START TIME: 9:48 PM
END TIME: 11:07 PM
WORD COUNT: 684
“Last week, I asked you to define confidence, which you did while providing various examples of varying levels of confidence. Assess your own level of confidence while noting which of those examples you have done.” –Ken Faikus
READER’S NOTE:
(I attempted a Slaughterhouse doubleheader last week, and what I came up with as a response to Ken’s two-word request – “Define confidence” made me laugh as I was doing it and for a couple minutes after, which is generally how much time I assess these until I see the responses come back. I was having more fun just playing with the words and concept than writing anything impassioned, and rather than answering anything, what resulted was closer to meringue.
Since the document in question is at http://jameslyden.blogspot.com/2009/04/slaughterhouse-17.html, I’m not going to quote myself for something that’s just short of a week old. If you’re not familiar with the examples, check it out. Thanks!)
Confidence is like height; you can never have enough. And I certainly haven’t. I can obsess over whether or not something has gone the way that I planned it and why it hasn’t, regardless of whether or not it’s a vacation, a triathlon, or even one of these Friday night exercises in pulling thoughts out of my brain. If I had more confidence it wouldn’t matter. The whole point of Slaughterhouse is to find a voice and an audience; it’s all about the confidence I don’t have smashed into the oversized ego that I’ve already got.
My favorite adjective is “precise.” I like structure, because that gives me confidence; a feeling that there are aspects of even the most basic social interaction that I can control. Give me a time and that’s exactly when I’ll be there. Give me “between 7:15 and 7:30” and I’m there at 7:23. I’m not above driving around the block if I’m three minutes early, or picking up more Listerine strips at the nearest 7-Eleven if I’m 15 minutes early. You can bet I’ve been to the restaurant already, I know what’s on the menu, and that I’ve already driven the route, even if I printed the directions. It sounds idiotic, but I’d rather you not see me get flustered or look capable of human error.
This can get in the way of actual entertainment; I’m aware that I get tense when it looks as if life is veering towards new levels of spontaneity. I like trying new things but completely lack any semblance of confidence when multiple variables are introduced. There’s too many ways for me to look like a moron and my mind’s too occupied not to care.
I’ve been guilty of all five definitions at one time or another; I think all of us, as members of humanity, have done so. The one that I think I’m most frequently guilty of is underconfidence – I spend a lot of time dealing with self-doubt. (This led to me doing something overconfident – the example of “making reservations for Valentine’s Day without a girlfriend” was the real deal; there were maybe four people in the world who I would have welcomed to that venue on that night, and I wasn’t alone because I had to be.)
All of the Trivial Pursuit scenarios come from actual game play with my family, and I’ve done all of them except been underconfident. In fact, that’s one of those situations where I’m completely insufferable and hypercompetitive. If you’ve ever asked yourself the question, “Where does he come up with this stuff?” set up a trivia deathmatch and watch me drift into the same location in my brain that I disappear at about the two-hour mark of a race, where the outside world no longer has any meaning. I’ll have no regard for feelings, teammates, or anything. I’ll handle it poorly. I promise. I’ll win, too, but that’s beside the point.
But that’s based in confidence. Knowing irrelevant things is more of a talent for me than anything else I do. You have a better chance of outrunning me on a bicycle than beating me at Trivial Pursuit. I know the odds of both. (And the only thing that I know about horse racing is that I don’t make any money betting on it, so I refrain from doing so.)
But that’s an extremely narrow segment of life. I’d rather know that I can tell a funny story and the people around me will think so than know what the Saudi Arabian flag looks like. I’d rather know that I could get away with saying the words I was more comfortable writing to someone once upon a time than knowing that I’m going to pass that chump who took the wrong line at the curve about 30 yards ahead of me. I would have an easier time if I didn’t overthink the chances I didn’t take. I’ve spent a lifetime trying to find out if I learn anything, or just revisit it over and over. I’ll let you know if I get the answer right.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Writing Project Update
Words this week: 3000, almost all of them towards the fitness project, including a tentative title, which I'm thinking of calling "You've Got Right Now: A Guide to Changing Your Personal Fitness From The Eyebrows Down."
Responses to last week's topic: 2.
This week's entries: 3 (Susan, Ken, Ken)
This week's question: "Last week, I asked you to define confidence, which you did while providing various examples of varying levels of confidence. Assess your own level of confidence while noting which of those examples you have done."
500 WORDS ON THIS TOPIC DUE BY: 4/25 midnight Friday/Saturday
Responses to last week's topic: 2.
This week's entries: 3 (Susan, Ken, Ken)
This week's question: "Last week, I asked you to define confidence, which you did while providing various examples of varying levels of confidence. Assess your own level of confidence while noting which of those examples you have done."
