I need a break while I focus on the new job and regain some sense of balance. I will be back, so keep your hands off my stuff!
While I’m gone, feel free to browse through the archives… there may (or may not) be a secret treasure map encoded in previous posts… anything is possible…
I usually lean towards descriptive writing more than prescriptive writing. I feel more comfortable describing my views and experiences than I do trying to prescribe a path for others.
But some blog articles I’ve read in the last months have made me wonder if I should try a prescriptive approach. This is something new for me, and I already sense a challenging path. How likely is it that someone who would benefit will read such a post, and how likely is it they would follow any prescription I might offer? And of course, what makes me think I can offer any prescription for another person’s life?
In any event, for whatever it’s worth, this prescription is labeled for those who feel dissatisfied with life, who feel a gap between what is and what they feel ought to be.
This seems to be my week for having blog contests catch my attention. Last Saturday the Count of Three captured me, and today it’s the Photo Challenge from WordPress.
I’m not normally a photographer, so I don’t usually pay much attention to that Challenge, but this week’s reminded me of a photo I’ve been looking for an excuse to use.
The Challenge read:
SILHOUETTE. The proper definition of a silhouette is “the outline of a body viewed as circumscribing a mass.” In photography, often we achieve that effect by putting light behind the object whose silhouette we want to capture, effectively darkening out the features of the subject instead of highlighting them.
And I immediately thought of this (admittedly a bit of a gag entry):
One of the things that drives this blog and informs its content is that I have a sense of being on the downward part of the hill.
The hill in question being the one they say you’re over when you’re past your prime. Mind you, I’m not far over it, but the path definitely leads downwards these days. As a great poem puts it in another context, “But at my back I always hear, Time’s winged chariot hurrying near.“
[That poem, by the way, is a hoot. It’s about an 17th century guy giving his gal the old line: ‘Time is short, let’s get it on, baby!’ And you gotta love a poem with the couplet, “The grave’s a fine and private place, But none, I think, do there embrace.“]
Today’s date, 10/11/12, is one of those dates that’s numerically fun. (For my European friends, I guess it was yesterday.) And, of course, in one month and one day, we’ll have the last “golden date” of this century, 12/12/12.
But for me, October 11th is a sad day, a day of mourning. Eight years ago today, in 2004, my dog — who brought me as close as I have ever come to having my own child — took her last breath. Her name was Samantha; she was only ten.
That she died a couple of years after we moved into a new place I’d bought in part to provide an ideal home for her was tough. That she died a bit over a year after my divorce was final was really tough. That she died only months after the first time my job at The Company was eliminated and I had found a new position two days before my end date was just icing on a shit cake.
Today I choose to commemorate her passing by writing about the perfect day.
Today, of course, is the last day of September. For a variety of reasons, it’s always been one of my favorite months, and it’s always bugged me slightly that September — having only 30 days — is one of the short-changed months. August around here is usually hot, muggy and buggy, so I’d be fine with Congress passing a law to give one of August’s days to September.
And pity poor February! Not only stuck with being the shortest month (a month frequently dark and very cold), but saddled with the responsibility of having to keep an eye on the calendar to even know how many days it has!
Perhaps Congress could also declare February to be National February Month!
I wrote in last night’s post that I had a bet riding on today’s college football game between the Minnesota Gophers and the Iowa Hawkeyes. That’s particularly weird, since: (a) I generally never gamble, especially on sports; (2) when it comes to football, I’m pretty much a “Superbowl-only” kind of guy; and (iii) I know nothing about college football [apparently a bronze pig, named Floyd, is involved somehow].
Well, weak from the week, I crashed on the couch all morning and missed most of the game. But I did wake up in time to catch the final 58 seconds (actually a rather long time in football). Final score: Minnesota 13, Iowa 31. That means my former boss and I get beer! [Yes, that’s right, I was betting on Iowa.]
Last night I mentioned it was a long story that I’d tell you later. What I didn’t mention was that it involves a great Humphrey Bogart movie, rotary phones, a prolonged discussion of point spreads and a parody of a famous quote.
It’s a crisp, cool, sunny Sunday, and the Twins just beat the Tigers 10-4 in the first game of what will be a double-header today. (The second game is to make up from being rained out Friday evening.) I’m not pinning high hopes of their winning both games, but they have won both games of the two double-headers played so far this year. It would be lovely if they did win tonight.
On the other hand, that would put the Tigers one more game away from taking the White Sox, and — as do all Twins fans — I hate those pale hose. On the other other hand, even if the Sox do take the pennant, they’ll likely get creamed by the Rangers or Yankees.
(I’m still holding hope the Orioles will take the Yankees. Anyone who’s not an actual Yankee fan hates those pin-stripe guys. “Best baseball team money can buy,” is not a compliment!)
But on this lovely Sunday, it’s awards, not baseball, that I want to write about.
This is a post I have mixed feelings about writing. One purpose this blog serves is to document my life and me. It’s a way of leaving something behind, of scrawling, “Kilroy was here,” on the walls of the interweb. There are no children to carry on a legacy, so this is what I have.
If I am to do that honestly, it means writing about the dark, hard stuff as well as the fun, light stuff. I’ve thought about writing this post for a while, but was looking for the right time (which, of course, is just a delaying tactic). Yesterday I mentioned yet another moment of life synchronicity. To the extent I believe the universe “tells” me anything, it’s not hard to imagine it’s suggesting that I post this now.
I’ve been wanting to get back to the drier, more technical stuff, but I’m finding it a challenge to write. There’s research required for one thing, double-checking facts, and sometimes diagrams to find or create. Writing technical material in a way that’s interesting and accessible is tough! The personal stuff flows much more readily. (And doesn’t require the fact-checking!)
So this post is about my alter-ego: Quasimodo.
(Not feelin’ like writt’n today. Logos con carne will return anon.)
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