I was in D.C. on Wednesday. It was a very worthwhile trip, I think, and could lead to some business. Or maybe not.
The following summary of my trip, written by my good friend John (who I have known since the 2nd grade), has no basis in reality, except that I was in D.C., and my name is Charles, and I do like Madonna music.
FADE IN - INT. LARGE FORMAL ROOM, HUGE TABLE, BIG CHANDELIER, BOOKCASES LINE THE WALLS, FIREPLACE.
JARVIS, a man who resembles Q, shows CHARLES COHEN into the room.
JARVIS: Have a seat, Mister Cohen. Admiral Poindexter will be with you
shortly.
Charles sits. In the background we hear electronic spy music, getting
louder and more incessant, building in intensity as Charles sits
waiting, until--
Charles goes over to the radio on the counter and flips the dial.
We now hear Madonna music.
A BOOKCASE SWIVELS AROUND. ENTER Admiral Poindexter, played by JAMES
EARL JONES. He stops at the Madonna music.
POINDEXTER: Not exactly what I had in mind for an entrance. --And it
appears I'm stuck in this bookcase. Could you pry me out?
Chuck pulls Pointexter out of the bookcase.
POINDEXTER: Thank you, Luke. Err, I mean...anyway, now for why I've
brought you here—
He clicks a remote control. A television rises from the bookcase on the
opposite wall. It flicks on.
CHARLES: What's this?
POINDEXTER: This...is CNN!
CHARLES: Wow....
POINDEXTER: We're looking at news footage of a top secret new defense
system we're developing to thwart terrorists.
CHARLES: But if it's top secret, how does CNN have video of it?
POINDEXTER: (to the ceiling) DAMN YOU, WOLF BLITZER!! --We were
scooped. I mean, can you resist the charms of Christiane Amanpour?
Anyway, Saddam Hussein finds out about it, we're doomed. So we have to
do everything to insure maximum secrecy. [rings intercom] Could we have
some coffee, please?
A dark-haired man with shaggy eyebrows and a thick moustache in a
military uniform enters with some coffee.
POINDEXTER: Thank you.
MAN: You're welcome, great satan!
POINDEXTER: Now, Charles, your country is depending on you [he flicks
another button on the radio and patriotic music starts playing] and I'm
asking you, will you help us???
He grabs Charles by the shoulders. Suddenly American flags are flying
everywhere. Birds are singing. Tori Amos is smiling.
POINDEXTER: Do it for your country!
He starts shaking Charles more and more.
POINDEXTER: Charles! Charles!
He's violently shaking Charles now.
PAMELA ANDERSON: Charles! Charles! The flight's landed. And you're
blocking the aisle!
Chuck wakes. He's sitting on a plane, and Pamela Anderson is trying to
get by.
PAMELA ANDERSON: Move it! Kid Rock's a busy parolee. He can't wait for
me all day!!
She shoves by with a huff. Chuck deftly picks a piece of lint off her butt.
CHARLES: Oh well, it was a nice dream....
Suddenly Admiral Poindexter pops up in the seat next to him.
POINDEXTER: What dream?
SADDAM: Would you like a virgin with your coffee, sir?
CHARLES: AAAAAUUUGHGHGH!!!
FADE OUT: THE END
I know, I already posted once already today, but I took this picture of Marcus, and, well, my heart is melting so much, I had to share this.
Everyone has a wish list, whether they write it down or not. Heck, I even have one on Amazon.com, which I use not only for gift suggestions, but to keep track of things I will eventually buy for myself.
But that isn’t really a wish list. It is more of a “hey, these are some great items that I would love to get one day.” I don’t think there is anything wrong with that. I’m all for wedding registries, for example, and I’m usually clueless enough that I’d love to have hints about what to get my friends who have everything.
But again, that isn’t a wish list.
So here is my wish list, in no particular order. This is going to be mostly selfish. After all, it is my wish list! If people could help me get these wishes fulfilled, I’d be very grateful.
· The ability to teleport without error, myself and a few kilotons of mass, with at least planetary range…okay, at least to the moon.
· Perfect memory and recall. Add speed-reading to this.
· Another flight with Pamela Anderson sitting next to me, so I can explain why I didn’t recognize her in the first place.
· Immunity to all forms of disease.
· Controlled regenerative ability. I don’t want my wisdom teeth growing back.
· A collection of the rest of the novels from series that aren’t completed yet. What a library that would make!
· More flexibility in my body joints and ligaments.
· Uh…world peace. I’ve been watching too much of the movie Miss Congeniality, I guess.
· The ability to get by on less than 3 hours of sleep a night. Ah, what the heck, the ability to not need to sleep at all.
· A fully functional laptop that has batteries that last more than 24 hours.
· A complete understanding of women. I told you this was a wish list.
· My very own Terminator robot under my control. We are working on this; it is just taking way too long.
· Real musical talent, with signing ability on the top of my list.
· A personal assistant who could schedule my day, take care of mundane needs (like calling appliance repair people), and make life run smoother.
· Longevity. Like a couple of millennia.
· A copy on DVD of all of Steven Sondheim’s musicals with original Broadway casts.
· Shoes that actually fit well and can stand up to the abuse I put them through.
· Less nose hair.
· A week of conversation time with Richard Feynman, Barbara Tuckman, and Danny Kaye.
· An end to spam of all forms that bother me, once and for all.
· A feedback device for my television set, so that when something occurs that I like (a good news feature, or a show) or don’t like (interruptions of programming about some local crime, a tag during a show that blots out ¼ of the screen, etc.), I can let the networks and programmers know right away.
· A good night’s sleep for my wife.
· The ability to summon the police whenever I see some idiot on the road driving illegally and recklessly.
· Seasons two through seven of Firefly.