500 WORDS ON THIS TOPIC DUE BY: 4/25 midnight Friday/Saturday
Friday, April 17, 2009
Slaughterhouse 17
Slaughterhouse 17
START TIME:10:51 PM
END TIME: 11:38 PM
WORD COUNT: 592
"Define confidence." - Ken Faikus
Confidence is an innate and powerful faith that you have in yourself, your abilities, or others and their abilities that is borne out of prior relevant experience or something close to it.
Arrogance is an innate and powerful faith that you have in yourself, your abilities, or others and their abilities that has no basis in prior relevant experience or anything close to it.
Misplaced confidence is an innate and powerful faith that you have in yourself, your abilities, or others and their abilities that is borne out what you feel is prior relevant experience, but actually was miscalculated.
Overconfidence is a is an innate and powerful faith that you have in yourself, your abilities, or others and their abilities that rests on prior relevant experience, the facts of which time or circumstance has rendered moot.
Underconfidence is the result of overestimating an opponent’s abilities or doubting one’s own.
But that’s way too many definitions. Let’s give you some examples.
Confidence is making the dinner reservations before you make the date.
Arrogance is booking the hotel weekend before you’ve met the woman.
Overconfidence is making reservations for Valentine’s Day without a girlfriend.
Misplaced confidence is booking anything when the woman starts telling you what she doesn’t like about her boyfriend.
Underconfidence is cancelling those reservations because she needs a ride after she’s thrown all of his possessions onto the lawn.
Confidence is betting the 4 horse in the third race because you’ve seen him race well before.
Overconfidence is betting the 4 horse in the third race because you’ve always picked the third race correctly.
Underconfidence is shying away from the betting window when the 4 horse in the third race is up against a field of Chihuahuas.
Misplaced confidence is betting the 4 horse in the third race because he won his last race by 43 lengths, though no mention was made on the racing form that the rest of the field fell into a sinkhole at the ¼ mile post.
Arrogance is placing a late side bet for one of the horses that fell into the sinkhole to place.
Confidence is answering Trivial Pursuit questions without a lilt at the end of the answer that indicates you are asking if you’re right? as opposed to Declaring You Are Right.
Overconfidence is picking up the dice before you’ve found out if you’ve answered the Trivial Pursuit question correctly.
Arrogance is rolling them before you’ve found out if you’ve answered the Trivial Pursuit question correctly.
Misplaced confidence is having read the wrong answer from the back of a poorly concealed card that the questioner was reading.
Underconfidence is handing the dice to the person next to you while you try to come up with the answer.
Confidence is walking up to her, looking her in the eye, and asking if she’s busy Saturday night.
Overconfidence is walking up to her, looking her in the eye, and asking if she’s busy Saturday night on Saturday afternoon.
Arrogance is walking up to her, looking her in the eye, and asking if she’s busy Saturday night as she’s with another man on the dance floor on a Saturday at 9 PM.
Misplaced confidence is walking up to her, looking her in the eye, and asking if she’s busy Saturday night before the officers lead you into a holding cell on Friday night.
Underconfidence is walking up to her, looking her in the eye, and asking if she’s busy Saturday night when you’ve been married to each other for three years.
START TIME:10:51 PM
END TIME: 11:38 PM
WORD COUNT: 592
"Define confidence." - Ken Faikus
Confidence is an innate and powerful faith that you have in yourself, your abilities, or others and their abilities that is borne out of prior relevant experience or something close to it.
Arrogance is an innate and powerful faith that you have in yourself, your abilities, or others and their abilities that has no basis in prior relevant experience or anything close to it.
Misplaced confidence is an innate and powerful faith that you have in yourself, your abilities, or others and their abilities that is borne out what you feel is prior relevant experience, but actually was miscalculated.
Overconfidence is a is an innate and powerful faith that you have in yourself, your abilities, or others and their abilities that rests on prior relevant experience, the facts of which time or circumstance has rendered moot.
Underconfidence is the result of overestimating an opponent’s abilities or doubting one’s own.
But that’s way too many definitions. Let’s give you some examples.
Confidence is making the dinner reservations before you make the date.
Arrogance is booking the hotel weekend before you’ve met the woman.
Overconfidence is making reservations for Valentine’s Day without a girlfriend.
Misplaced confidence is booking anything when the woman starts telling you what she doesn’t like about her boyfriend.
Underconfidence is cancelling those reservations because she needs a ride after she’s thrown all of his possessions onto the lawn.
Confidence is betting the 4 horse in the third race because you’ve seen him race well before.
Overconfidence is betting the 4 horse in the third race because you’ve always picked the third race correctly.
Underconfidence is shying away from the betting window when the 4 horse in the third race is up against a field of Chihuahuas.
Misplaced confidence is betting the 4 horse in the third race because he won his last race by 43 lengths, though no mention was made on the racing form that the rest of the field fell into a sinkhole at the ¼ mile post.
