Like the Pine Trees Lining the Winding Road

A friend told me that she once felt like she was getting odd looks from people in her local grocery store. After she got home she realized that she still had a button on her lapel that she had borrowed earlier in the day. It said:

I’m not very good with names. Can I just call you shithead?

I’ve always thought it pretentious when grown men say, “Mr. Smith was my father. Call me Bill.” Puh-leeze. Grow up. Of course, in my profession I had to get used to being called Mr. VanSant [or Mr. V or more and more often just Mister...] when I was still in my early twenties.

One of my friends in high school and I called each other by our first names even though we both normally used our middle names. Other than that I rarely use my first name except for legal stuff — contracts, insurance, and such. When I go for physical therapy on my shoulder they call me by my first name. [Yeah. Still going to TP twice a week. 'Sucks. But my shoulder is improving.] When I started there I naively hoped it would be for just a few weeks. Since they needed my first name for the insurance claims I just let them call me that during treatment too. Even though this has gone on much longer than I anticipated, I don’t ask them to use my middle name. They’re likable people, of course, but I hope that soon I’ll never have to see them again.

Most of the time I use my middle name. Well, the first syllable of it anyway. People rarely use my full middle name. [I don't know why, but women are much more likely to call me Timothy than men are.] When I was very young my family called me Timmy, but thankfully I outgrew that.

Online I am usually ~Tim or DigiTim, but I have a couple aliases. Having multiple identities online seems pretty common as does wanting to keep them separate. On FaceBook recently one of my college roommates referred to me by the nickname I used back then. I quit using that nickname after college, but to the people that knew me then it has stuck. I find that oddly reassuring — as though it validates who I was.

I’m not very good at remembering other people’s names. Maybe I have too many of my own?

Meaning Wanted

I am a fan of some of the shows on the USA cable TV network. I am not a fan of their various “Characters” promotions. One of them in particular gets me every time I hear it.

The 2009 Character Approved winner for music is hip-hop artist Lupe Fiasco. In the spot he says,

I try to write about meaningful things… drug abuse, skateboards, giant robots….

I freely [and quickly] admit that I am not a fan of rap or hip-hop. To be fair, I’m not exactly in the target demographic for rappers, so maybe I’m just not supposed to get it. Does he really think that drug abuse, skateboards, and giant robots are all meaningful things? Equally meaningful? Or is he being ironic and I’m just being too literal?

Not that I care.

Nor should you.

Bright Eyes

Confucius [may have] said:

Real knowledge is to know the extent of one’s ignorance.

I sometimes see it translated as:

Wisdom is knowing how much you don’t know.

I was in elementary school when I got glasses for the first time. I was a little near-sighted. Until I put those glasses on I was completely ignorant of the fact that other people saw things that I could not see. Glasses made me aware of my ignorance. Glasses gave me knowledge, if not wisdom.

As I aged there were a few times when my eyesight deteriorated enough to require a new prescription. Usually these were slight changes and until I got the new prescription I wasn’t really aware that I needed it. I didn’t know how much I didn’t know.

Eventually, as for most people, even my near vision got worse. I found it paradoxical that when I was wearing my glasses I had to take them off to read, yet when I had my contacts in I needed reading glasses. But I knew that I was unable to see things that I used to be able to see. Even before I got a new prescription I knew how much I didn’t know.

Or did I? It occurred to me recently that when I have a new prescription I see as well as I ever have. But I find it easy to imagine that there are people that see better than I ever have or ever will. There is no way I can really know for sure. Is knowing what I can’t know the same as knowing what I don’t know? If so, does that mean that doubt is the same as wisdom?

Clearly, I can’t see the difference.

Who Does Run the World?

A colleague suggested today that we could earn money by writing a Guide to Cell Phone Etiquette. “We only need one page,” I said:

Turn the damn thing off!

I know, however, that there is no money to be made in writing such a guide. Who would buy it?

Besides, it’s not simply a matter of providing rules of etiquette. Our school has a policy that student’s phones must be turned off and put away during class. Students know the rules. Do you think that stops them?

Oh, if only it were this easy….

RRR: The Grand Disillusion v2.0

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.
I posted a version of this on 9 June 2005, but I have added some new material for this post. ~Tim

What we find precious are common materials forged in uncommon circumstances. Rubies are aluminum oxide, pearls are calcium carbonate, diamonds are carbon. Aluminum, oxygen, calcium, carbon. All so very common. As are we.

