I finally got around to reading North Toward Home by Willie Morris. I am not quite finished but he has made it to New York, the final section of the book. Morris had an incredible intellect and talent. I am struck by the similarity in writing and worldview between Morris and Hunter S. Thompson. Morris is understated and Thompson overstated, but they are very similar at the core. I think that surely they must have crossed paths.
I love hanging out at the coffee shop on game days. Today is particularly entertaining with the LSU fans in town and the ideal weather. My perception is aided by my taking of a Mucinex-D which effects me to the point where I might as well be tripping on Windowpane Acid.
We saw Tower Heist last night and I haven't seen a movie I disliked more in a long time. Eddie Murphy practically reprised his role of Billy Ray Valentine from Trading Places. What a waste of talent that film is. The audience was as bad as the movie and I felt the vibes when we entered the theatre. There was a threesome sitting to the left front of us. The man got into it with the middle woman half way through the film and he left and came back several times, talking loudly and making vague threats. They had huge buckets of popcorn and heavy coats and I knew they were going to be trouble. Behind us was a young philosopher who commented to his girlfriend all through the movie and periodically bumped his foot into the back of my chair. I managed to restrain myself but it took a toll. The people to the right front of us reeked of cigarette smoke and Shelly had to use her inhaler before we even got out of the previews. It was a terrible audience, the worse one I have suffered through in a long time and I expect the whole experience took 10-15 days off my life.
We are going to visit a Sunday School class tomorrow. This will be the first time I have ever visited a Sunday School as one-half of a couple. I am looking for religious; I'm sick of spiritual.
I was just speaking to a man from the coffee shop, another regular. Kind of an odd ball like me. We were talking about what we are reading etc. and as he started listing off the publications that he reads regularly I literally saw the horns sprouting up out of his head. Intelligence is not a virtue; it took me a long time to realize that.
I have come to the conclusion that I am not nearly as smart as I thought I was, that I am genetically less-than-average physically, and that I am sorely lacking in emotional maturity. Not only am I inferior intellectually, physically, and emotionally but I am also poorly educated and a classic underachiever. Fortunately, I have an elaborate and battle-tested denial mechanism that is second to no one's and this enables me to live in a virtual fantasy world where none of that is relevant.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
I'm a Runner
I am a runner...again. In 2001, I decided I was going to run a marathon and I started running with an eye toward that goal. I have always been somewhat athletic but in the darker days, months, and years of my young adulthood, I had a hard time maintaining an exercise program. In 1993, at 33 years old, I went off to Army Basic Training because, for one reason, I wanted to get back into shape and, for another reason, I figured it was smarter for me to get paid to get away from the juice for a few months rather than to pay someone for that privilege. The point is, I've always aspired to fitness even when the demons conspired against me.
So I was going to run a marathon, but I didn't, not in 2001. In 2001, I found out how running in the wrong kind of shoes can cause injury and how running on a steeply slanted road can hurt you on longer runs and how heat effects me when I run and a lot of stuff like that. I kept getting injured and canceling races until I finally just stopped in December and took it easy for a month. Toward the end of the month, I recommitted.
In January, 2002 I started running consistently and building up my mileage slowly. I figured out the right shoes and training gear. I added track workouts and tempo runs to my weekly long runs. I designed training plans and logged my runs online. In July, I started driving to Memphis to compete in the Memphis Runners Track Club race series that goes from July through November and I ran the race-a-month required. We started with a 5k in Overton Park and ended with a half-marathon on Singleton Parkway, going up in race distance each month. On December 7, 2002, a few weeks after celebrating my sixth year of sobriety, I stood at the starting line of the Rocket City Marathon in Huntsville, Alabama.
Despite the bitter cold and strong winds, I had one of the most perfect moments of my life while standing at that start line. It came to me that there was nowhere in the world I would rather be at that moment than right where I was. For that moment, I could not improve on my circumstances. I was blinking back tears when the gun went off. Every step after 20 miles was a new record for me and although I went out a little too fast, all in all, the race went well.
In 2003, I ran the New York City Marathon and the next year, the Marine Corp in D.C. I ran 1800-2000 miles a year during those years and did a lot of shorter races. In 2007 I did a good bit of trail running before doing the Stump Jump 50k, a trail race on Signal Mountain in Chattanooga,TN and the only race I have done that is longer than a marathon. A month after Stump Jump, I completed my seventh and final marathon,the Flying Monkey Marathon at Percy Warner Park in Nashville, TN. Although I intended to run a marathon a year in law school, I just didn't make it to the line.
I got in great running shape in my second year of law school in 2009 and I have no doubt I could have PRed at the marathon distance at the end of the year. But, I had some nagging injuries and just not enough time to run as long in training as is required to get where I want to get before I commit to a marathon. See, I am not interested in just "doing" marathons; I like to run marathons as fast as I can. And "as fast as I can" is precisely what I mean. Genetically, I am not set-up to be a front pack runner. I accepted that long ago and I now compete against myself, sometimes using other runners as motivation. If I don't reasonably feel ready to run as fast as my ability will let me, I don't line-up. While in law school, for a variety of reasons, I just couldn't get there. I did run three half-marathons in 2010, however, before finally slacking off.