Arrogance is placing a late side bet for one of the horses that fell into the sinkhole to place.
Confidence is answering Trivial Pursuit questions without a lilt at the end of the answer that indicates you are asking if you’re right? as opposed to Declaring You Are Right.
Overconfidence is picking up the dice before you’ve found out if you’ve answered the Trivial Pursuit question correctly.
Arrogance is rolling them before you’ve found out if you’ve answered the Trivial Pursuit question correctly.
Misplaced confidence is having read the wrong answer from the back of a poorly concealed card that the questioner was reading.
Underconfidence is handing the dice to the person next to you while you try to come up with the answer.
Confidence is walking up to her, looking her in the eye, and asking if she’s busy Saturday night.
Overconfidence is walking up to her, looking her in the eye, and asking if she’s busy Saturday night on Saturday afternoon.
Arrogance is walking up to her, looking her in the eye, and asking if she’s busy Saturday night as she’s with another man on the dance floor on a Saturday at 9 PM.
Misplaced confidence is walking up to her, looking her in the eye, and asking if she’s busy Saturday night before the officers lead you into a holding cell on Friday night.
Underconfidence is walking up to her, looking her in the eye, and asking if she’s busy Saturday night when you’ve been married to each other for three years.
Slaughterhouse doubleheader tonight!
Yep, we're going for two. Stats are the same as they were an hour ago. I have to close this out by midnight:
"Define confidence." - Ken Faikus
Due by 10/18 12 AM Friday/Saturday midnight
"Define confidence." - Ken Faikus
Due by 10/18 12 AM Friday/Saturday midnight
Slaughterhouse 16
START TIME: 9:22 PM
END TIME: 10:24 PM
WORD COUNT: 763
“If the lore and legend of the Chicago Cubs supersedes regular baseball play itself, why has there been no iconic or classic baseball movie made using the Cubs as a backdrop? The best I can think of is the bit part it plays in the Blues Brothers and Ferris Bueller. But those are movies about Chicago first. The Twins, the Indians, the Yankees, and the Red Sox all have theirs. Where is the homage to what may be considered the Holy Grail of Hollywood Demographics: the widest range of people willing to throw money at something regardless of whether it sucks? Is it possible to make this movie?” -Beth Badrov
I had a couple things run through my head when I first saw this question. The first was, “That movie “Rookie of the Year,” with the kid who could throw 140, had him on the Cubs, but it didn't really matter because that wasn't ABOUT the Cubs. The kid could have been wearing a Durham Bulls shirt and it would have been the same story. Wrigley was used as a backdrop in “League of their Own” and “Eight Men Out” so there has been a movie made about a women’s league and the Black Sox before an iconic Cubs movie."
The second thing that ran through my head was the iconic Cubs movie isn’t a movie; it’s the play. It’s “Bleacher Bums” by Joe Mantegna. That’s what gets romanticized about the Cubs; it has nothing to do with the players on the field. Who was the last Cubs PLAYER that had any sort of national prominence? That’s right, Cubs fans. It was Sammy Sosa. Yep, Sam-ME-no-speak-English-pass-the-Flintstones-vitamins-corked-bat-swing-at-a-58-foot-pitch Sosa. You could not approach someone who does not follow baseball and ask them to name a Cubs player.
The romance with the Cubs from a nationwide standpoint assumes that the ballpark is the same as it was 20 years ago. It is not. Those aren’t charming neighborhood residents watching from the rooftops; they’re corporate swine, same level of money as the idiots in the CBOE Options seats right behind home plate, deducting their Old Styles as a business expense. That’s no longer a Torco sign in right field, which was there originally because Ron Santo’s uncle was a distributor. That EAMUS CATULI nonsense, yet another pathetic attempt to get on television, has been there for a decade. Wrigley is an exercise in commoditized worship by sheep, and the sheep are famous.
The sheep are famous because the pattern of available television programming in the 1980s, the last generation to follow baseball on a consistent, growing basis, featured three teams on basic cable – the Cubs, the New York Mets on WOR, and the Atlanta Braves on TBS. All across the fruited plain kids came home from school or spent their summer vacations watching Chicago Cubs baseball. And the product on the field during the 1980s? It was sporting a .472 winning percentage. They did not have charismatic management (if you don’t count Lee Elia) so what could you sell? The geniuses at WGN sold sunshine, Harry, and the ballpark.
There are few things that speak to summertime in Chicago more clearly than a shot of a fly ball into the outfield with the ivy in bloom, guys in the bleachers shirtless and the women wearing just enough to stay on this side of legality. I’m not even a fan and I still had a hilarious moment upon moving out to Las Vegas, watching a Cubs game on television in April. It was gray. The ivy was still a bundle of sticks. The players were blowing on their hands between pitches, and I thought to myself, “Wow. Glad I’m not outside.” Then I looked out and remembered I’d moved, it was 75 and sunny, and all was well.