Cut: Most gemstones are not very pretty when they are pulled from the earth. It takes an expert’s eye to see the potential within. The careful cutting away of waste and polishing leads to fire and brilliance. We all start out like diamonds in the rough. But we have to develop our own facets. Forgive me for still being a little rough. Pearls are beautiful when we find them, but they are the result of the oyster trying to protect itself from some irritation like a microscopic intruder or parasite. We take irritations and turn them into wars. I feel so evolved.

I’m just an old chunk of coal
But I’m gonna be a diamond some day
I’m gonna glow and grow
‘Til I’m so blue pure perfect

Color: The color differences in gems can be so subtle that they are imperceptible except when compared side-by-side with another stone. We naturally make comparisons. [One of these things is not like the other....] We are alike, but not the same. And if you look closer, I am not exactly what you thought I was. As I get to know you better, as I look closer, you are not exactly what I thought you were either. We may look at life through rose-colored glasses or spend our nights feeling blue. But we need to remember that our color comes from the inside, not the outside.

I’m gonna put a smile on everybody’s face
I’m gonna kneel and pray everyday
Lest I should become vain along the way
I’m just an old chunk of coal, now Lord
But I’m gonna be a diamond some day

Clarity: Every gem has imperfections. That’s largely what makes them unique. Our flaws may be minor surface blemishes or fractures hidden deep within, but we all have them. We cheat on our spouses, we abuse our children, we lie to our families, we betray our friends, we fight with our neighbors, we steal from strangers, we hate ourselves. But put us in the right light and none of that is visible. We choose our light to hide our flaws.

I’m gonna learn the best way to walk
I’m gonna search and find a better way to talk
I’m gonna spit and polish my old rough-edged self
Til I get rid of every single flaw

Carat: The mass of gems is measured in carats and a paragon is a flawless diamond of at least 100 carats. A paragon is a model of excellence or perfection. A “paragon of virtue” is the common phrase we use to describe people we admire. Can we be virtuous and yet not flawless? How can we be anything else? The carat [spelled karat in the U.S. and Canada] is also the measure of purity of gold. Pure gold does not exist in nature. Even the highest purity refined gold may be only 99% pure. I am considerably less pure, but then I never claimed to be very refined either….

I’m gonna be the World’s best friend
I’m gonna go around shaking everybody’s hand
Hey, I’m gonna be the cotton-pickin’ Rage of the Age
I’m gonna be a diamond some day

Setting: Gemstones are beautiful in themselves, but in the context of a ring or necklace that beauty can be multiplied. The right setting enhances our appearance, the wrong one diminishes it. In our blogs, in our lives, we choose our surroundings and what to display. Some of us choose to display our faults and rough edges. Some of us give hints and glimpses. Some of us hide all but a facet or two.

Sometimes I am disappointed when I see a flaw in someone I admire and respect. Usually I am dismayed when I see the flaws in myself. We are not perfect, but that’s what makes us unique and beautiful. Besides, we are all still works in progress.

RRR: There’s an Animal in My House

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.
This was originally posted on 2 May 2005 ~Tim

There’s an animal in my house.
Sometimes
it’s cute and cuddly and sweet,
warm and fuzzy and snuggly,
cozy, comfy, endearing,
hands that hold,
arms that embrace.

There’s an animal in my house.
Sometimes
it’s furry and dirty and smelly,
cold and creepy and crawly,
slimey, slithery, sneaky,
with claws and fangs and horns,
it kicks and scratches,
bites and gores.

There’s an animal in my house.
Sometimes
it’s me.

Time Goes By Like Hurricanes and Faster Things

How are you?

When we say that as a greeting we usually don’t really want to know. Especially if you are not doing well. Save the laundry list of aches and pains, troubles and sorrows for your doctor, okay? Here’s a dime prepaid phone card, call someone who cares.

I never listen to talk radio. By coincidence though when flipping through channels recently I heard someone proclaiming that we should just stop using the phrase as a greeting. Dude, get over it.

Many years ago a friend told me about a friend of his who always answered “How are you?” with “Great!” People loved hearing that. Because they really didn’t want to know.

I know a man who always answers “How are you?” with “How would I know?” Not an answer people expect. But he’s into existential crap.

For months I have had two standard answers to that question. If it’s very early in the morning I might say, “It’s too early to tell.” Because, you know, it’s early in the day and I usually get a chuckle in response. My way of spreading a teeny tiny bit of sunshine. Most of the time though I say, “Just peachy!” Because I can’t bring myself to say “Great!”