Now I am about twenty-twenty five pounds heavier than my best running shape. Not all of my gain is fat, there is some muscle under there because I have continued to mess with kettle bells and push-ups along with the occasional run or elliptical workout. Regardless, I am heavier and I feel it when I run. I am a good minute a mile slower on my easy runs and they are not all that easy. This week, though, I started to feel a little spark on my runs. I started to feel like I could maybe crank it up if I wanted to. I wasn't feeling that at all for awhile. This week I will run 22 miles total and next week I will go to 25 assuming there are no issues. I run early in the morning and I have been looking forward to getting out there for the first time in a long time. There have been cool mornings lately and there are cooler days coming. It won't be long before the tights and gloves come out - My favorite time of the year.
I'm going to do 6ish in the a.m. and I am looking forward to it. I'll start at the Square and head over to Molly Barr for some hills and then maybe run up University to Fraternity Row. I like running across the campus on early mornings and especially on weekend mornings. Tour de Ole Miss. I'll run down the hill by the baseball field and turn up Old Taylor and back up the hill to Faulkner's house. It will be flat after that and I'll work my way back toward the Square, glide by the coffee shop (I always speed up when I run by the coffee shop) and finish at the Courthouse. My third week back will be in the books and by tomorrow night I will be daydreaming about Monday morning.
So I was going to run a marathon, but I didn't, not in 2001. In 2001, I found out how running in the wrong kind of shoes can cause injury and how running on a steeply slanted road can hurt you on longer runs and how heat effects me when I run and a lot of stuff like that. I kept getting injured and canceling races until I finally just stopped in December and took it easy for a month. Toward the end of the month, I recommitted.
In January, 2002 I started running consistently and building up my mileage slowly. I figured out the right shoes and training gear. I added track workouts and tempo runs to my weekly long runs. I designed training plans and logged my runs online. In July, I started driving to Memphis to compete in the Memphis Runners Track Club race series that goes from July through November and I ran the race-a-month required. We started with a 5k in Overton Park and ended with a half-marathon on Singleton Parkway, going up in race distance each month. On December 7, 2002, a few weeks after celebrating my sixth year of sobriety, I stood at the starting line of the Rocket City Marathon in Huntsville, Alabama.
Despite the bitter cold and strong winds, I had one of the most perfect moments of my life while standing at that start line. It came to me that there was nowhere in the world I would rather be at that moment than right where I was. For that moment, I could not improve on my circumstances. I was blinking back tears when the gun went off. Every step after 20 miles was a new record for me and although I went out a little too fast, all in all, the race went well.
In 2003, I ran the New York City Marathon and the next year, the Marine Corp in D.C. I ran 1800-2000 miles a year during those years and did a lot of shorter races. In 2007 I did a good bit of trail running before doing the Stump Jump 50k, a trail race on Signal Mountain in Chattanooga,TN and the only race I have done that is longer than a marathon. A month after Stump Jump, I completed my seventh and final marathon,the Flying Monkey Marathon at Percy Warner Park in Nashville, TN. Although I intended to run a marathon a year in law school, I just didn't make it to the line.
I got in great running shape in my second year of law school in 2009 and I have no doubt I could have PRed at the marathon distance at the end of the year. But, I had some nagging injuries and just not enough time to run as long in training as is required to get where I want to get before I commit to a marathon. See, I am not interested in just "doing" marathons; I like to run marathons as fast as I can. And "as fast as I can" is precisely what I mean. Genetically, I am not set-up to be a front pack runner. I accepted that long ago and I now compete against myself, sometimes using other runners as motivation. If I don't reasonably feel ready to run as fast as my ability will let me, I don't line-up. While in law school, for a variety of reasons, I just couldn't get there. I did run three half-marathons in 2010, however, before finally slacking off.
Now I am about twenty-twenty five pounds heavier than my best running shape. Not all of my gain is fat, there is some muscle under there because I have continued to mess with kettle bells and push-ups along with the occasional run or elliptical workout. Regardless, I am heavier and I feel it when I run. I am a good minute a mile slower on my easy runs and they are not all that easy. This week, though, I started to feel a little spark on my runs. I started to feel like I could maybe crank it up if I wanted to. I wasn't feeling that at all for awhile. This week I will run 22 miles total and next week I will go to 25 assuming there are no issues. I run early in the morning and I have been looking forward to getting out there for the first time in a long time. There have been cool mornings lately and there are cooler days coming. It won't be long before the tights and gloves come out - My favorite time of the year.