It’s that mystique that prevents the movie from being made. It would have to be made in the summer, to get the right feel for it – the way that they did in “Ferris Bueller” which intercut game footage with the scene of them in the stands. (No trouble getting in for a fall movie shoot in 1985, by the way – the Cubs finished 23.5 games out that year.)
The Yankees have winning and tradition. The Red Sox had losing. The Indians still do. The Cubs…have losing and a very pretty ballpark. The ballpark is prettiest when the team occupying it is playing baseball in the daytime – a hard thing to shoot. (The crowd scenes for Major League were filmed at County Stadium in Milwaukee in July starting at 9 PM and going until 4 AM.) Unless the Cubs play someplace with consistent light and neighbors willing to tolerate overnight movie shoots, a film, like the Cubs’ Series chances this year, isn’t gonna happen.
END TIME: 10:24 PM
WORD COUNT: 763
“If the lore and legend of the Chicago Cubs supersedes regular baseball play itself, why has there been no iconic or classic baseball movie made using the Cubs as a backdrop? The best I can think of is the bit part it plays in the Blues Brothers and Ferris Bueller. But those are movies about Chicago first. The Twins, the Indians, the Yankees, and the Red Sox all have theirs. Where is the homage to what may be considered the Holy Grail of Hollywood Demographics: the widest range of people willing to throw money at something regardless of whether it sucks? Is it possible to make this movie?” -Beth Badrov
I had a couple things run through my head when I first saw this question. The first was, “That movie “Rookie of the Year,” with the kid who could throw 140, had him on the Cubs, but it didn't really matter because that wasn't ABOUT the Cubs. The kid could have been wearing a Durham Bulls shirt and it would have been the same story. Wrigley was used as a backdrop in “League of their Own” and “Eight Men Out” so there has been a movie made about a women’s league and the Black Sox before an iconic Cubs movie."
The second thing that ran through my head was the iconic Cubs movie isn’t a movie; it’s the play. It’s “Bleacher Bums” by Joe Mantegna. That’s what gets romanticized about the Cubs; it has nothing to do with the players on the field. Who was the last Cubs PLAYER that had any sort of national prominence? That’s right, Cubs fans. It was Sammy Sosa. Yep, Sam-ME-no-speak-English-pass-the-Flintstones-vitamins-corked-bat-swing-at-a-58-foot-pitch Sosa. You could not approach someone who does not follow baseball and ask them to name a Cubs player.
The romance with the Cubs from a nationwide standpoint assumes that the ballpark is the same as it was 20 years ago. It is not. Those aren’t charming neighborhood residents watching from the rooftops; they’re corporate swine, same level of money as the idiots in the CBOE Options seats right behind home plate, deducting their Old Styles as a business expense. That’s no longer a Torco sign in right field, which was there originally because Ron Santo’s uncle was a distributor. That EAMUS CATULI nonsense, yet another pathetic attempt to get on television, has been there for a decade. Wrigley is an exercise in commoditized worship by sheep, and the sheep are famous.
The sheep are famous because the pattern of available television programming in the 1980s, the last generation to follow baseball on a consistent, growing basis, featured three teams on basic cable – the Cubs, the New York Mets on WOR, and the Atlanta Braves on TBS. All across the fruited plain kids came home from school or spent their summer vacations watching Chicago Cubs baseball. And the product on the field during the 1980s? It was sporting a .472 winning percentage. They did not have charismatic management (if you don’t count Lee Elia) so what could you sell? The geniuses at WGN sold sunshine, Harry, and the ballpark.
There are few things that speak to summertime in Chicago more clearly than a shot of a fly ball into the outfield with the ivy in bloom, guys in the bleachers shirtless and the women wearing just enough to stay on this side of legality. I’m not even a fan and I still had a hilarious moment upon moving out to Las Vegas, watching a Cubs game on television in April. It was gray. The ivy was still a bundle of sticks. The players were blowing on their hands between pitches, and I thought to myself, “Wow. Glad I’m not outside.” Then I looked out and remembered I’d moved, it was 75 and sunny, and all was well.
It’s that mystique that prevents the movie from being made. It would have to be made in the summer, to get the right feel for it – the way that they did in “Ferris Bueller” which intercut game footage with the scene of them in the stands. (No trouble getting in for a fall movie shoot in 1985, by the way – the Cubs finished 23.5 games out that year.)
