My Favorite Color
It's the best color because it has the best smell.
The Company I Keep
My dog friends remind me to pay attention to now, this world and all of its wonders -- the feel of a mudpuddle on a spring day, the fascinating mystery of a rustle in the underbrush, the joy of running through a field. I need a big dose of their company, or else I forget that. And they sleep with the satisfaction of the truly relaxed.
I spend a lot of time with college students, too, and they too remind me to live in this world, the one right here and now, full of its fascinations and mysteries. In small ways college students make me feel wise, because I've already learned some of the things about the grown up world, people and relationships and identity, that they're busy discovering. But when I think like that I am being foolish. Like all of my other friends, they have more to teach me than I have to teach them. I spend car rides asking them all the questions they'll put up with, about how they see the world, about what is true for them.
I am a huge admirer of Clay Shirky. What I admire most is how willing he is to unlearn all his assumptions about the world so he's able to see how it is changing. What I admire second most is how he uses stories to explain big ideas. That's how I learn and remember things.
Don't Assume
I have a new laptop, and I've just opened a new financial institution account, and the combination means I've had about a million opportunities to choose from among selected "Secret Questions" that are designed to prompt me to give my chosen answer and confirm my account identity. Who thinks these questions up, and what sort of people do they know?
I find the choices of "Secret Questions" terribly offensive. When I was still single, I remember how crappy the "Secret Questions" made me feel -- who was the best man at your wedding? In what month did you meet your spouse? What is your spouse's middle name? Damn, I thought. Even my bank thinks I'm a loser for still being single.
Now there are bunch of similar children questions: "In what month was your eldest child born?"
If you aren't married, or don't have kids, you've got to talk about your car or your pets. I have friends with neither. Or about high school -- who was your prom date, for example. What was your high school mascot? Which cheerleading squad did you first belong to?
Turboglacier and I were talking about some alternative questions, that don't assume quite such a middle-America, white-picket-fence childhood. Which of your tattoos do you regret the most? What was bail set at in your first arraignment? What is the first name of your elementary school tormentor? Which Black Sabbath album did you buy first?
Chocolate Cake
With chocolate buttercream frosting. Mmmmm. It's not as hard as you think, and it tastes better than you remember. Why not bake one, and invite your neighbors over for a slice and a glass of milk?
Springtime In Maine
The first sign of spring in this state is that the blue-white of snow and shadows changes to grey and brown. The snow is melting but all the winter's accumulation of sand (sprinkled down by plow trucks to give traction in snowstorms), frozen decomposing dogpoop, and miscellaneous trash begins to show itself. The ground is freezing and thawing in daily cycles, leaving it alternately muddy and hard. The grass is visible as yellow-grey-brown patches, layered with mud and sand. The remaining piles of snow are the color and texture of concrete. It's a bad time to come visit.
50 degrees difference
Generally my rule as a coach is, we sail in the rain, but we don't sail in the snow. But this season is too important, and practice time too precious, to skip a day because of a few flakes. Brrrrr.
Back In Florida, Part II
We get good breeze here, and good practice sailing in waves and lumpy water. And it's warm enough that you don't mind getting wet.
No sunburn yet. I'm hiding underneath layers of sunscreen, plus my Columbia UPF 30 hat and shirt. Love them both.
Back In Florida
It is nice to be wearing flip flops, and to feel a warm breeze on my skin. I'm still thrilled by palm trees and egrets. I'll be on the water tomorrow. Sailing season!
Take a left at the Taco Bell, and go past the Publix and the CVS and the Midas shop, and then you'll pass another Taco Bell, and a Chick-Fil-A, and just past the car dealership you'll see a Dunkin Donuts, a Gold's Gym, and a Walgreen's. There's a mall there where you can find a Barnes and Noble, a Panda Express, a Taco Bell and a Staples. It seems to repeat every block or two, and the parking lots are all stuffed. I can't wait to get out on a boat.
Spirit in the Sky
NBT and I are thinking about paint colors, and we have a bunch of options spread out on the kitchen counter. I gravitate to reddish browns, creams, and yellows, and have to fight to stay open minded to greens and blues. I'm trying, I really am.
I Had That Flu
Tuesday afternoon I knew something was wrong, but I had to moderate a panel discussion and then run a meeting, until 10 PM. Wednesday I couldn't get out of bed. Thursday I got myself to the store to try to buy orange juice and had to be helped by an EMT and a cashier over to a bench so I didn't faint in the checkout line. (Trying to go shopping was just plain stupid, I admit.) Friday I felt much better, but NBT nearly clocked me when I said I thought I should go to work, and indeed, I slept almost all day. Saturday I woke up and felt 100% better than Friday, but still about 65% of my usual self. I had visions of exercising, but a two block walk around the neighborhood wiped me out and I had to take a two hour nap. And this morning, I knew I was on the mend because I had thoughts again -- I could actually process thoughts about the past or the future, was curious about things and people outside the house.
It reminds me of what it felt like when I walked that marathon, way back when, and my body was so exhausted my brain just shut down. I must have been this sick before, but I can't remember when. I'm still treating myself like an invalid in a Jane Austen novel, because the prospect of a relapse is impossible to bear. And I would hate to infect anybody else. I still have a hacking cough that shows up if I laugh, and some congestion and a sore throat, but otherwise I feel pretty good. Just having my curiosity back feels like a million bucks.