· To be a technical consultant for a new and very good science fiction show.
· A lifetime supply of those large chewy pink and purple Sweetarts that I can’t seem to find anymore.
· A pallet that enjoyed strange and exotic foods (like sushi, or even tomatoes, peppers).
· A job as one of the players on Whose Line Is It Anyway.
· A high metabolism so I can eat whatever I want.
· And, finally, enough time in the day and less interruptions so that I can actually get done half things on my work to-do list that I wanted to do today!
I have to admit, though, that if I knew my wishes would be granted, I’d likely be asking for different things. Hmm…well, maybe not.
What odd items would be on your wish list?
I don’t like going to the doctor.
Then again, who does, unless you are married to one or playing kinky sex games.
People don’t like going to the doctor because, usually, something is wrong with you and it won’t go away. Oh, sure, you may go just to get a check up, but best case is that everything is fine, and most likely you will find out that soon something will be wrong with you and it probably won’t go away.
So I don’t like going to the doctor’s office.
Today was a pleasant exception.
It was my latest, and hopefully last, check up on my wrist surgery. I’ve been very pleased with my wrist since it went under the knife a month ago. There is none of the pre-surgery pain left, and even the surgical pain is now gone. I have some slight stiffness, but I work on that every so often.
So I went in for my checkup. I got put in a waiting room almost immediately, and the name of the room lied because I think I waited for about twenty seconds. The actual checkup went something like this:
Doctor: Hi, I’m Doctor You’ll-Forget-My-Name-In-Fifty-Seconds. How are you, Mr. Cohen?
Dr. Cohen: Doing well!
Doctor YFMNIFS: How’s the wrist? [Doctor YFMNIFS grabs my wrist without warning, torques it all around, looks at the scar, sees I’m not in any pain, and makes approving noises.]
Dr. Cohen: [Looks at Doctor YFMNIFS wide-eyed in alarm as his wrist does things that would have caused him to literally pass out in pain a month ago.] All healed, I think!
Doctor YFMNIFS: [drops my wrist with a thunk on to the table and makes notes in his chart] Are you using the brace anymore?
Dr. Cohen: [thunk] Nope.
Doctor YFMNIFS: Great, you are all done, and no need for another follow up. Contact us if you have any problems.
Dr. Cohen: Thanks…[waves to the back of the retreating Doctor YFMNIFS]
And in fifty seconds, he was gone and I was done. I went to the check out area, and she said, “You are done, bye!”
Would that all doctor appointments be that easy.
Today is one of those days that just flies by and I feel I got nothing done.
I had meetings at 10 AM, Noon, and 2 PM. I respond to emails to keep the business machine going. I answer my phone at least three times an hour to further grease those wheels.
And to fuel these endevours, for lunch I grabed some corn chips and instant noodles.
With my two cups of decaf coffee, I'm doing just great.
No wonder why I'm so tired and a bit grumpy today.
I need a nap.
Red.
Breathe through my nose. Breathe out of my mouth. Breath in deep.
Hold it.
Breathe out. In. Relax.
Hold that breath, then let it out slowly, always slowly. My mind drifts as I concentrate on my breathing, and on the color red.
I see the red as I breath, and watch it change.
Orange.
The color fills my sight. In through the nose, out through the mouth.
My shoulders relax, though it takes a force of will to insist they release completely. Orange. Breathe in slowly, deeply, and exhale, and my chest and stomach relax.
Yellow.
I always wonder what I should be thinking when I travel down the rainbow. No, think about the color, the breathing. Yellow.
Breathe in, deeply, holding it, then out.
It would be nice to sleep. Where was I?
Relax my legs. Feel my toes uncurl. Stop clenching. Feel the relaxation throughout my body. Breathe.
Green.
Nothing but green. I tell my shoulders to relax again, and it is much easier this time. Relax my arms, loosen them. And my legs. Breathe. Exhale. Keep going, but there is no rush.
I could be home now, though I am comfortable. I miss my wife. She is…breathe.
Let the thoughts go, relax your body, I keep telling my self. Not harshly. It is almost a murmur as I review my body, relaxing every muscle that comes to my mind. Relax my tongue. Unclench my jaw. Drift. Breathe. Stay awake, but breathe. Be relaxed and calm.
Blue.
The blue is not harsh. It reminds me of the Pacific, warm and inviting, but getting deeper, darker.
Breathe.
It was like Hanauma Bay, so warm and inviting. Those were great times, although I was alone then, as I am now.
I don’t like being alone.
Breathe. Let the thought go. I acknowledge the thought, and keep going. My body is relaxed, breathing is natural, and I’m almost there.
Violet.
The color is welcoming, both the end of a journey yet the stepping point for another.
I check my body, but it really is relaxed, calm. That surprises me, as it always does, but I let that thought drift away too. It wants to stay, so I look at it some more, breathing, relaxing, unclenching my jaw and tongue again, and let it go.
I don’t notice what is touching me, or perhaps more accurately, I don’t really care. Violet turns to black without my prodding, and I take a mental step…
The Trail.
Trees are all around me, and I am deep within the forest. I love this place. The sun filters in through the leaves and limbs, yet there is enough shade so I do not even need to squint. There are trees all around me. I spin to take it all in, and breathe in deep the dew scented air.
The trail is still there. I had no doubt … no, I did have some worries that it would be gone. Quite honestly, I think it has been a decade since I’ve been here, and the trail shows it. It is overgrown and hard too see unless you knew exactly where to look.
Or if you wanted to find it. And I did.
I stepped onto the trail, using my walking stick to move forward. A walk in the woods just isn’t right unless I have a tall stick in my hands, and once again it is there like an old friend. The wood is smooth from use, but not perfectly straight. It twists and turns a bit here and there, kind of like my life. It fits well in my hand, and my gait adjusts to its presence without effort.