The Yankees have winning and tradition. The Red Sox had losing. The Indians still do. The Cubs…have losing and a very pretty ballpark. The ballpark is prettiest when the team occupying it is playing baseball in the daytime – a hard thing to shoot. (The crowd scenes for Major League were filmed at County Stadium in Milwaukee in July starting at 9 PM and going until 4 AM.) Unless the Cubs play someplace with consistent light and neighbors willing to tolerate overnight movie shoots, a film, like the Cubs’ Series chances this year, isn’t gonna happen.
Writing Project Update
Words this week: 2800. Major contributions to both Implosion and the fitness project, fueled by new venom, new insight, and a feeling of a little bit smoother sailing. There was also a lot of email. I'm entering an "up" phase and it's time to take advantage.
Responses to last week's topic: 1.
This week's entries: 4 (Julie, Beth, Ken, Beth)
This week, because I wasn't all that crazy about my performance as of late, there are two Slaughterhouse entries.
This week's first question: "If the lore and legend of the Chicago Cubs supersedes regular baseball play itself, why has there been no iconic or classic baseball movie made using the Cubs as a backdrop?
The best I can think of is the bit part it plays in the Blues Brothers and Ferris Bueller. But those are movies about Chicago first. The Twins, the Indians, the Yankees, and the Red Sox all have theirs. Where is the homage to what may be considered the Holy Grail of Hollywood Demographics: the widest range of people willing to throw money at something regardless of whether it sucks?
Is it possible to make this movie?" - Beth Badrov
500 WORDS ON THIS TOPIC DUE BY: 4/18 midnight Friday/Saturday
Responses to last week's topic: 1.
This week's entries: 4 (Julie, Beth, Ken, Beth)
This week, because I wasn't all that crazy about my performance as of late, there are two Slaughterhouse entries.
This week's first question: "If the lore and legend of the Chicago Cubs supersedes regular baseball play itself, why has there been no iconic or classic baseball movie made using the Cubs as a backdrop?
The best I can think of is the bit part it plays in the Blues Brothers and Ferris Bueller. But those are movies about Chicago first. The Twins, the Indians, the Yankees, and the Red Sox all have theirs. Where is the homage to what may be considered the Holy Grail of Hollywood Demographics: the widest range of people willing to throw money at something regardless of whether it sucks?
Is it possible to make this movie?" - Beth Badrov
500 WORDS ON THIS TOPIC DUE BY: 4/18 midnight Friday/Saturday
Friday, April 10, 2009
Slaughterhouse 15
START TIME: 9:45 PM
END TIME: 10:52 PM
WORD COUNT: 541
"Cultural axioms tell us that we’ll never be able to physically feel like we did when we were younger. Do you think it’s possible to feel physically younger as we grow older?"
“Youth is wasted on the young.” –George Bernard Shaw
I have a few different takes on this. First off, I can say from personal experience that it’s possible. I feel younger at 33 than I did at 23, and a lot of that has to do with the fact that I’m 80 pounds lighter. I have more energy than I did then, and there’s a new sense of possibility that I didn’t have from a physical standpoint at the time. So in a very literal sense, that’s true.
That said, there’s a certain amount of wear and tear that your body is forced to absorb, mentally as well as physically. Right now I can run for 13 miles after two or seven gin and tonics, but I know that moment will pass. I know that when I was 15 and playing in a tennis tournament six miles away, riding my bicycle to the event and making the conscious decision to tank the last set so I’d have something for the ride home, I couldn’t even think of doing that now (and seeing as I now own a vehicle and could drive it, I wouldn't have to try). I remember playing basketball every morning for months, for hours at a time, leaving my legs in so much pain that I would crawl out of bed to the Advil bottle. I haven’t taken more than 10 Advil per year for the past three years.
While I was doing that, though, something I wasn’t burdened down by was the nagging obligation that I should be doing something else, like being a parent or a network technician or better organized or more productive. I wasn’t putting off chores or laundry or all of the nagging little responsibilities that come with being an adult. Years ago, when planning a rather outsize evening and facing some good-natured criticism about it being a shade excessive, I pointed out that, sooner than we all cared to be, I’d be an adult with bills and insurance and responsibilities, and I would regret the things that I didn’t do when I had the money and time to do so far more than any momentary financial inconvenience.
The same holds true with exercise. There are workouts I don’t do because other more important stuff comes up; stuff for my kids that I want to do, stuff for my office that I have to do, stuff for other parts of my life. The old days of basketball from 10:30 until 2:30 in the afternoon, show up at work at 4 and kill 2 hours? Those days are gone. I’m not that young any more. So what’s keeping me from feeling that young isn’t a physical limitation, but the trappings of responsibility and adulthood. These can be overcome with insomnia, but that takes its toll as well.
So ultimately, the endeavors you take to make the physical gains that would make you feel younger are ultimately overwhelmed by the responsibilities you have as an adult. All you can hope for is that zero-g feeling in your stomach while riding a bicycle downhill, a seeing-eye backhand down the line, or nailing a turnaround jumper from the corner. For a few seconds, the other stuff disappears, and therein lies the payoff.
