky and grainy. I did some research to find out why and discovered that you don't add liquids to melted chocolate. People told me they tasted good, but I wasn't satisfied with that. I wanted good form as well.
So I kept at it.
For major chains, we have Hannaford's, Shaw's and Walmart. I like the breads at Hannaford's and Walmart has a good variety of pastries. However, for cookies and cakes I have found Shaw's to be superior to the other two.
I found some chocolate chip cookies at Shaw's that blew me away. They were a good cookie, chewy and flavorful, not processed tasting at all. But the pièce de résistance of these cookies was that they were dipped in chocolate which coated half the cookie. They were marvelous.
I introduced these cookies to many people and they all liked them as well. There was a problem, however.
They aren't made with any sort of regularity of schedule. When I asked one of the bakery people about it, he told me that he didn't know when they would be making them again. I asked if they were seasonal and he said no. Apparently, it's just a random thing.
So I decided I would try to make those kind of cookies myself.
Using frozen cookie dough from the store and a bag of chocolate chips to melt, I came up with these (bottom picture)....
So I kept at it.
Next attempt was by using the Toll House cookie recipe on the back of the chocolate chip bag. They turned out looking like this:
These were closer to what I wanted and I knew I was going in the right direction.
For my next experiment, I tried putting macademia nuts in the cookies and using white chocolate disks for the melt. Turns out you can purchase chocolate just for melting and in the store it comes in dark chocolate or white. They are made by Ghirardelli.
This was the result of that effort:
Esthetically, my cookies were looking better with each attempt. I nailed down ingredients, baking times (which I experimented with), and equipment for mixing and baking. I found that a double layer cookie sheet gives me a better result than a single layer.
For the next attempt, I tried making Snickerdoodles and I used eggnog in them because I had some left over and wanted to get rid of it. The dairy in eggnog and butter made the cookies very cakey which was nice, but I still preferred chewy over that.
I tried Snickerdoodles again, but this time I used a white chocolate drizzle on top of them. This is what they looked like:
Some people on Facebook commented negatively about my doing this, but I didn't really care. I thought they were good and some skeptics tried them and agreed.
Another batch I made was to use up a bunch of M&Ms I got for Christmas. No chocolate coating on these, I did however, add some cinnamon to the cookie dough and rather liked the flavor.
My most recent two batches were done within a week of each other. The first was to send to a friend of mine, and I also took some to my parents. They were dark chocolate chip cookies with a white chocolate dip.
These had mini semi-sweet chocolate chips in them and their texture was a little different from what I had been getting previously. I tend to think it was because instead of using 1-1/2 cups of brown sugar, I used 1 cup brown and 1/2 of white sugar. Not sure though.
And the last batch I made just a few days ago, I used peanut butter chips and totally coated the cookies with chocolate. I was very pleased with the way they turned out.
Not pictured or mentioned anywhere here was a batch of Snickerdoodles I made with dark brown sugar. They were good, but the dark brown sugar made them taste like molasses cookies. I also used butter in them which made the cookies cakey.
All in all, I have enjoyed the process of experimenting with cookies and tweaking the recipes to get desired results.
I think now that I never have to go back to Shaw's and buy their cookies again.
Thursday, December 14, 2017
Gone Are Places We Played
A common experience among those who have put some miles under their feet is the loss of old, familiar places. I covered some of this in the post Greater Portland Ghosts. But there are more intimate places that get replaced by something else and the intimacy stems from places where we recreate.
Fields that we played in as children, amusement parks where we experienced carefree fun, campgrounds where most of the time was spent in the great outdoors with friends or family; these are places that are fondly remembered even when current residents or neighbors have no clue as to their former existence..
It is my intent to talk a little about some of the playgrounds that still come to mind. Most are from my childhood but a few are from teen and adult years.
1. Neighborhood fields where we used to play baseball in the summer and sled in the winter. They have all been developed now closing off the open spaces.
2. There used to be woods behind a friend's house and we spent much time exploring those woods, making forts, etc. Additionally, his folks installed an in-ground pool where we swam in the summer. Those woods and pool are gone. The house is on the left. The pool would have been to the right of the fence. Behind and to the right of that were the woods.