Looking around, I soak in the trees and plants. There are flowers here now, and I don’t recall that before. I’ve become more accepting of flowers as I’ve aged. I like them quite a bit, actually. Their scent tickles my nose as I laugh. I’m almost running now, down the trail, walking stick touching the ground only occasionally.
My footing is secure, not that I had any worries of falling down. I have never been hurt in this place, and I never would be. On my feet is a pair of simple sandals, but with a medium strap across the ankle so they don’t flop around. I’ve always wanted a pair like that, but never got around to finding one.
I am certainly not dressed for the woods. I’m wearing my ‘lucky’ shorts that I’ve long outgrown since my college days. It has funky colors and was something I never thought I’d buy, yet I did, and they were my favorites for a long time. My t-shirt is of a gentle blue and of a soft fabric. That is what I get for thinking about Hanauma Bay.
This time I’m not wearing glasses, so I guess my Lasik surgery works here too.
The trail is much longer this time, meandering and scenic. I recall that sometimes I’d only have to walk a few feet before I’d reach my destination. It has never been this long before, but I am not alarmed. I am immersed in the joy of the journey, of running around the trees and smelling the flowers, so I don’t really care how long it takes.
But now I’ve thought about it, and I slow down, and I think of her, wondering if she will be there.
Ah, there is the stream, just as I remember. It strolls with me as I wander down the path, making soothing burbling sounds as all streams do. I know now that I’m very close. I am still a bit nervous, but now I’m also eager. The clearing is up ahead, exactly as I knew it would be, and I step under a canopied arch formed by some trees and enter …
My Sanctuary.
This is not how I remembered the place at all.
The stream is still here, running through the clearing. I wave hello to it, smiling to myself for being so silly. And the clearing was covered with that soft grass that has never been cut, yet only grows up only an inch or so, with a few small trees dotting the area, including my favorite that I would climb all the time
Everything else is different.
The sun is shining brightly here now. It isn’t glaring, but the trees don’t completely wrap around the clearing anymore. On the far side, opening up wide, the clearing gently falls down to the sea, with waves lapping up onto the shore.
Where did the ocean come from?
Part of my mind realizes that this place is impossible. There should be sand, or something else, not grass at the waters edge. But that is how it is. The sun is reflecting off the water and it looks inviting, open, and exposed. Yes, that’s the word that comes to mind - exposed.
Trees do not enclose me anymore in my safe little sanctuary. It has turned into something else, and while it is still as peaceful, as calm, and as loving as baby must feel in his mother’s womb, this place is not what I expected.
Leaning on my staff, I look around some more. The waves make a nice soothing sound, a counterpoint to the stream off to my right. They are singing about something, and have all of eternity to rehearse.
This place is nice. I exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
Ahead of me and to my right I see an outcropping of rock, jutting out over the ocean, providing a wonderful view. Someone is taking advantage of that rock, leaning back and relaxing, seemingly without a care in the world.
It is her.
My heart aches. I missed her so much.
I softly walk to the outcropping, and she turns her head to look at me. Relief washes over me as she gives me a welcoming smile and waves with a lazy hand. After so long an absence, she doesn’t seem upset at all.
I do feel bad for keeping her waiting, and so I keep walking towards her, carefully climbing up onto the rock to sit by her side.
She is exactly as I remember her, and yet I’m still as surprised by her appearance as I was the first time we met. If I had to tell you how I expected her too look, it would not be person I’m seeing now.
The first surprise was her deep ebony skin, so dark it always reminds me of a regal purple, especially as her flawless, well-toned body reflects the blue of the ocean and the gold of the sun. She was like an idealized Cleopatra from the movies, except this woman wasn’t the ruler of a nation; she was just a dear, dear friend.
The other aspect of her that actually surprises me even more was her hair. It was short. Incredibly short, in a tight curls that you almost couldn’t see. I love women with long, flowing hair, and never understood why she kept it this way.
Her style clothing was definitely one that I liked. Oh, sure, it would change occasionally, but not drastically, and she wore clothes with a comfortable air. She knew it accentuated the curves of her body, and she liked who she was. The cotton dress was white this time, with a hint of heather gray. Except for the wide straps her shoulders were bare, and her dress flowed and swirled around her ankles whenever the breeze touched her. On her feet were sandals very similar to mine, but with a heel, and the straps wrapped a few times around and up her ankles. She wore simple silver hoop earrings and silver bangles on her left wrist.
The only bit of color was a pendant she wore on a thin silver chain around her neck. I wish I could tell you what that color is, or even what the pendant’s symbol represents, but I can’t. I can see it clearly in front of me, and I get the feeling of painful beauty, but I just can’t remember what the symbol is or the color. I stare, yet nothing registers.
And that is just like her eyes. One would think that would scare me, but it doesn’t. Really, who can’t tell what color a person’s eyes are? But her eyes I can’t. I know they change like mine do, depending on the light and what I’m wearing, but her eyes aren’t hazel. They are just … something else. Deep and full of expression. Welcoming. I’ve heard people say that a person’s eyes are a window into a their soul. Here, I think they are a reflection of mine.
I still don’t know what to make of her eye color, except that, as before, right now it is unimportant.
“Hello,” I say to her. “It is a beautiful day today.”
She smiles back, “It is a good day.”
And so the ritual begins.
Did you know that I don’t even know her name? All this time, and she has never told me, and I don’t feel comfortable asking. I wonder why?
I open my mouth but she raises her arm to stop me, “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t apologize for not being here for so long.”
“But….” She gives me a look, so I shrug. “You have to admit it has been a while. Don’t you know why I haven’t been here?”
She looks back out over the water, “It doesn’t matter.”