END TIME: 10:52 PM
WORD COUNT: 541
"Cultural axioms tell us that we’ll never be able to physically feel like we did when we were younger. Do you think it’s possible to feel physically younger as we grow older?"
“Youth is wasted on the young.” –George Bernard Shaw
I have a few different takes on this. First off, I can say from personal experience that it’s possible. I feel younger at 33 than I did at 23, and a lot of that has to do with the fact that I’m 80 pounds lighter. I have more energy than I did then, and there’s a new sense of possibility that I didn’t have from a physical standpoint at the time. So in a very literal sense, that’s true.
That said, there’s a certain amount of wear and tear that your body is forced to absorb, mentally as well as physically. Right now I can run for 13 miles after two or seven gin and tonics, but I know that moment will pass. I know that when I was 15 and playing in a tennis tournament six miles away, riding my bicycle to the event and making the conscious decision to tank the last set so I’d have something for the ride home, I couldn’t even think of doing that now (and seeing as I now own a vehicle and could drive it, I wouldn't have to try). I remember playing basketball every morning for months, for hours at a time, leaving my legs in so much pain that I would crawl out of bed to the Advil bottle. I haven’t taken more than 10 Advil per year for the past three years.
While I was doing that, though, something I wasn’t burdened down by was the nagging obligation that I should be doing something else, like being a parent or a network technician or better organized or more productive. I wasn’t putting off chores or laundry or all of the nagging little responsibilities that come with being an adult. Years ago, when planning a rather outsize evening and facing some good-natured criticism about it being a shade excessive, I pointed out that, sooner than we all cared to be, I’d be an adult with bills and insurance and responsibilities, and I would regret the things that I didn’t do when I had the money and time to do so far more than any momentary financial inconvenience.
The same holds true with exercise. There are workouts I don’t do because other more important stuff comes up; stuff for my kids that I want to do, stuff for my office that I have to do, stuff for other parts of my life. The old days of basketball from 10:30 until 2:30 in the afternoon, show up at work at 4 and kill 2 hours? Those days are gone. I’m not that young any more. So what’s keeping me from feeling that young isn’t a physical limitation, but the trappings of responsibility and adulthood. These can be overcome with insomnia, but that takes its toll as well.
So ultimately, the endeavors you take to make the physical gains that would make you feel younger are ultimately overwhelmed by the responsibilities you have as an adult. All you can hope for is that zero-g feeling in your stomach while riding a bicycle downhill, a seeing-eye backhand down the line, or nailing a turnaround jumper from the corner. For a few seconds, the other stuff disappears, and therein lies the payoff.
Writing Project Update
Words this week: 800, and they were hard-fought, every sentence a struggle, swimming through molasses words. It was a tough week for writing.
Responses to last week's topic: 1.
This week's entries: 4 (Beth, Beth, Beth, and Beth)
This week's question: "Cultural axioms tell us that we’ll never be able to physically feel like we did when we were younger. Do you think it’s possible to feel physically younger as we grow older?"
The kids are asleep, the work is done, the laundry is folded, it's Slaughterhouse time.
500 WORDS ON THIS TOPIC DUE BY: 4/11 midnight Friday/Saturday
Responses to last week's topic: 1.
This week's entries: 4 (Beth, Beth, Beth, and Beth)
This week's question: "Cultural axioms tell us that we’ll never be able to physically feel like we did when we were younger. Do you think it’s possible to feel physically younger as we grow older?"
The kids are asleep, the work is done, the laundry is folded, it's Slaughterhouse time.
500 WORDS ON THIS TOPIC DUE BY: 4/11 midnight Friday/Saturday
Friday, April 03, 2009
Slaughterhouse 14
START TIME:11:03 PM
END TIME: 11:34 PM
WORD COUNT (my content only and not Ms. Van Buren’s) 763
“Taking questions from an advice column this week, write a parody of a "Dear Abby" column.”
For this week’s challenge I don’t have much time, so I went straight to the source for questions. I typed in dearabby.com and was linked to her syndicated column. These were actual questions submitted on April 4, 2009. You’re welcome to look on the Web for her answers. You need only look below the questions for mine.
DEAR ABBY: I am an 11-year-old with a serious problem. I don't trust my parents. I doubt I ever will. I just can't tell them things. I end up praying to my dead grandpa -- that's OK, but he doesn't give me any answers.
I trust my sister more than I could ever trust Mom or Dad. It feels wrong sometimes. I don't like to be around people. I have no way of knowing whether I can trust them. There is part of my life that only my sister knows about.