3. For several years, my family spent a couple weeks at a camp at Highland Lake. Those were memorable years. Unfortunately, the area where the beach used to be for those camps without lakefront access no longer exists. Unable to find any pictures of it, I am just including a Google maps satellite view. The white circle shows where the beach used to be. Now there's another camp.
Fields that we played in as children, amusement parks where we experienced carefree fun, campgrounds where most of the time was spent in the great outdoors with friends or family; these are places that are fondly remembered even when current residents or neighbors have no clue as to their former existence..
It is my intent to talk a little about some of the playgrounds that still come to mind. Most are from my childhood but a few are from teen and adult years.
1. Neighborhood fields where we used to play baseball in the summer and sled in the winter. They have all been developed now closing off the open spaces.
2. There used to be woods behind a friend's house and we spent much time exploring those woods, making forts, etc. Additionally, his folks installed an in-ground pool where we swam in the summer. Those woods and pool are gone. The house is on the left. The pool would have been to the right of the fence. Behind and to the right of that were the woods.
3. For several years, my family spent a couple weeks at a camp at Highland Lake. Those were memorable years. Unfortunately, the area where the beach used to be for those camps without lakefront access no longer exists. Unable to find any pictures of it, I am just including a Google maps satellite view. The white circle shows where the beach used to be. Now there's another camp.
4. I played on the tennis team in 9th grade. The tennis courts weren't next to the school. There was a little walk over Mill Creek and through some woods to get to them. There were three courts in this spot and it sat just above the creek which flowed under Broadway, into and through the Figure 8 Park and then on out to Casco Bay. In the summer, I used to meet Don Hendren, the youth pastor at my church, to play tennis. Now the area is a parking lot and I don't know what Mahoney Middle School does for tennis courts.
5. In Old Orchard Beach, there was a place you could pay a fee and ride horses on woods trails. A guide wasn't needed and it was a great group activity. It was called Judy Ann Stables. It's no longer in existence. The photo here is of a more current business somewhere and apparently riders are required to wear helmets. That requirement didn't exist back in the 70s.
6. In Hull,Massachusetts is Nantasket Beach. Standard beach on a cold Atlantic Ocean, it used to abut Paragon Park. My last memory of Paragon Park was coming down here from college and spending 30 minutes on a water slide. Dave and I would slide down as quickly as possible and run back up the stairs. I think we got close to 20 runs in. Afterwards, we went swimming in the ocean and then hopped over to a bar on the main strip for a beer. Paragon Park was closed in 1984.
7. Seminole Point Lodge was a lovely retreat located on Lake Sunapee in New Hampshire. It had a rustic meeting room with large fireplace , a small theater, a game room, and sleeping quarters. In the winter you could ice skate on the lake, ride a toboggan down a chute and slide out onto the lake, have snowball fights with other groups of people staying there. I don't know when it closed, but all I've been able to find is vintage postcards of it for sale on Amazon.
8. Lake Delores Waterpark (aka Rock–A–Hoola Waterpark and Discovery Waterpark) was located in the Mojave Desert not far from Barstow, California. After an NTC rotation at Fort Irwin, we were invited to spend the day at the park. There were waterslides, rope swings, other activities I don't remember all centered around these manmade pools in the desert. It is now abandoned but went through a few permutations as new owners tried to make a go of it.
9. The Why Not night/dance club in Hinesville, Georgia was a regular hangout spot for many when I was stationed at Fort Stewart. Even after I was discharged from the Army, it became a customer of mine as I sold newspaper advertising in Hinesville for a year until my wife was discharged from the Army. Now it is a large pawn shop. I've been inside and spoken with the owners. They told me that a lot of people have come in telling them about the Why Not. I guess it left an impression on others as well..
10. And the granddaddy of them all is Camp Wakonda in Richmond, Maine. I spent several years there as a camper, counselor and worker. It holds a special place in my memories for all the time spent there, the people met, some of whom I still stay in touch with. It was sold to Central Maine Power sometime after I left Maine for college. When I went back to look, there was nothing but a bunch of tree debris from clearcutting. I have very few pictures of Camp Wakonda and what I do have came from someone else.
These are places I remember, and there are probably more. Seems you can't live a life without a good portion of your past getting erased over time. I guess that's why there are historians.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)