I still feel the need to explain, and she gives me the dignity of listening, “I’m not good at … coming here.” No, that isn’t quite right. “I always feel I have no time to come here. Life is hectic and rushed, and I do so much, that taking this time for myself is hard.”
She gives me a look, but the sound of her voice tempers any sting, “That isn’t the reason.”
As usual, she is right. I continue talking, trying to figure it out myself. “I guess I am afraid.” We both sit there looking out at the ocean for I don’t know how long. I needed the time for my thoughts. “Meditation has always scared me. I try to look at myself, at who I am, and what I do. But meditation is too close to dreams, and mine are always chaotic and frantic. Coming here exposes myself, and even though it is only opening the door to me, to my view, it is hard step to take.”
She touches my shoulder in comfort, “Then why are you writing this down. And more, why do you plan to let the whole world see it?”
I knew she would ask that question even before I began this journey. I’ve asked that of myself. I am an exhibitionist? Does my ego require outside validation?
“Yes, and yes.” She is grinning, “But those are minor reasons. What is the real one?”
“I like writing. I find it cathartic. I also find that it keeps me honest with myself, and a way for me to open up to the people I care about. But the honesty to myself is what is most important.”
“Ah…but are you really being honest? How can you be meditating if you are recording what is happening?” She lowers her hand, her bracelets tinkling like soft bells, and gifts me with a friendly playful smile.
I can’t help but smile back at her, “While this sort of meditation is hard, I’ve learned that other forms of achieving a trance are quite easy for me. If I want to get into a zone, all I have to do, for example, is juggle. I get the same feeling when I’m juggling well, for myself, as I do when I’m here with you, in this place.” My hand moves to encompass my sanctuary. “I’ve also realized that if I do anything with full concentration, the same thing happens. Such as, sometimes, when I am writing in my journal. I am relaxed, and I am here with you, and can see all of this around me. I feel … comfortable.
“Besides,” I grin, “most people will probably just assume this is a story that I’m making up, and therefore it really doesn’t matter what I say, because obviously this couldn’t be real.”
We sit there for a while, just being there with each other, listening to the surf. I see a dolphin play far out in the ocean. There have always been the occasional animals in the forest, so the dolphin in this new ocean doesn’t surprise me.
“Are you happy?” She doesn’t need to turn her head, but I know she has her full attention on me.
That is something I have to consider. Am I happy? Is anyone happy?
“Yes.”
She just laughs at that, and so do I, so I continue. “I can’t believe how lucky I am. I have a wife who amazingly loves me as much as I love her. I have a son now, and I can’t get over how proud I am of him, and he is doing nothing more than drooling and rolling over. I have two wonderful cats. My families on both sides love me. I’ve discovered I have strong friendships, stronger than I new existed, and a strength in me I never had to test before. My career is going well and Elaine and I are providing for a family far beyond any expectation I had when growing up.”
I shift a bit and lean back. “I think that if I died today I wouldn’t regret my life at all, and what I’ve done. I’ve met so many wonderful people who have touched my life and I think I’ve positively touched them too. I’ve been many places and done many things. I’ve started another life and helped others. I so want to do more, but I am content and genuinely thrilled with who I am and how I turned out.
“I’ve also somehow remained an optimist. As a friend of mine helped me figure out recently, I not only recognize that good things happen to me, I expect them to happen.” I shrug. ”Whether it is a realistic view of life or not, I am glad I have that attitude, and it is much better than the alternative.”
I turn to her. “Are you lonely?”
“No.”
I need to understand. “Why not?”
“Are you lonely?” I shake my head no. I am blessed with friends and they are there for me when I need them. On the other hand .. “Exactly. You like having your alone time too. And this place, while it could be lonely, is anything but. And who I am makes it impossible for me to be lonely if you are not.”
I am still a bit sad, “I don’t like leaving you alone. I know you are with me, but I still feel that I abandon you when I’m not here. Perhaps that is another reason why I’m recording this. So that you will be around in another way.”
“Perhaps.”
We look at each other for a long time. “I like what you are doing,” she tells me.
There are so many things she could be referring to. My relationship with my wife and son? How I try to be good to them? That I’ve started doing yoga and want to continue that even when I work out in September after my wrist heals? That I still hope? That I still strive for more, not caring how long it takes? That I still care even when I want to not care?
That I’m finally accepting myself for who I am?
I stretch. I stretch in one of those long luxurious stretches that you feel all throughout your body, from the tip of your toes to your fingertips raised above your head. There is only one answer, “Thank you.”
But was I accepting of myself? I don’t know.
I still hide things, well all do. “I let bits and pieces of myself out. My wife knows so much more than anyone, and I suspect she understands more than she tells me, letting me keep my justifications and illusions while I try to accept who I am. Others are catching on, though, yet they seem to like who I am.”
That brought to the surface a though about a recent event I was at. A fellow who I really only know as an acquaintance said to me, out of the blue, that I was well paired with my Knight because we were both good and honorable people. I was taken aback, because it really had nothing to do with our conversation. Yet he said that.
There is an explanation. “When people like themselves, they are more accepting and understanding of others.” She thinks a moment more and continues, “Not everyone can do that. People can really only see in others what they see in themselves. That is why people accuse others unjustly of lying when they are liars themselves. But if you are kind, you will see kindness in others. Were you able to accept the compliment?”
“Yes, and I did thank him for it. I was proud to hear it, which doesn’t say much for my modesty. No, wait. I wasn’t proud. I was relieved.”
“Go on.” She sits cross-legged and smoothes her skirt around her legs in a big half circle.
I didn’t want to talk.
Unfortunately, she has all the time in the world, and even if I left she would still be there.
Fine.
“I didn’t know he still respected me. I didn’t know his household respected me. I question now who respects me and who doesn’t. My naïve little world gets destroyed every few years, and I’m tired of having to grow up each and every time. It should be enough that I love and that I work hard, shouldn’t it?”