I feel bad about not trusting my parents. Is there any solution to this problem? Should I talk to them about it? -- NO TRUST IN PLANO, TEXAS
Hey No Trust,
You want the good news? You’re astonishingly normal. I’m a well-adjusted adult male who remembers what I was like when I was 11, and believe me, if you think you don’t trust your parents now, the next few years are going to be a revelation.
I intend to make it my personal mission, possibly after retirement, to go around to high schools with a fire extinguisher and pick out the mopiest, most isolated kid I can find, the one who’s rehearsing his lines for when the redhead comes by the bus stop, and squirt him with the fire extinguisher. I’m going to explain that odds are that life is not all that bad and there’s a strong possibility he’s overthinking it all. I hope to save him from a life of overthinking situations right there. Remember what Charles Schulz said – “Don’t worry that the world’s going to end today. It’s already tomorrow in Australia.” Lighten up. The world gets easier when you’re old enough to discover gin.
(Dear Abby said he should talk to a counselor. Years of reading Dear Abby have proven to me that she recommends counseling the same way the kids in the National Spelling Bee ask the proctors to repeat a word before they spell it – it buys her time and it’s a default part of the routine, like how Price Is Right always ends with a castration pitch.)
DEAR ABBY: I was recently given a gift that I have reason to believe was made from stolen materials, on company premises, using stolen time. The item is of a religious nature, although the business itself is in the field of manufacturing. The person who gave me the gift is aware that I value integrity and honesty above all things. I wonder if he is trying to challenge my principles. At any rate, I'm at a loss as to what to do with the gift. I do not feel comfortable keeping it, but for reasons of family harmony cannot return it. Any suggestions? -- ROLE MODEL IN PENNSYLVANIA
Yo Role Model,
A gift that’s an item of a religious nature that would cause family disharmony if returned? Manufacturing? What is it, a concrete burial vault? Cypress knee woodcarving of Jesus? Koran written in Saddam Hussein’s blood? Wow. I’m at a loss. But Dear Abby’s never at a loss. She got this letter – and I haven’t read the response – and decided that it should make it into her column. Who writes to Dear Abby anymore?
I would assume a gift with a religious motif to be fantastically presumptuous, and if it’s some sort of gold filigree rendering of the Ten Commandments (or maybe those Extra Super Awesome dolls of Jesus engaged in various sporting activities) then this person has a highly developed sense of irony or an underdeveloped reserve of common sense. Sometimes family harmony consists of singing some really fucking horrible song off key the same way that everyone else in the family does. Either tip the valet to get your high horse out of storage, hide it, or get rid of it. Stolen rosaries have some very bad mojo attached.
(Dear Abby suggested asking the donor, “Where’d you get it?” In short, will the owner of the high horse please pick it up at the west casino entrance.)
DEAR ABBY: My older brother moved from the East Coast to Wyoming 20 years ago, which put him in a different time zone -- two hours behind me. He died in June of last year.
I am planning to get a tattoo memorializing the date and time of my brother's passing, but have reached a dilemma. My brother died June 12 at 11 p.m. in Wyoming, but it was 1 a.m. June 13 here in Connecticut.
Which date should I use? I have asked friends who say I should go with what feels right to me, but others have told me to use the date on his death certificate. Which is correct? -- DAY LATE AND TWO HOURS SHORT
Ohh, baby. See, HERE’S the stuff you don’t read in “Emily Post’s Etiquette.” I’m convinced that some guys in a firehouse are high-fiving each other, because one of the squads just won the lunch bet when she printed this silliness. No real human being has this dilemma. Either this lunatic’s wearing a black armband with his wife beater or he doesn’t exist, and for the sake of humanity I hope to God it’s the latter.
My answer? The most tasteful thing to do would be to leave the date blank and just put the year. Or maybe leave the skin blank altogether. I have a feeling that when others look at your back and see the detailed rendition of a giant Calvin urinating on a tombstone, with the words “PISS ON YOU FOR DYING, ASSHOLE” in Gothic script, they’ll be too overcome with emotion to note the chronological dilemma you face. She should have hooked this bonehead up with the kid from Plano and had his dead grandpa ask big brother what he preferred. That should do it.
(Dear Abby pointed out that a tattoo is a very personal thing, and it’s his choice. Because it’s HIS SKIN. I’m presuming she didn’t send the inmate a photo of herself so that Ramon and Juan get the face right for his left torso, as long as the guard doesn’t see it.)
So I wouldn’t be good for an advice column. Far from it. Time’s up.
END TIME: 11:34 PM
WORD COUNT (my content only and not Ms. Van Buren’s) 763
“Taking questions from an advice column this week, write a parody of a "Dear Abby" column.”
For this week’s challenge I don’t have much time, so I went straight to the source for questions. I typed in dearabby.com and was linked to her syndicated column. These were actual questions submitted on April 4, 2009. You’re welcome to look on the Web for her answers. You need only look below the questions for mine.