I'm going to do 6ish in the a.m. and I am looking forward to it. I'll start at the Square and head over to Molly Barr for some hills and then maybe run up University to Fraternity Row. I like running across the campus on early mornings and especially on weekend mornings. Tour de Ole Miss. I'll run down the hill by the baseball field and turn up Old Taylor and back up the hill to Faulkner's house. It will be flat after that and I'll work my way back toward the Square, glide by the coffee shop (I always speed up when I run by the coffee shop) and finish at the Courthouse. My third week back will be in the books and by tomorrow night I will be daydreaming about Monday morning.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
I Opened An Office
I opened an office. The truth is, this was not my first choice. I intended to work for someone, hopefully to work for someone or some organization that would provide me with health benefits, mentoring, etc. but this did not happen. For a variety of reasons this didn't happen although I was in the running for several of these situations. I have a sneaking suspicion that this is what was supposed to happen all along.
The search for an office was painless enough and I ended up coming back a week later and renting the first office I had looked at. My new office is in a recently renovated office building that was previously a funeral home, a fact that I find oddly comforting. It's on the main Oxford thoroughfare and within two blocks of four of the courts in which I hope to focus my practice. I have a receptionist on weekdays, a nice phone system, access to print-fax-copy services, and a lovely conference room at my disposal.
I worked the rental of a nice set of office furniture, abandoned by some unfortunate entrepreneur, into my lease agreement. I am steadily adding supplies to my space and enjoying this. I have a Yellow Book ad in process and I am in various stages of negotiation with local papers regarding the getting of my name out. My number one concern now, however, is the acquisition of an appropriate hat rack. It will rarely hold hats but I will need it to hold jackets and ties and possibly the occasional umbrella. It has to be the right kind of hat rack, not just any old rack will do. Once the hat rack is in place, perfectly in place, I will deem myself ready for whatever the Justice Gods send my way.
I feel like an eleven year old boy walking into the carnival.
The search for an office was painless enough and I ended up coming back a week later and renting the first office I had looked at. My new office is in a recently renovated office building that was previously a funeral home, a fact that I find oddly comforting. It's on the main Oxford thoroughfare and within two blocks of four of the courts in which I hope to focus my practice. I have a receptionist on weekdays, a nice phone system, access to print-fax-copy services, and a lovely conference room at my disposal.
I worked the rental of a nice set of office furniture, abandoned by some unfortunate entrepreneur, into my lease agreement. I am steadily adding supplies to my space and enjoying this. I have a Yellow Book ad in process and I am in various stages of negotiation with local papers regarding the getting of my name out. My number one concern now, however, is the acquisition of an appropriate hat rack. It will rarely hold hats but I will need it to hold jackets and ties and possibly the occasional umbrella. It has to be the right kind of hat rack, not just any old rack will do. Once the hat rack is in place, perfectly in place, I will deem myself ready for whatever the Justice Gods send my way.
I feel like an eleven year old boy walking into the carnival.
Monday, September 5, 2011
A Child Converts to Infinity
In spite of the horror, he can not turn away as the funnel forms over the drain.
He stays and watches every night.
Sliding the towel with his feet, he moves
to the sink where he stops and stills,
staring intently at the cup.
On the cup is a profile of a wolf who drinks
from a cup with the same profile.
And on and on; it never stops.
The euphoria rises as he sees forever,
calmly folding within himself,
certain that there can be no end.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Poems A Dead Boy Wrote
Last night was the final night of the Theatre Oxford production of A Streetcar Named Desire and Shelly and I were in attendance. The babysitter arrived on cue at 6:15, giving us time to dine at Thai restaurant, Rice & Spice, one of our favorite spots. I had the Red Curry with Tofu and my date had Pad Thai with Shrimp. The first time I had Tofu, I was living in Martin, TN and in the same apartment building as a Japanese woman who occasionally made Won-Ton stuffed with Tofu along with some kind of Asian soup with the spongy curd. She may have been Chinese...or Korean. Anyway, I recognized the coolness factor of Tofu immediately and about once every 10 years, when I am at my most fraudulently hip (such as when attending a local theatre production), I order something with Tofu. Once every 10 years, I regret it.
The play started 10 minutes late and ran on about an hour too long. Some of the blame for this must go to Tennessee Williams, the author whose Columbus, MS childhood porch I once sat upon, but most I assign to me, for being old and tired. The actor (Alice Walker) who played Blanche DuBois did a fabulous job and the "Stella! Stella" of the earnest thespian (Gregory Earnest) with the impossible task of following Brando, was delivered admirably. I haven't seen or read Streetcar in many years and I had forgotten how beautifully it is written. Or maybe I am better able to appreciate it now that I am long of tooth and beaten.
There are many memorable lines in the play but my favorite is Blanche's description of the yellowed letters kept in her trunk as "Poems a dead boy wrote." I could live a whole year of my life powered merely on the beauty of that description. As a matter of fact, I believe I will.