She didn’t need to answer. She never does. Instead, she simply asks the same questions she always does, that she has been asking the entire time, “Can you accept who you are?”
This is working. I desperately need to be here. My eyes water and I answer, “Yes, but only for a moment. I want to be more, so much more. I want to be better, perfect, and never make mistakes. I want the impossible.”
She reaches over and hugs me in her strong, safe arms. We hug each other and I let it go on and on and on. In my ear she whispers what I knew she was going to say, “You can’t be perfect. No one can. All you have to do is never stop trying.”
Because if I ever stop trying, then I won’t be able to accept myself, to look at my face in the mirror. To be someone worthy of the love and friendship I have received.
The sun was starting to set. It always seems to hang in the same place in the sky, yet now it was setting. Together we pull back from our embrace, though our hands still hang on to each other’s arms. I tilt my head to one side, “This it not what I expected we were going to talk about when I thought about this last week.”
She gives me an equally lopsided grin, “It never is.”
She kisses me on the cheek and we stand up, giving each other one last hug. It is time, and I think about …
Heading Back.
I jump off the rock and head back into the woods. I didn’t turn around to look at her as I left. There is no need. We know each other so well. We know where we are. We know who we are.
It doesn’t matter if I never meditate like this again. I realize now that she has always been there, in my life. She will always be here with me, whether I speak to her directly or not. reminding me to try.
I stop suddenly in the woods, with the path continuing in front of me. I look around and feel a huge smile grow on my face.
And, with no hesitation, I turn and walk off of the path.
My lovely wife Elaine sent me a link to an interesting page: Mediamind Brain Profiler. The present a very interesting quiz, consisting of relationships and not of trivia, that “will help you to determine which hemisphere of your brain is dominant. It also determines whether you react in a more auditory or visual manner, another key factor in determining your learning style.” There are twenty questions, and it really only takes about a minute or two to do.
Since I stayed up way to late last night talking with friends, and because I’m preparing for tomorrow’s LA trip, I’m going to be lazy and just post my results.
***
Charles’s Brain Usage Profile
Auditory : 40%
Visual : 60%
Left : 45%
Right : 55%
Charles, you possess an interesting balance of hemispheric and sensory characteristics, with a slight right-brain dominance and a slight preference for visual processing.
Since neither of these is completely centered, you lack the indecision and second-guessing associated with other patterns. You have a distinct preference for creativity and intuition with seemingly sufficient verbal skills to be able to translate in any meaningful way to yourself and others.
You tend to see things in "wholes" without surrendering the ability to attend to details. You can give them sufficient notice to be able to utilize and incorporate them as part of an overall pattern.
In the same way, while you are active and process information simultaneously, you demonstrate a capacity for sequencing as well as reflection which allows for some "inner dialogue."
All in all, you are likely to be quite content with yourself and your style although at times it will not necessarily be appreciated by others. You have sufficient confidence to not second-guess yourself, but rather to use your critical faculties in a way that enhances, rather than limits, your creativity.
[Not appreciated by others…that explains why no one laughs at my jokes!!]
You can learn in either mode although far more efficiently within the visual mode. It is likely that in listening to conversations or lecture materials you simultaneously translate into pictures which enhance and elaborate on the meaning.
It is most likely that you will gravitate towards those endeavors which are predominantly visual but include some logic or structuring. You may either work particularly hard at cultivating your auditory skills or risk "missing out" on being able to efficiently process what you learn. Your own intuitive skills will at times interfere with your capacity to listen to others, which is something else you may need to take into account.
***
Interesting. I don’t how accurate it is, since I’ve been told many times that I’m a good listener. At least, that is what I choose to hear when people comment about me.
Here is part of Elaine’s info.
***
Elaine’s Brain Usage Profile
Auditory 58%
Visual 41%
Left 41%
Right 58%
Elaine, you show a slight right-hemisphere dominance with a moderate preference
for auditory processing, an unusual and somewhat paradoxical combination of
characteristics.
***
They go on to tell her that she is somewhat of a mystic, and that she has a great ability to listen to her own inner voice.
If only her inner voice told her to laugh more at my jokes.
Anyway, if you take the quiz, post your results here. I’d love to peer inside all of your brains!
Last Saturday, while my lovely wife and strong lunged child when to the Celtic festival, I got to help out a friend in Indianapolis by filling in for a missing member of her Commedia del Arte troupe, “i Scandali.”
Commedia is a form of improvisational theater (from the 1500s to the 1700s). The format of the story, the situations, is planned out, along with all the entrances and exits. However, the action and dialog are all improvisation. There is no script to memorize, you just go out there and know what points you need to get across.
Which means that while you know what is going to happen, every show is different, and you can’t guarantee what the other players are going to do.
I was a bit nervous. I’ve never done Commedia before. I was very active in Bedlam, and lately I’ve been doing some improv work, and seem to be quite good at it.
But for this I was expected to just have one rehearsal, and then two weeks later perform. The troupe has been practicing for a while and knows what they are doing. I don’t. I didn’t even have all the character names memorized until last week.
Still, I’ve been looking for such an opportunity. And with my wrist still healing I wasn’t going to be fighting, so what they heck? Three hundred miles is five hour drive, but so what? We must suffer for our art, right?
I had a delightful time.
First, the people. I haven’t fit in with a group of new people so easily in a long time. They were fantastic! Sophia, the director and the friend who got me involved, had us start with some improvisation games (which I love to do), and all of us fit together incredibly well. I had no fear I could play with these people, and they seemed comfortable around me, too.
Second, commedia. I love this. I like acting, but commedia is a blast! Even though I felt lost most of the time, the improv part is a large component of commedia, and I thoroughly enjoyed the entire day! Oh, for those who want to know, I played the part of Pedrolino in “La Schiava Padrona.”