I’ve said it so much in the last few months that I’ve begun to look for subliminal messages in it. [Is my unconscious trying to tell me something?] A peach is fuzzy. Do I feel fuzzy? Yes, but not in a warm and fuzzy way. Maybe more hazy. No, peaches aren’t hazy. A peach pit is a stone. [She said I have a heart of stone, but she took me for granite....] I am not stoned. [Pretty sure of that, anyway, but how would I know?]

No, peachy is just my avatar for a laundry list of aches and pains, troubles and sorrows that I know you don’t want to hear. Or, at any rate, that I don’t want to have to recite. ‘Cause I’m doin’ great!

Crap^TM

I was indirectly privy to this exchange:

Fast food worker after removing an entree from an oven and dropping it on the floor — “How did that happen?”
Her supervisor — “I don’t have time to explain gravity to you, honey.”

There is an ad (or maybe a PSA) soliciting blood donations running on radio that begins with:

“It’s been said that it is as blessed to give than to receive….”

If I hear it again they can collect from my bleeding ears. The incongruity of “as” and “than” just really irritates me.

I recently received a complimentary first issue of a magazine for “a reinvented old-world style barber shop franchise.” I have no idea how I got on their mailing list. This barber club “caters to discerning gentlemen looking for a fine grooming experience with the old-world charm of your father’s barber shop. Offering the finest in haircuts for men, the lost art of straight-razor shaves, and a modern selection of grooming products….” They have obviously never met me.

My initial reaction was “snobs!” and I nearly tossed it without even opening it. But I was sitting on the toilet anyway and what better place to read crap? some perverse curiosity drew me in. Apparently their marketing strategy involves trademarking just about every other word they print. [So it isn't just crap, it's Crap^TM!] Misspelling one the trademarks in a rather prominent spot does nothing to stir my confidence in the business or the people behind it. The articles were inane and contained logical inconsistencies.

Reading was, in short, a waste of my time. And now I’ve wasted yours.

Sorry^TM.

Drums Keep Pounding a Rhythm to the Brain

While writing yesterday’s post it occurred to me that I don’t think anyone has ever made a biopic of The Big Bopper. [A search of IMDB didn't turn up any.] There was The Buddy Holly Story and La Bamba, but poor J.P. Richardson only gets bit parts in other people’s films. I wonder why that is.

It also occurred to me [not while writing yesterday's post, but it fits nicely] that there have been some good films about wannabe musicians — proof, perhaps, that the music never died. Anyway, threee of my favorites are:

The Commitments — A sort of misfit group from Dublin, Ireland form a soul band. Of course. I thought they did a good job of showing how their performing skills improved over time. And lead vocalist Andrew Strong was not yet 18 years old when the film was released, but damn he’s got pipes. I also enjoyed the debate over naming the band with exchanges like this:

Jimmy Rabbitte: What do you call yourselves?
Derek: “And And And.”
Jimmy Rabbitte: “And And fuckin’ And?”
Derek: Well, Ray’s thinking of putting an exclamation mark after the second “and.” Says it’d look deadly on the posters.
Jimmy Rabbitte: Psshh…
Outspan Foster: You don’t like it? You think it should go at the end?
Jimmy Rabbitte: I think it should go up his arse.
Outspan Foster: Well, we’re not married to it.

That Thing You Do! — Pretty typical Hollywood stuff but I thought Tom Everett Scott showed real charm in his role and the film seemed a credible reflection of the early 60′s Philadelphia music scene. Tom Hanks wrote, directed, and acted in the film and did a fair job in all. This band also struggled with finding a name, but I’ll spare you quoting their exchanges. [And see? I didn't even mention that Rita Wilson, Charlize Theron, and Liv Tyler are in it!]

Once — I love this film! And it brings us back to Dublin, Ireland for the setting with Glen Hansard who played in The Commitments stepping up to a lead role. Markéta Irglová plays the other lead and the two have great chemistry. Their musicianship is first-rate too. This was an independent film and avoided the “Hollywood ending.”

February Made Me Shiver

Early in the morning on this day fifty years ago a small four-passenger airplane took off from the Mason City airport in Iowa and then crashed in a corn field. This was what Don McLean called “The Day the Music Died” in his 1971 song American Pie. But while we can only imagine what great music we lost in the deaths of Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens, and J.P. “The Big Bopper” Richardson, the music seems to have lived and thrived in the meantime.

[I nearly titled this post with a quote from Monty Python and the Holy Grail -- "'Ere, he says he's not dead." -- but I was afraid that since four people (the three musicians and the pilot) actually did die it might be misconstrued. Or just in poor taste. So I pulled a line from American Pie that seems to fit better anyway....]