Category: Writing

  • Report on the Politicians, and the Reporters Who Follow the Campaigns

    I follow the politics of the country as if it were a form a reality television; It tries to imply that its real, but it’s all fake. And that fake show is reported as reality. Not that I blame the press for it, but I also feel that no one really has been honest about it for a while. Like, even the people on “The Circus: Inside the Greatest Political Show on Earth,” seem more interested in looking cool, or that they know how phony it all is, but they are right in the middle of it. I don’t think anyone has been honest about the whole fake business that politic and the reporting of politics has become sine Hunter Thompson in “Fear and Loathing: On the Campaign Trail “72.”

    I was trying to describe this to my wife the other night as the New Hampshire results were coming in on cable television. And then we switched over to watch “The Circus,” and that’s when the idea hit me; I would like to follow all the campaigns and the reporters, and share with everyone all the crazy shit that happens in the stage craft of campaigning. I’m not a reporter, so I have no idea what the ethics of that job is in those situations.  I would be an outsider peeking in.

    I wonder if I could do this, and get someone else to pick up the tab?

  • Following the Sun

    On days that I get down on myself, I remember a tory a theatre professor of mine told.

    It went along the lines of this…

    Follow your dreams no matter what. That doesn’t mean your dreams will come true, but if you are open to all the places, experiences and people that you meet along the way, your life won’t be dull, and you’ll be in a much happier place.

    I might be paraphrasing a little.

    Mainly, I have followed that advice. Some days more than others, but lately I started to think that it was just stuff you would tell a class full of people that were about the graduate. It’s a positive statement, but it also gave the professor an out; most of you aren’t going to make it, but you’ll have fun.

    And then I started getting older and seeing how other people also got older.

    It’s the dream denied that is dangerous. It’s the people who told themselves that they couldn’t do what they wanted, but never gave up wanting it, that I am seeing more and more now. Yes, I saw a ton of bitter actors in New York, but in a sense, they hadn’t given up on themselves. They were just made at everyone else succeeding.

    I now see people made at themselves. Disappointed in their choices in not trusting themselves and believing in themselves.

    This observation of middle-aged people has scared me a little. I don’t think I have become that.

    I still try, seeing where it goes.

  • Oops…

    Well… I finally did it. I sent out an inappropriate group email at work.

    I won’t get into too many details, but I immediately sent a follow up email apologizing, and taking responsibility for my actions. Just too quick on the send button.

    Also, the Gmail “Undo” function has a default setting of 5 seconds. I suggest EVERYONE go into their settings and change that to 30 seconds.

    I went into my boss’ office, and personally apologized to her as well.

    So, I embarrassed myself very badly at work today.

    Now, how do I move on? This will come up again. Someone will say something to me, in a joking or negative way, but it will happen. It will come down to my reaction; am I defensive, do I laugh it off, do I stay humble and say nothing.

    I also need to forgive myself, which I am really bad at. This is the type of thing that I will lay in bed at night, asking myself, “Why did you hit the send button?”

    I should tell myself that no one died, and no one was physically hurt, and everybody has done this at one point in their lives. We are all human.

    But I know I won’t do that. I will replay the embarrassment over and over again. That racing of my pulse when I discovered what I had done. The feeling of helplessness that I cannot undo this. The shame of being a disingenuous person.

    Everyone says that you have to learn to forgive yourself and accept that your mistakes make you who you are. But the process of getting there has no road map. I can forgive others, just not myself, most days.

  • I Need a Minute

    I am looking forward to the three-day weekend. Not just for the normal reasons, but also to have three days to get life back to normal.

    We have been running from place to place the day after Halloween. The 31st was the last day we had where we didn’t have to run errands or make some sort of arrangements. That was the day we could just focus on the kid, and make sure she had a good day. We couldn’t have pulled it off without our friends in LA, and they truly made it a memorable experience for the kid.

    Then we had to run to Texas for a planned family trip, and though it is great to see our families, it was still running, running, and more running.

    On Monday, we flew into LA where I got our car and cat and drove back home, while the wife and kid took a flight home. Their job was to get the apartment back in shape, as we had a fridge full of rotted food, a half carved pumpkin left on the kitchen counter.

    I spent 6 hours driving up the Central Valley working my way back to the Bay Area. The cat cried nonstop for two hours, which in turn caused me to turn Led Zeppelin up even louder. That honestly was the last time I got to relax, sort of. Driving and singing along to music that I really haven’t listened to in a long time.

    On Tuesday, we all went back to work and school, like nothing had happened.

  • Evacuation

    (*Note: This was written on 11/1/19)

    I have been through a few natural disasters. The first one was an ice storm that hit Birmingham, Alabama when I was a kid. My mother was trying to get me, my brothers, and some other kids from the neighborhood home from school when the storm hit, and we got trapped on the highway. I was five years old, and for me, it just seemed like we were on an adventure. I found out years later that is was a terrifying experience for my mother, who was afraid that she would cause the death of her and these other kids. We had to abandon the car, and my mother was able to get a ride home for all of us with a big rig tow truck driver.

    Then, the next major disaster was sitting through two hurricanes that sideswiped New York City. Sandy was the worse of the two, and I clearly remember the wind howling as the gusts cause our five-story walk up to sway. There was a fast second of thinking that our building would collapse. In the end, our life was back to normal in two days, and we never lost power.

    Then the Kincade fire started, and it was only 20 miles from our apartment in Santa Rosa. There was a twinge of nervousness about it, but honestly, it was far enough away that it couldn’t get to us quickly.

    Then PG&E cut our power in the evening after we had been notified that we wouldn’t lose power.

    Not good.

    Next the wife and I had an awful night of sleep of getting a notice, of what seemed like every hour, notifying us that neighborhood after neighborhood was being ordered evacuated. It was like watching dominos slowly falling in succession, leading to the investable notice that it was our turn to pick up and run.

    It came at 6am.

    We packed in the dark, and woke the kid up, telling her that we were going to be on an adventure to see our friends in Los Angeles. (All my life is a circle, as one might say)

    The feeling of adventure, and excitement of the challenge of survival was completely gone, as now my only thought was about trying to get the kid out of danger, and also not scare her.

    She’s been rolling with all of it, but I know that it might be several years before I will know what affect this has had.