The play started 10 minutes late and ran on about an hour too long. Some of the blame for this must go to Tennessee Williams, the author whose Columbus, MS childhood porch I once sat upon, but most I assign to me, for being old and tired. The actor (Alice Walker) who played Blanche DuBois did a fabulous job and the "Stella! Stella" of the earnest thespian (Gregory Earnest) with the impossible task of following Brando, was delivered admirably. I haven't seen or read Streetcar in many years and I had forgotten how beautifully it is written. Or maybe I am better able to appreciate it now that I am long of tooth and beaten.
There are many memorable lines in the play but my favorite is Blanche's description of the yellowed letters kept in her trunk as "Poems a dead boy wrote." I could live a whole year of my life powered merely on the beauty of that description. As a matter of fact, I believe I will.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Move In Day in Oxford
Oxford has been filling up with people all week and today the crowd is peaking. Yesterday at lunch, there were no parking places at the University Ave. Newk's and today it is like that all over town. There are small packs of families prowling the sidewalks. Many are of the conventional variety - husband and wife with a college age child and another younger child or two. Others with just one parent, usually the Mother, or maybe just with the one child. I wonder if they are the only child.
My daughter is driving from Humboldt with a friend and this will be, by far, the longest distance she has ever driven. They will stay until Sunday. This should be a good weekend for them with all the energy and excitement. We will go out to dinner on their arrival and be prominently out and about the remainder of the weekend. Breakfast at Big Bad Breakfast at some point; The Journey on Sunday morning. Hopefully the weekend will help motivate them for their respective senior years in high school.
I've had an interesting couple of weeks. I spent three nights in the Smoky Mountains (see prior post), attended Shelly's 20th high school reunion (more later), took a day trip to West Tennessee to appraise the rental house my renters ran out on (She praised God on Facebook all the while), and aided in lots of Nicolas's activities. Soccer practice, Tae Kwon Do, Allergy shots....I took him to get a shot yesterday and he informed the nurse that he had just completed his 11th day of First Grade. On the job front, I spent several days putting together a packet for a job at the University and then the job was abruptly pulled from the website today as I was about to send it all in. It appears they put it up the mandatory minimum; the fix was in as it so often is.
On the other hand, I have been hired to do some contract work for a criminal defense attorney who knows his stuff. I intended to approach him but he beat me to it and came to me instead. We will be working on a post-conviction appeal which will probably necessitate my visit with our client in prison. I have a feeling about this position and where it might lead. That is, other than prison, where it might lead.
A larger pack just walked by the window of the coffee shop. Four children in all, three boys and a girl, with the parents walking behind. It looks like big sister will be staying in town. The father, like so many of the fathers of the young girls, looks tense but resolved. That's a look that I understand.
My daughter is driving from Humboldt with a friend and this will be, by far, the longest distance she has ever driven. They will stay until Sunday. This should be a good weekend for them with all the energy and excitement. We will go out to dinner on their arrival and be prominently out and about the remainder of the weekend. Breakfast at Big Bad Breakfast at some point; The Journey on Sunday morning. Hopefully the weekend will help motivate them for their respective senior years in high school.
I've had an interesting couple of weeks. I spent three nights in the Smoky Mountains (see prior post), attended Shelly's 20th high school reunion (more later), took a day trip to West Tennessee to appraise the rental house my renters ran out on (She praised God on Facebook all the while), and aided in lots of Nicolas's activities. Soccer practice, Tae Kwon Do, Allergy shots....I took him to get a shot yesterday and he informed the nurse that he had just completed his 11th day of First Grade. On the job front, I spent several days putting together a packet for a job at the University and then the job was abruptly pulled from the website today as I was about to send it all in. It appears they put it up the mandatory minimum; the fix was in as it so often is.
On the other hand, I have been hired to do some contract work for a criminal defense attorney who knows his stuff. I intended to approach him but he beat me to it and came to me instead. We will be working on a post-conviction appeal which will probably necessitate my visit with our client in prison. I have a feeling about this position and where it might lead. That is, other than prison, where it might lead.
A larger pack just walked by the window of the coffee shop. Four children in all, three boys and a girl, with the parents walking behind. It looks like big sister will be staying in town. The father, like so many of the fathers of the young girls, looks tense but resolved. That's a look that I understand.
Friday, August 12, 2011
Gatlinburg on Moonshine.
There were five canines and nine humans already assembled at the chalet before I made my arrival. After the sickening rebound from the intense adrenaline rush of the bear attack hit us, we decided to stay in for the evening. We sent out for Local Organic and Sustainable Black Bear barbeque and Ole Smoky Moonshine and feasted mountain warrior style until we collapsed on the stairway, porch, and on and under the kitchen table, amongst several other locations sprinkled in and around the chalet and adjoining grounds.. The wildest dog, Maggie, got into the Black Bear BBQ, caught a scent of the marauders, and, overcome with blood lust, leaped off the back patio in the midst of the celebration. The patio was at least 25 feet off the ground but she hit the ground running and we heard her frantic barking in the distance throughout the evening.
