Month: May 2018

Part of the reason that I started this blog was that I wanted to sharpen my skills when it came to writing for an audience. I am fully aware that just about no one reads this save to subscribers, and I think my wife. I have been out of the writing game for almost a decade now, I felt very rusty, and thought that this was a good way to keep working at it, even when I wasn’t sure what I was working on.

The way I see it, right now, I spend about three hours a day writing, give or take. I journal, write in this blog or at least try to type out 250 words, and I work on a project, which right now is one of three novels that I shift between. I have been keeping track in a calendar to see what I work on, so I can see what has been taking up my time. Since I have started the calendar, my productivity has increased.

Which leads me to the question that popped into my head right before I stared working on the blog: Am I writing, or am I typing? Am I just creating words for the ability to say that I am creating words, with the hope that someday they will naturally help me to become better as a writer? I can crank out words, but am I really saying anything?

The President lying about the Stormy Daniels stuff. This level of Keystone Cops – Amateur Hour lying is just sort of amazing. I’m pretty sure my three-year-old is better at lying than these guys. But then again, I think that is what it takes to be a con-man; you just have to go for it and see if anyone calls you out on it. And then there is that other thing, which is you might be called out on it, but that doesn’t mean anyone can stop you. I think they will keep lying and changing the story until someone or something stops them, which is sounding like jail.

And why aren’t cheerleaders in the NFL paid? There is a lot of stuff in the NY Times story that is fucked up, but how is it a billion-dollar corporation is unable to pay any member of its work force? Non-profits not paying people, calling them volunteers, I get that. But the NFL made $14 billion dollars in 2017, and they can’t pay cheerleaders? Honestly? You combine greed and sexism and you get this situation.

I read an opinion piece in the NY Times this morning on the commute to work. The title, “Industrial Revolution and Political Wrecking Balls,” give you a nice idea that is a rather dramatic opinion. I would sum it up as that we are about to enter into a new industrial revolution which has to do with automation in manufacturing, and this change will put a great number of out of work. That, just about everyone agrees on, and as it is starting to happen, we are begging to see the political ramifications of that. The solutions, that was where there are different opinions. From it will solve itself, to universal basic income.

What I got from it was that things are changing, and economies are changing, and my dad used to tell me that you got want to get caught being the guy who makes buggy whips when cars show up.

And I’m in the arts… Which I could argue will always be around, not matter what happens to the economy.

But I’m an America, and that means that all of the art created in the country also has to follow to rules of capitalism. (I think Anne Bogart was the first to say this.)  So, it is all tied together.

If the middle of America is thrown out of work, and there is no alternative for them to work and maintain their lifestyles, then are the article pointed out, that group will start to move to populism and begin to blame other groups for their misfortunes; immigrants, minorities, elites…

It didn’t instill a great amount of confidence in me with my fellow Americans. They will either suffer greatly if this industrial revolution happens, or they might come after me…

I promised myself that I would do it, and today I accomplished it. I got up at 6am and went running for 30 minutes.

And yes, it did hurt.

But I’m glad I did it.

I have let myself go since the kid came along and the whole work thing blew up, but that was two years ago. It really does feel like I am just now putting my life back together after those two huge life events. I have been to inactive for far too long.

I have a pot belly now.

And that is what the running is, a small attempt to get things back on track. To take control of my health, which is also to say to take control of my future.

Okay, this is getting to sound like a personal pep talk.

Maybe it is…

The wife is going to the gym and doing yoga, and I can admit that I am being shamed into taking care of myself again.

But at some point, I get to say that I don’t care anymore, right? I have some sort of right to accept my old age and just let myself go? I mean, my weight won’t always be under control. The joints will not perform like they used to, and well, mobility becomes an issue. At that point, I’m allowed to stop trying, right?

I think the new getting old is trying to stay in shape as along as possible.

So, I spent 24 years living in Texas, and I don’t think I really noticed that Summers were stupid hot until I was in 9^th grade. That might be one of the weirdest things to say, but when I hit 14, I started hating how hot it got during the Summer.

I also remember that the local news used to have a 100-degree count over the Summer, which was something that people liked to keep track of. In fact, when we moved there is 1982, people were still talking about the summer of 1980, that was an awful Summer.

Now, growing up, down the street from my neighborhood was a waterpark, and that might be part of the reason that I never paid too much attention to the heat. My family got season passes to the water park, and I sent days there up to 7^th grade. (At that point, I thought it stopped being cool to go there… No reason, just fear of being in 7^th grade and be seen having fun someplace.) My mom would take me, and she would sit in a beach lounge chair, and I would run around the park. Then we’d head home at lunch, only to return for a few more hours before dinner. Not that we did that every day, as she was a part time nurse, but I would say, twice a week for a few Summers.