What I didn’t know was that we were going to perform a real show that day in front of an audience! We had done one walk through, then a quick run through, then it was time for the show.
It went quite well. I had come up with some bits that they didn’t do before that they loved, and the interactions were a hoot.
I wasn’t perfect, of course. In the middle of the second act I totally forgot what I was supposed to do, so I looked at the audience and said, “I’m not sure how to help out my master, Oratio. I’ll go and figure out an ingenious plan!” It moved the story along, was funny, and allowed me to go back stage and figure out what to do. Apparently, stuff like that happens all the time!
Afterwards we had a barbeque with the cast, crew, and audience, and we went over our notes. I’m looking forward to our performance at Simple Day in two weeks. If you are there and have some free time, please come and watch!
See Kay, I’m still doing the arts!
On NPR I heard an interesting factoid: since it started less than a month ago, over 25 million phone numbers have been added to the National Do Not Call Registry. If you sign up, then telemarketers (not including Political organizations, charities, telephone surveyors, and the business of insurance) are not allowed to call you and can be fined a significant amount of money if they do.
I’m one of those twenty five million. It makes me wonder why they don’t just put everyone on the list and have you call if you want your dinner interrupted to be told that you can get better long distance, but I guess I know the answer: lobbyists.
I have ranted about this before, but this made me think about it again.
Marketing is, actually, a very good thing. I do want to know when there are products out there that I would like to buy. The crux of the matter is that I only want to know when I want to know. I want to be able to go out and find the information easily, and not have it blasted in my face.
There are many places I get such marketing. Lets go from least annoying to most annoying.
Magazine Ads. I don’t find this annoying at all. I can easily skip over them if I feel like it, but usually they are focused on what I’m interested in. I read Newsweek, and the ads there are of at least glancing interest. Hmm, now that I think about it, though, I don’t know if it has ever affected how my purchases. When I read Dragon magazine, all the ads were gaming related, and those ads did have an effect on me. They also let me know which new books were out that I would want to read. So, magazine ads are my favorite form of advertising.
Television. And this, in fact, annoying. I can’t watch a movie on TNT without 15% of it cut because of commercials. In general, however, I don’t mind commercials so much because, well, it means I don’t have to pay for broadcast television. I also don’t mind unobtrusive product placement. Not only does it help pay for the show, but it makes the show more real because they are using actual products. What I hate is when shows are advertised while other shows are on – usually with flashing motion that rips my eyes away from Courtney Cox’s alcoves. Still, I can always tape the show and skip over regular commercials. I can also turn the television off, or buy DVDs of my shows and watch them without any breaks or intrusions. I even subscribe to HBO, which amounts to the same thing.
Billboards. I drive a lot to SCA events, and there are billboards everywhere. I don’t like how they break up a nice view of the countryside, but, on the other hand, sometimes it is nice to have something to read while I’m driving. But only rarely, as I’m listening to music, talking on the phone, eating a burger, smoking, and trying to sleep while I’m driving anyway. For me, billboards do serve a purpose on long trips as I can figure out where I’m going to eat my next meal.
Postal Mail. I get lots of junk mail. Fortunately, I don’t get pounds and pounds of junk mail. I also only get mail once a day. So on my way from the mailbox to the living room, I pass by the trashcan, and the junk mail has that long to intrigue me to open it up and look at it. I got interested in Popular Science that way. I also save pizza ads and their coupons. I get tons and tons of catalogues, but I like shopping for catalogues, so that isn’t junk for me (well, some are, but those I just toss). They key points here as to why I’m not annoyed is that the mail only gets delivered once a day, and the amount is so small I don’t really care. This is because, and read carefully, it costs business money to mail me a flier. They can spam the whole country, but it will cost them money, so they have to have some good marketing reason to do so in the first place, which cuts down on the amount tremendously.
Email Spam. I hate this, and I’ve ranted about this before. Over 80% of my email now is spam. I can delete it quickly, and fortunately I’ve made it so they can’t pop anything up, but honestly, the number of spam is staggering, and at work I’m tired of seeing pornographic spam! Someone please stop it! The main reason why it is so easy for people to do this is that it doesn’t cost any money to send a billion emails. I really hope that the day will come when Marcus can get an Internet account and not be subject to emails telling him how to increase his breast size. At least, though, if I’m not on my computer, I don’t get any spam.
Telemarketers. This is the worst. I get less phone calls than spam, but telemarketers interrupt my life at their schedule. They even have robots calling me to waste my time. Like spam, I have not once, ever, purchased anything from a telemarketer. I even bought a telezapper, but now they are coming out with technology to get around it, even though they claim they don’t want to call people who don’t want to speak with them. Listen up buddy, if I got a freaking telezapper, then I obviously don’t want you to call me! I’m hoping that so many people sign up to the registry that they get the message and stop calling. Unfortunately, I think that the ten people who don’t sign up are going to have their phones ringing off their hooks.
That still leads to a problem: how do you find out about products you may be interested in? Or worse, if you have a product, what do you do?
I don’t want to say “just go to Amazon” because then only the big well established companies will get business. If you were a new company with a great product, there would be no way for you to get the word out.
One solution would be what I do for new computer games. There are places I go to, online, and from word of mouth, to find games that I might be interested in. And these reviewing sites look not only at the major game developers, but new independent ones too. So if I want to find out about stuff, I go looking for it. I can stop at stores. I can search online.
Then again, I don’t want to stop marketing. I think companies should be able to do more than print ads. But how can we balance that with my desire for privacy in my own home?
The following is a public service announcement from the Slacker's Weblog System. This is only an announcement.