On Wednesday morning we called the Game and Fish Commission on the bears and headed up the mountain to commune with nature at the Chimney's Picnic Area. We needed two picnic tables but we couldn't find two together in the whole picnic area. We found one with a fairly vulnerable looking bunch on the adjacent table and then we broke out the shine and got busy. Thirty minutes later there was no sign of the interlopers so we spread out like royalty. We had Brazilian Steak, Paraguayan Corn on the Cob, and Giant Irish Potatoes smothered in Lamb Butter with plenty of Organic and Sustainable Sea Salt to go around. It was perfect. Around nightfall, several car loads of Park Rangers (Not that many, the poor guys are driving Prius') descended on us and they suggested we leave. We were out of hooch anyway so we saddled up the Palomino and headed into town.
Ole Smoky Moonshine opened sometime between 2007, when Zoe and I last visited the strip in Gatlinburg, and last Tuesday when they loaded up on Clear in anticipation of my visit. The moonshine is distilled in an open area where you can see the vats and stills through genuine screens. There are huge padlocks on the entrance doors and snipers overhead. They have flavors such as peach, cherry, and apple and then the two I like, the two that will get right on down there and get the job done - Clear and Smoky. They have a tasting booth but I skipped that part and went right for the jars. I have a hazy memory of riding up the ski-slope beside a giant, lip-stick-smeared, stuffed black bear. Toward the end, I remember seeing my and Butch's reflection in the plate glass window of Ripley's Believe or Not as we walked by. I had on full Indian regalia and he was wearing nothing but motorcycle chaps and a coon-skin hat. The women had abandoned us long before and the young adults had split off for the Hard Rock Cafe "when we got that gleam in our eyes." I came to before sunrise on a bench outside the Aquarium with a recently diceased Sting-Ray on my lap. Butch was leaned up against me, wearing a pair of binoculars and holding a map of the Appalachian Trail. We rode the Trolley to the base of the Chalet Road, hiked up and they let us in.
I intended to head back early Thursday morning but thought better of it. We stayed in bed until noon and then spent most of the afternoon in the hot tub on the back porch, drinking straight from a water hose. We swore off Moonshine forever and mapped out our workout and nutrition plans for the immediate future. We were sufficiently rehydrated by the time of the debate but they still weren't saying much to us in the living room so me and Butch sat out on the porch and watched Newt Gingrich dominate on my laptop until the Bat showed up and things started getting interesting again. That's a story in itself and is best saved for later.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Monday Morning Coming Down
There is a suspicious looking man with a swarthy beard and a Columbia t-shirt sitting across the coffee shop from me. Ivy League Columbia, not Belk Columbia. He is sitting in one of the leather chairs in an irritating lotus-like position. I am killing time while the tire shop diagnoses the rhythmic noise in the Camry; the noise that has been been the bane of my existence for the last two weeks. I don't do well with unnecessary noises. This man has several books strewn about over there and if I find out that one of them is by Paul Krugman, I will challenge him to a fist fight right here in this coffee shop. Right here in the middle of Oxford, MS. There is a local newspaperman in here as well so it will be publicized and if they find out I am a Conservative, I may very well be vilified on MSNBC.
Oxford, MS is really a Disney Small Town Resort. I have done quite a bit of early morning running in this "town" and I have seen the maintenance workers out in the golf carts and the actors coming into the back gate all together early in the morning. It is like when I sold popcorn and cokes out of a red wagon at the wrestling matches in the Old Gym in Humboldt, TN when I was about eleven or twelve. When I first witnessed a bad guy drive up in the same car as a good guy, something inside of me died and I vowed to never trust another human being again. It scarred me for life and I have been paranoid ever since but I took that nickel profit on each cup of coke or box of popcorn and I built it into the financial empire over which I rule today.
I haven't been in many of the stores on the Square but I am pretty sure there is nothing but the facade on several of them. It's like a western movie set but with boutiques and restaurants and all the women extras inject Botox right out in the open and all the men have Justin Beiber hairstyles. All ages, it doesn't matter. An out of town merchant opened a store on the Square that offered quality designer dresses at very reasonable prices and he was bankrupt within six months. An Oxonian, who is familiar with local custom, bought the store and inventory, raised the prices by 300%, hired a couple of anorexic 40 year old sorority girls with breast implants as clerks, and now it is being franchised in college towns throughout the south and California.
The tire guy called. They put on two new front tires and did a front brake job. I don't think I am going to be able to handle it if I pull out and hear that noise again. All I can say is that if I hear that noise again, I am coming back down to this coffee shop and I am going to look at those books over there and if one of them is by Paul Krugman, you will hear about it.
Oxford, MS is really a Disney Small Town Resort. I have done quite a bit of early morning running in this "town" and I have seen the maintenance workers out in the golf carts and the actors coming into the back gate all together early in the morning. It is like when I sold popcorn and cokes out of a red wagon at the wrestling matches in the Old Gym in Humboldt, TN when I was about eleven or twelve. When I first witnessed a bad guy drive up in the same car as a good guy, something inside of me died and I vowed to never trust another human being again. It scarred me for life and I have been paranoid ever since but I took that nickel profit on each cup of coke or box of popcorn and I built it into the financial empire over which I rule today.
