Month: April 2022

  • ODDS and ENDS: Museum of Natural History, Alice Walker’s Journals, Dallas Mavericks, and Jazz Samba

    (Stay Fresh, Cheese Bags!)

    It’s Earth Day! AND the kid is on Spring Break! So, we’re going to the Museum of Natural History today! This is low hanging fruit when it comes to doing something with the kid that she will enjoy for several hours. For most of my friends with kids, the zoo is their “go-to” place to occupy some time, but my kid never has really enjoyed going to a zoo. Now, a petting zoo, or looking at baby animals, she will go crazy over that. But your normal, run of the mill zoo; nope, my daughter ain’t having it. What she wants is a display case with rocks in it. Maybe a diorama from the 1920’s. Give us a squid and a whale!

    Yesterday, I read a piece in The New Yorker about a book of Alice Walker’s journals. I was interested because I think Walker is a great writer who I look up to, and being that I journal, I am curious what her journals are like. Two things I took away from the article are that Walker at one point thought she should smoke “less weed,” and her preoccupation with money. I admit that I haven’t read this book and am only going off what was in the article, but these two points, weed and money, humanized Alice Walker for me, and made me respect her more. The weed statement means that she feels like she should be getting high less, and doing other things, and I infer that means writing. Even someone like Alice Walker thinks she should be working harder. And there is money. It’s not surprising that Walker was thinking about money issues before she was “ALICE WALKER” and was just another writer trying to make it. Yet, to see it in her journals just proves that finances were taking up a large part of her thought process, and needed to be expressed. Yes, she was trying out new ideas that would become great stories, but she was also trying to figure out how to pay rent and eat.

    I have been enjoying watching the Dallas Mavericks vs the Utah Jazz in the NBA Playoffs. Especially, I have enjoyed the Dallas bench playing some clutch basketball.

    Today’s album that I am listening to is “Jazz Samba” by Stan Getz and Charlie Byrd.

  • SLEEP! In Heavenly Peace!

    I watched a disc golf tournament last night on YouTube. I found it fascinating that there are people out there that can throw a disc 300 yards, and sometimes in a straight line. It was pretty cool, as I don’t think I would have watched a disc golf tournament if it hadn’t been the fifth night in a row when I couldn’t sleep.

    I know you are not supposed to say this, but it’s my kid’s fault. This week is her Spring Break, and she is refusing to go to bed. Even when she does go to sleep, she finds a way to wake up, and then proceeds to wake me up as well, to inform me that she cannot sleep. I’m trying to be cool about it, and level headed, but it is really beginning to get under my skin.

    I normally am not a person who sleeps. I stay up too late, and get up early. I do try to take short naps, and I think that’s how I have been able to keep my sanity. Yet, the situation I find myself in has not only robbed me of my naps, and also of my normal five to six hours of nightly sleep.

    I need the kid to go back to school.

    This lack of sleep, and child watching, has also robbed me of my ability to do anything creative. To steal these few minutes, I gave her the iPad, and told her just to go watch something – anything – just give me fifteen minutes alone so I can get something done.

    Remember, kids won’t make you a happier person. That only happens if you were happy to begin with. After this week, I don’t think I was ever a happy person.

  • Shorty Story Review: “Untranslatability” by James Yeh

    (The short story “Untranslatability” by James Yeh, appeared in the January 6th, 2022, Issue 6 of The Drift.)

    In a love story, really, there are only two outcomes; they get together, or they don’t. If they get together, it’s because the characters had to struggle to get there, and they learned something along the way which will lead to why they deserve to be together. If they don’t get together, then at least they learned something about themselves which will make them better people, and thus, the relationship was necessary. In “Untranslatability” by James Yeh, the author tells us near the start of the story, that the characters, Charles and Emily, are doomed, which puts them in the “don’t get together” category.

    The story follows as such; Emily, who is a translator, gets a grant to go to Germany and translate the work of one of her favorite writers. Charles, who is a struggling writer working at a media company, supports this decision, but Yeh makes us know that Charles agrees to this because it reflects well on Charles to have his girlfriend this talented, not because he believes in Emily. Since we know the outcome, Emily meets someone else, breaks up with Charles over a video chat, and he is left wondering what to do next. Charles decides to make a grand gesture of going to Germany to try to win her back, which plays out not as awkward as you would think, but is still doomed, as we know it will be. Charles returns home, and starts to get his life in order. A year later, Emily’s book, on the writer she translated, is published, and Charles writes a blog about it. Then she invites him to the book launch party, where they see they have come to a place of understanding.

    I struggled with this story, not sure how I felt about it. In fact, I wasn’t even sure how James Yeh felt about it either. Yeh seemed to be very disappointed in the character of Charles, which makes you unsympathetic toward the character. At the same time, Emily does come across as a neo-Magic Pixie Girl; smart, confidant, driven, and successful without a fault in sight. Yet, I also felt like Yeh made this decision to try and buck the stereotype of these types of stories. Maybe they were doomed, not because they were star-crossed lovers, but because they weren’t good for each other, and no amount of change or internal growth was going to garner a different result. Maybe. But I’m still not sure. Yeh did touch and some very authentic moments, such as when Charles was torn between concern for Emily’s sick father, and his contemplation if he could use that situation to his advantage. (Very shallow, but a brutal honesty.) And the final paragraph was especially on the nose; maybe you can learn something, but still not change who you are. Maybe.

  • Stuck in My Head (Unedited)

    Some days, no matter how hard I try, I can’t get out of my own head. You know, you get one thought that keeps bouncing around no matter how hard you try to get rid of it. Like, I keep thinking about how I embarrassed myself at a party back in college. I am sure no one even thinks about that moment other than me, but the thought just keeps taking up space and popping up over and over again.

    Also, so does the NBA theme song that John Tesh wrote for NBC. I can go a couple of days in a row humming those opening bars of the song, just over and over again. Oh, and if I am focused on doing a chore like cleaning the bathroom, I’ll start to sing “Outshined” by Soundgarden. And then today, I can’t stop singing, “(Nothing But) Flowers” by Talking Heads.

  • Skipped Writing (Unedited)

    I thought that I would skip writing today. The kid is on Spring Break, which means that I am “on” the whole day. Add on to that, dealing with our car’s repairs, the laundry, and all the other chores; It just didn’t seem like it would be possible to jot anything down.

    And that was true

    Up to about thirty minutes ago.

    The wife is in bed, the kid is in bed, the dishes are done, coffee is made for the morning, and I am watching the Mavericks play the Jazz.

    Why aren’t I writing?

    I am tired, but I should just get something out.

    And I am having trouble holding on to what it is that I should be doing. Most days I don’t know. Most days, I feel like I am still faking it, like a kid on the first day of junior high. Most days, I feel like I am letting the kid down.

    I try to just keep putting one foot in front of the other, with the hope that I am leading myself in the right direction.

    But most days, I feel like I missed my shot. Most days I feel like I am too late to the party.

    And I try to take these feelings and make something out of it.

    Which is why I am so fucking tired right now, and I should go to bed, but I’m not.

    I’m going to write something, because that makes me feel better.

    And that means something.