Just because I do not update my weblog does not mean that I am a slacker, naer-do-well, scallywag, or that I don't love you.
It is just that I am under a mountain of work, and I am desperately looking for a shovel.
This ends this public service announcement from the Slacker's Weblog System.
Had this been an actual log entry, you would have been laughing so hard, tears would have fallen down your cheeks. Also, you'd be entertained so well you would have realized you no longer need your television and thrown it out the window.
I haven’t written about Marcus Man in a while, which means, of course, that things are going pretty well. If his head had exploded or if he discovered how to stick his fingers in his socket to electrocute the cats, I would have had an amusing, if terrifying, story to tell here.
But I also use this journal as a sporadic sort of diary, so here you go.
As of June 26th, he weighed 17.6 pounds, was 26.75 inches long and had a head circumference of 43.9 cm (we don’t know why his head is metric while the rest of him is not). For each of these, this put him in the 50th percentile for his age. I have an average child!!!
He is coming up on seven months now.
Seven months.
I knew time flew, but really, wasn’t it yesterday when Elaine and I were in the hospital, and I was looking at the Threshold of Pain on her contraction chart? How can time fly so fast? I remember the weeks and months, and get thrilled at all the stuff we do, but still, seven months??
I’ve given up blinking for fear that if I do, he’ll ask me for the car keys.
He has made wonderful progress, even though it is quite standard for a child of his age.
He rolls over in both directions all on his own. He can track the cats as they walk by. He grabs things quite easily and knows what he is looking for. When in a sitting position, he can keep himself in that position for long periods of time. He can’t sit up on his own, though.
The other day when he was in his walker, he was facing Elaine and I called to him. He looked at me, and then figured out that to get to me he needed to back up, turn, then move forward.
Elaine and I picked each other’s jaws off the ground.
Marcus can pull himself up to standing with help from me. It is one of his favorite games. He also, if you look at the pictures on his page, has the most beautiful smile. In general, he seems to be a very happy baby.
Oh, we’ve started him on more solids. He tried bananas and doesn’t seem to like them, but he does like oatmeal. He’s also drinking water from a sippy-cup, though he hasn’t fully figured out that technology yet.
Marcus is also very good at banging on the keyboard and typing out gibberish, which puts his literary skills about three levels above this blog.
He likes to look at pictures when we read to him. This is offset by the fact that he likes to also try to eat the book when we read to him.
Marcus still doesn’t sleep through the night, even on those rare days he doesn’t take any naps. We are really looking forward to the time when he does sleep all night long. I predict that will happen as soon as Elaine gives birth to our second child. (And no, she isn’t pregnant…give us some time!)
He chatters quite a bit. He hasn’t said any words yet, but Marcus definitely has something to say when he is playing or babbling to us in the morning. I know this will come back to haunt me, but I’m looking forward to when we can verbally communicate.
Mainly because I have a whole list of jokes I want him to tell Mommy.
I crossed a line yesterday, all because a mug slipped out of my hand.
I was going to someone’s office for a chat and my Little Mermaid mug slipped out of my hand and shattered into 8 large pieces and 103 tiny ones.
This was not a great way to start my day.
Considering my slight well under control interest in The Little Mermaid and all things Ariel, I didn’t take it too badly.
Unfortunately, my other Ariel mug (of course I have more than one…at work…) has a chip on it at the lip, so while I’m using that, I’m not too happy about it.
So I went online in search of new mugs. I’ve always looked in Disney stores for the mugs – I pass by them when I travel through the Orlando Airport four times a year – but for some reason Disney stores don’t make much for adults anymore. Therefore, no coffee mugs.
I checked on line, including the Disney Store online, and no luck. I Googled, and there was one place that had lots of mugs: eBay.
It was time for me to bite the bullet. So yesterday I got not only an eBay account, but also a PayPal account. I’ve finally moved into the late 1990’s.
Searching a bit, I found two mugs for sale. I placed a bid.
It was as exciting as opening up Magic the Gathering card packages. Which, for you non-geeks out there, means that it was highly addictive and fun.
I could easily see myself spending a ton of money on eBay.
I have to admit, eBay makes it very easy to bid on items. You specify a maximum amount (in this case, I put down $10), and it will incrementally bid up a certain percentage until you hit your maximum or until you are the higher bid, whichever is lower. At first I had the higher bid, then I was outbid, and I decided that I would spend $20. That moved my high bid to $12.50, and last night I won!
I transferred the money via PayPal, and in about a week I should have two brand new Ariel mugs.
And thus my first step down the road to hell that is online bidding has begun.
Elaine and I love to go to the movies. So it should come to no surprise that when my parents came here to visit the Marcus Man, we would take the opportunity to see some movies! And here are some reviews, in order of viewing.
Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines.
Was it worth seeing? Yes. Was it good? Yes. Was it better than the first two terminators? No. In fact, it pales in comparison. I’m sure what was missing. The pacing felt odd, as did the story, and that shows me that I did miss James Cameron’s influence. The Terminatrix (don’t you just love that word – and the spell check tells me the word should be Terminator and Dominatrix, so good job to the writers for picking it!) was just a combination of Arnold’s T-101 and the T-1000. So sure, she had extra weapons and stuff, and a couple of other clever tricks, but it just seemed, well, tired, I guess.
On the other hand, the Terminatrix was hot (even though her hair was down only once), and the “Arnold Terminator gets his clothing” scene is worth the price of admission alone. The chase scenes are definitely fun to watch and exciting. However, ah, this is it, I felt no danger for the characters at all, unlike in the first two movies.
I guess another disappointment is that I’ve been reading some Terminator novels by the fantastic author S. M. Sterling. This series is amazing, and totally where the movie should have gone after the second movie…or at least, the books would have made an excellent bridge to the third, if the third was written right.