I haven't been in many of the stores on the Square but I am pretty sure there is nothing but the facade on several of them. It's like a western movie set but with boutiques and restaurants and all the women extras inject Botox right out in the open and all the men have Justin Beiber hairstyles. All ages, it doesn't matter. An out of town merchant opened a store on the Square that offered quality designer dresses at very reasonable prices and he was bankrupt within six months. An Oxonian, who is familiar with local custom, bought the store and inventory, raised the prices by 300%, hired a couple of anorexic 40 year old sorority girls with breast implants as clerks, and now it is being franchised in college towns throughout the south and California.
The tire guy called. They put on two new front tires and did a front brake job. I don't think I am going to be able to handle it if I pull out and hear that noise again. All I can say is that if I hear that noise again, I am coming back down to this coffee shop and I am going to look at those books over there and if one of them is by Paul Krugman, you will hear about it.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Performance Art Piece as a Law Student (My real law school story) - Part One.
I visited New York City in the late 1970's in order to study Method Acting with Lee Strasberg at the Actor's Studio. Because I didn't want others to realize that I was acting in many of the subsequent roles I played, I kept it a secret from all but a few close friends. At the time, I claimed that I had attended an Ayn Rand's Objectivism convention.
While the vast majority of my actions since beginning training have been sincere, on occasion I have gone into character for an isolated event or, more than once, an entire relationship. The time that I almost married the habitual liar from Dyer County because I was convinced, at least initially, that God had sent her as an answer to my prayers and then I was too ashamed to admit she was actually a sociopath after having bragged so much about her - Acting. Another notable performance in which I relied heavily on my improvisational skill for a specific event, was when I decided to see what would happen when I tried to go back to my girlfriend after having vanished for three months.
I decided to take on the role of "the repentant boyfriend" shortly after last call at the Amvets early one summer morning. Upon arrival at my girlfriend's apartment, I found the lock on the front door had been changed. Committed to the role, I went around to the back of her apartment and began pulling myself up to her bedroom window. I found the window unlocked and after quietly raising the window and parting the curtains, I found her lying with another man. For a moment I was stunned because this was so out of character for her and I struggled for an appropriate response. I slid down from the window and started walking back around the apartment to my car. Then, suddenly struck by improvisational genius, I wheeled around and charged back to the bedroom window! Regardless of whether the others broke character, I would remain faithful to the muse! I leapt back up to the window ledge and crawled partially through the window. The window opened right behind the headboard, affording me the opportunity to immediately start choking the gentleman while declaring with loud and colorful language my firm intent to kill him. For dramatic effect, I tore the curtains down on top of both of them and then resumed my effort to get better leverage so as to apply maximum pressure. When through the woman's desperate screams, I was finally able to ascertain that this was not my girlfriend with another man at all, but a woman and her boyfriend who were house-sitting for my significant other while she was out of town, I instinctively feigned a drunken stupor, slid back out the window to the ground, and left without even a mumbled apology. I consider this to be perhaps my finest "event" performance.
Through the years I did roles as diverse as: late-night bartender; roustabout on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico; an admittedly disastrous performance as a juvenile probation officer; and, most famously, a six year run as a finance manager in a Ford dealership. There were many others. In 2007, wanting to shake things up a bit, I posed as a lesbian to increase my chance for a role as a Starbucks Barista but I was unable to get past the second interview. Dejected, I took a trip back to NYC for a refresher at the Studio. While running along the East River early one June morning, the seeds were planted for my most challenging role. (to be continued)
While the vast majority of my actions since beginning training have been sincere, on occasion I have gone into character for an isolated event or, more than once, an entire relationship. The time that I almost married the habitual liar from Dyer County because I was convinced, at least initially, that God had sent her as an answer to my prayers and then I was too ashamed to admit she was actually a sociopath after having bragged so much about her - Acting. Another notable performance in which I relied heavily on my improvisational skill for a specific event, was when I decided to see what would happen when I tried to go back to my girlfriend after having vanished for three months.
I decided to take on the role of "the repentant boyfriend" shortly after last call at the Amvets early one summer morning. Upon arrival at my girlfriend's apartment, I found the lock on the front door had been changed. Committed to the role, I went around to the back of her apartment and began pulling myself up to her bedroom window. I found the window unlocked and after quietly raising the window and parting the curtains, I found her lying with another man. For a moment I was stunned because this was so out of character for her and I struggled for an appropriate response. I slid down from the window and started walking back around the apartment to my car. Then, suddenly struck by improvisational genius, I wheeled around and charged back to the bedroom window! Regardless of whether the others broke character, I would remain faithful to the muse! I leapt back up to the window ledge and crawled partially through the window. The window opened right behind the headboard, affording me the opportunity to immediately start choking the gentleman while declaring with loud and colorful language my firm intent to kill him. For dramatic effect, I tore the curtains down on top of both of them and then resumed my effort to get better leverage so as to apply maximum pressure. When through the woman's desperate screams, I was finally able to ascertain that this was not my girlfriend with another man at all, but a woman and her boyfriend who were house-sitting for my significant other while she was out of town, I instinctively feigned a drunken stupor, slid back out the window to the ground, and left without even a mumbled apology. I consider this to be perhaps my finest "event" performance.
Through the years I did roles as diverse as: late-night bartender; roustabout on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico; an admittedly disastrous performance as a juvenile probation officer; and, most famously, a six year run as a finance manager in a Ford dealership. There were many others. In 2007, wanting to shake things up a bit, I posed as a lesbian to increase my chance for a role as a Starbucks Barista but I was unable to get past the second interview. Dejected, I took a trip back to NYC for a refresher at the Studio. While running along the East River early one June morning, the seeds were planted for my most challenging role. (to be continued)
Saturday, August 6, 2011
The Sad Decline of My Hometown
I entered the first grade at East End Elementary in Humboldt, TN in 1965. There was a Kindergarten in the community building at Bailey Park the prior year but I did not attend. All through elementary school there was little change in the student body. A few kids moved in, a few moved out, but it was pretty much the same children each year. There were a handful of black children at East End Elementary during my years there so it wasn't completely segregated but it pretty much was.
In the fall of 1970, the Humboldt white and black school systems integrated into one system. Also in the fall of 1970, Old Hickory Academy (USJ now) opened in Jackson, TN. The new school was about 13 miles away from Humboldt and many of the children of the more prominent families in Humboldt transferred to Old Hickory. Some of the leading families, such as the Jones and the Stallings, kept their children in Humboldt but there was a definite mass exodus from that side of town. It was decided by the new consolidated school system in Humboldt, that the Stigall Hornets and the Humboldt Rams would now become the Humboldt Vikings.
When I graduated from Humboldt High School in 1977, there were twelve members of the graduating class at Old Hickory that I had gone through grades 1-5 at East End Elementary with. All of these students were white, of course. There were similar numbers of Humboldt children in the other grades at Old Hickory at that time. So you can do the math and see roughly how many children (and families) we lost in 1970.
Milan, TN is about 12 miles northeast of Humboldt and 20 miles from Jackson. The city of Milan has roughly the same population as Humboldt and they are both in Gibson County. They went through the same consolidation of school systems along the same time lime as Humboldt did. Curiously, a much smaller number of the Milan children left for Old Hickory Academy during this period. Also, when the Polk-Clark Buffaloes merged with the Milan Bulldogs, the school system chose to keep the Milan Bulldog mascot.
Humboldt and Milan were very similar communities in 1970 but the two towns are markedly different today. I have lived in each city for a substantial time within the last 10 years and I found noticable differences in the general quality of life between the cities . I wish it was not so but I can't deny it. By anyone's standards, the Milan School System is more successful than the Humboldt School System at educating their students. The proportion of white students to black students remained about the same in Humboldt for several years after 1970 but then more and more white students began to leave, both proportionately and in sheer numbers. Milan may have lost some of their white students to private or neighboring public schools through the years but nothing like Humboldt did.
Was it just the 8 more miles of driving that the Milan families would have had to navigate that made them stay in 1970? Was it a difference in the attitude of those in leadership when integration was implemented? Is is possible that just a few key people in, or not in, positions of leadership in their respective communities made all the difference? Did the compromise on the mascot in Humboldt versus the keeping of the mascot in Milan signify something much more significant about the character or attitude of the communities at that time?
I don't know why there was such a different reaction by families in Milan and Humboldt back then but I'm sure it was due to a combination of factors. In almost all things, there is more gray than black and white. I do believe that the exodus of so many of the children of Humboldt's leading families marked the beginning of the end of Humboldt's best days. Many of the parents of those children, particularly the mothers who were more likely to be stay-at-home moms for socio-economic reasons, would have been leaders in supporting the Humboldt schools and school and community activities. These parents generally had more time, resources, and even more education that would have enabled them to lead and help to keep the standards up by serving in the school system and on the school board. They would have been involved in more general community activities in Humboldt, as well, if their children had stayed in Humboldt Schools.
Don't get me wrong, Humboldt had (and has) plenty of good parents left and many fine people supported us, educated us, and volunteered to help us in our schools and community. I am very grateful for the people who supported me while I attended Humboldt Schools and while I "attempted" to grow up in Humboldt. I should also point out that many of the private school parents remained active in our churches and in community events, especially with the Strawberry Festival. That said, I've come to believe that this singular event, the mass withdrawal by so many of Humboldt's leading families from their hometown school system, was a blow that the town of Humboldt has never recovered from. It wounded the community and, furthermore, it set the stage for the systematic white flight that followed and which has left the town a shell of the Humboldt I was fortunate to grow up in.