Let’s just say that the John Connor in T3 did not, for me, logically develop from the first two movies. I expected a leader, not some whiney brat complaining that he couldn’t go with his friends to join the rebels and fight the Empire.
It seems obvious that there will be a T4, and I’ll probably go see that too.
We saw this on Thursday. Since day care was open that day, my parents got to join us, and Patrick came along too. As we were walking out of the theater I noticed that the signs which indicated which movie was playing it which theater had shorted a movie to “Legally Blo.” My Mom noticed what the movie across the hall was (and inline with the sign I read), and said, “Ah, Legally Blo The Hulk.” That was when Patrick exclaimed that she was definitely related to me.
This was our favorite movie that we saw, which we got to see on Friday. Great characters, wonderful plot, believable reactions, and unexpected plot twists that kept us very interested and entertained. Basically, thieves pull of a heist in Italy, and then have to follow it up later in Los Angeles. The only unbelievable parts were that people would actually believe that 1) the cable company would come out to your house ten minutes after you call, and 2) that cable repair people are as hot as Charlize Theron. I highly recommend this movie.
Legally Blo…er…Legally Blonde: Red White and Blonde.
Elaine and I had the choice between this movie and Bruce Almighty today. I left the choice up to her and we saw this. Now, I have to admit, we really loved the first movie. It took itself seriously enough, Reese Witherspoon’s character was highly intelligent, and you could believe everything that happened.
This time, while the movie was enjoyable, it also went way over the top. There is no possible way congress would act the way it did. Sure, Witherspoon’s character was still highly intelligent and definitely not clueless, but I really doubt she, or anyone, would get that much accomplished on Capitol Hill in only a few months. Maybe I’m cynical, but most of the arguments used against her were, well, correct.
I think they could have made an excellent, more realistic movie about a woman who, although she is incredibly into fashion, is still a smart, savvy, lawyer who actually has an effect on Capitol Hill, without events that seem more outrageous than machines encased in living tissue traveling back in time.
The best part was a joke they did that had a special hilarious effect on us. Elle and her husband are in different cities and watching “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington.” (Hmm, do you think Legally Blonde 2 was based on Mr. Smith??). Her husband is imitating Jimmy Stewart, and Elle says, “Hey, were you doing a Sean Connery impersonation?”
Okay, I realize you don’t think that is very funny. But I constantly do both those impersonations, and while I’m quite good at impersonating Jimmy, whenever I attempt to do a Sean Connery, it morphs into Jimmy Stewart. So we found that comparison hilarious!
I guess you had to be there, and live with me and Elaine. I’m kinda glad you don’t! It was great to see so many movies, and to have time to ourselves. I’m glad our parents were able to visit, and grateful that they watched over Marcus while we could get out. Elaine’s parents also do that for us quite frequently. It is good to have family.
It may come as a surprise to many of you that I am a huge fan of the movie, The Little Mermaid … er, right. Okay, I guess it is no surprise at all, considering I have more Ariel paraphernalia that a dozen ten year old girls.
Because of my, um, mild interest in that movie, one might believe that my fondest memory of the dearly departed Buddy Hackett would be his role as Scuttle in The Little Mermaid.
While he was excellent in that role, that gig isn’t what immediately comes to mind when I think of him.
I have this memory of him from when I was a child. I have no idea if it was high school or middle school, so let’s just say I was in my early teens. My parents took me to see a vaudeville type show in (or near) Philadelphia, and it starred Mr. Hackett.
As a young impressionable youth, Mr. Hackett taught me something that, at the time, came as a complete and utter shock to me. I will share this with you now.
Adults are utterly and completely obsessed with sex.
I know, I know. I can hear a chorus of people out there saying “well, duh!” But think about it. You are twelve or thirteen, and you know you are thinking about that cute someone in your class and getting all hot and bothered, and wondering what the heck is going on with your body. Meanwhile, you don’t see any adults kiss (except in the movies, and back in the late 70s and early 80s, none of the movies I saw had much kissing – Dirty Harry certainly didn’t do much kissing!), and they never ever discussed sex or cursed in front of the fragile children. There were no Victoria’s Secret commercials on television, let alone shows like Sex In The City. Heck, the Brady adults slept in separate beds!
Buddy Hackett shattered that illusion. His routine was not just full of sexual innuendo (more than half of which probably went over my head, and probably still would), but it was full of explicit sexual references and anecdotes. And the audience was lapping it up, so all of them got it, which meant that everyone was hopelessly addicted to sex, mating, and fornicating. If his routine was any indications, men and women were also obsessed with various body parts and how they could be combined in odd and interesting ways. Who knew??
He also cursed. A lot. I had recalled seeing him on Carson and the like, and of course he didn’t curse on television. But in this show? Oh dear lord, he used every four-letter word I’ve ever known, and quite a few more that he probably made up.
I knew that he was doing a bunch of Vaudeville routines, and, being a math prodigy, I put two and two together and figured out that, before television and movies, people were probably thinking about sex back then too.
I was, quite frankly, shocked. A whole new world was opened up to me, and a lot more of it suddenly made sense. I noticed a heck of a lot more of what was going around me thanks to Buddy Hackett.
A friend of mine said that he learned the most about sexual activities, when he was younger than ten, from Monty Python’s Flying Circus. My awakening came from Buddy Hackett.
And thank goodness it did. If it weren’t for his jokes, I would have never had understood Shakespeare the first time I read him. I also learned a lot of words that stood me well in my fraternity days.
So, thank you Mr. Hackett. Your show was not only highly entertaining, but also unexpectedly educational.
Thinking about it now, I am quite confident that if Buddy Hackett were to learn that a teenaged boy had a sexual epiphany because of his show, I’m sure his modest, measured, and responsible response would have been, “Well, its about fucking time!”