In the fall of 1970, the Humboldt white and black school systems integrated into one system. Also in the fall of 1970, Old Hickory Academy (USJ now) opened in Jackson, TN. The new school was about 13 miles away from Humboldt and many of the children of the more prominent families in Humboldt transferred to Old Hickory. Some of the leading families, such as the Jones and the Stallings, kept their children in Humboldt but there was a definite mass exodus from that side of town. It was decided by the new consolidated school system in Humboldt, that the Stigall Hornets and the Humboldt Rams would now become the Humboldt Vikings.
When I graduated from Humboldt High School in 1977, there were twelve members of the graduating class at Old Hickory that I had gone through grades 1-5 at East End Elementary with. All of these students were white, of course. There were similar numbers of Humboldt children in the other grades at Old Hickory at that time. So you can do the math and see roughly how many children (and families) we lost in 1970.
Milan, TN is about 12 miles northeast of Humboldt and 20 miles from Jackson. The city of Milan has roughly the same population as Humboldt and they are both in Gibson County. They went through the same consolidation of school systems along the same time lime as Humboldt did. Curiously, a much smaller number of the Milan children left for Old Hickory Academy during this period. Also, when the Polk-Clark Buffaloes merged with the Milan Bulldogs, the school system chose to keep the Milan Bulldog mascot.
Humboldt and Milan were very similar communities in 1970 but the two towns are markedly different today. I have lived in each city for a substantial time within the last 10 years and I found noticable differences in the general quality of life between the cities . I wish it was not so but I can't deny it. By anyone's standards, the Milan School System is more successful than the Humboldt School System at educating their students. The proportion of white students to black students remained about the same in Humboldt for several years after 1970 but then more and more white students began to leave, both proportionately and in sheer numbers. Milan may have lost some of their white students to private or neighboring public schools through the years but nothing like Humboldt did.
Was it just the 8 more miles of driving that the Milan families would have had to navigate that made them stay in 1970? Was it a difference in the attitude of those in leadership when integration was implemented? Is is possible that just a few key people in, or not in, positions of leadership in their respective communities made all the difference? Did the compromise on the mascot in Humboldt versus the keeping of the mascot in Milan signify something much more significant about the character or attitude of the communities at that time?
I don't know why there was such a different reaction by families in Milan and Humboldt back then but I'm sure it was due to a combination of factors. In almost all things, there is more gray than black and white. I do believe that the exodus of so many of the children of Humboldt's leading families marked the beginning of the end of Humboldt's best days. Many of the parents of those children, particularly the mothers who were more likely to be stay-at-home moms for socio-economic reasons, would have been leaders in supporting the Humboldt schools and school and community activities. These parents generally had more time, resources, and even more education that would have enabled them to lead and help to keep the standards up by serving in the school system and on the school board. They would have been involved in more general community activities in Humboldt, as well, if their children had stayed in Humboldt Schools.
Don't get me wrong, Humboldt had (and has) plenty of good parents left and many fine people supported us, educated us, and volunteered to help us in our schools and community. I am very grateful for the people who supported me while I attended Humboldt Schools and while I "attempted" to grow up in Humboldt. I should also point out that many of the private school parents remained active in our churches and in community events, especially with the Strawberry Festival. That said, I've come to believe that this singular event, the mass withdrawal by so many of Humboldt's leading families from their hometown school system, was a blow that the town of Humboldt has never recovered from. It wounded the community and, furthermore, it set the stage for the systematic white flight that followed and which has left the town a shell of the Humboldt I was fortunate to grow up in.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
I can't find a job so I am starting a blog.
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| Contemplating the Juris Doctor |
Along about 2004, people I knew began dying at an alarming rate. My friend Craig was one of the first and this period culiminated with my step-son and my father both dying in the same week of May, 2006. I suspect that all this dying triggered the excessive ruminating on my own death that I did during this time. Sometime in early 2007, I specifically wondered how I would feel if I found out that I only had one month to live. Although my life looked pretty good on the surface (sober 10 years, running marathons, beautiful teenage daughter, nice home, etc...) during this time, I was terrified when I considered this prospect. I was living a lie, at least two-thirds of my life was past, I was definitely going to die at some point regardless, and I was working in a job that I was ashamed of and not taking any real steps to change this. From that point forward, I knew that my car business career was "dead to me now" and I scheduled a trip to NYC for my daughter and me while we still had an income.
We saw Mary Poppins, Spring Awakening, A Chorus Line (all excellent) and a Mets/Yankees game at Yankee Stadium among other things. I ran a 5 mile race on Father's Day in Central Park. We stayed at a cool little hotel (The Pod Hotel) around 51st and 3rd and we rode the subway everywhere and walked in the neighborhoods. While running along the East River early one morning I decided I was going to go to law school and move to New York City. Just like that.
I graduated from law school in December, 2010. Some other things have and haven't happened. I'm still thinking about New York City.
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