DEAR ABBY: I am an 11-year-old with a serious problem. I don't trust my parents. I doubt I ever will. I just can't tell them things. I end up praying to my dead grandpa -- that's OK, but he doesn't give me any answers.
I trust my sister more than I could ever trust Mom or Dad. It feels wrong sometimes. I don't like to be around people. I have no way of knowing whether I can trust them. There is part of my life that only my sister knows about.
I feel bad about not trusting my parents. Is there any solution to this problem? Should I talk to them about it? -- NO TRUST IN PLANO, TEXAS
Hey No Trust,
You want the good news? You’re astonishingly normal. I’m a well-adjusted adult male who remembers what I was like when I was 11, and believe me, if you think you don’t trust your parents now, the next few years are going to be a revelation.
I intend to make it my personal mission, possibly after retirement, to go around to high schools with a fire extinguisher and pick out the mopiest, most isolated kid I can find, the one who’s rehearsing his lines for when the redhead comes by the bus stop, and squirt him with the fire extinguisher. I’m going to explain that odds are that life is not all that bad and there’s a strong possibility he’s overthinking it all. I hope to save him from a life of overthinking situations right there. Remember what Charles Schulz said – “Don’t worry that the world’s going to end today. It’s already tomorrow in Australia.” Lighten up. The world gets easier when you’re old enough to discover gin.
(Dear Abby said he should talk to a counselor. Years of reading Dear Abby have proven to me that she recommends counseling the same way the kids in the National Spelling Bee ask the proctors to repeat a word before they spell it – it buys her time and it’s a default part of the routine, like how Price Is Right always ends with a castration pitch.)
DEAR ABBY: I was recently given a gift that I have reason to believe was made from stolen materials, on company premises, using stolen time. The item is of a religious nature, although the business itself is in the field of manufacturing. The person who gave me the gift is aware that I value integrity and honesty above all things. I wonder if he is trying to challenge my principles. At any rate, I'm at a loss as to what to do with the gift. I do not feel comfortable keeping it, but for reasons of family harmony cannot return it. Any suggestions? -- ROLE MODEL IN PENNSYLVANIA
Yo Role Model,
A gift that’s an item of a religious nature that would cause family disharmony if returned? Manufacturing? What is it, a concrete burial vault? Cypress knee woodcarving of Jesus? Koran written in Saddam Hussein’s blood? Wow. I’m at a loss. But Dear Abby’s never at a loss. She got this letter – and I haven’t read the response – and decided that it should make it into her column. Who writes to Dear Abby anymore?
I would assume a gift with a religious motif to be fantastically presumptuous, and if it’s some sort of gold filigree rendering of the Ten Commandments (or maybe those Extra Super Awesome dolls of Jesus engaged in various sporting activities) then this person has a highly developed sense of irony or an underdeveloped reserve of common sense. Sometimes family harmony consists of singing some really fucking horrible song off key the same way that everyone else in the family does. Either tip the valet to get your high horse out of storage, hide it, or get rid of it. Stolen rosaries have some very bad mojo attached.
(Dear Abby suggested asking the donor, “Where’d you get it?” In short, will the owner of the high horse please pick it up at the west casino entrance.)
DEAR ABBY: My older brother moved from the East Coast to Wyoming 20 years ago, which put him in a different time zone -- two hours behind me. He died in June of last year.
I am planning to get a tattoo memorializing the date and time of my brother's passing, but have reached a dilemma. My brother died June 12 at 11 p.m. in Wyoming, but it was 1 a.m. June 13 here in Connecticut.
Which date should I use? I have asked friends who say I should go with what feels right to me, but others have told me to use the date on his death certificate. Which is correct? -- DAY LATE AND TWO HOURS SHORT
Ohh, baby. See, HERE’S the stuff you don’t read in “Emily Post’s Etiquette.” I’m convinced that some guys in a firehouse are high-fiving each other, because one of the squads just won the lunch bet when she printed this silliness. No real human being has this dilemma. Either this lunatic’s wearing a black armband with his wife beater or he doesn’t exist, and for the sake of humanity I hope to God it’s the latter.
My answer? The most tasteful thing to do would be to leave the date blank and just put the year. Or maybe leave the skin blank altogether. I have a feeling that when others look at your back and see the detailed rendition of a giant Calvin urinating on a tombstone, with the words “PISS ON YOU FOR DYING, ASSHOLE” in Gothic script, they’ll be too overcome with emotion to note the chronological dilemma you face. She should have hooked this bonehead up with the kid from Plano and had his dead grandpa ask big brother what he preferred. That should do it.
(Dear Abby pointed out that a tattoo is a very personal thing, and it’s his choice. Because it’s HIS SKIN. I’m presuming she didn’t send the inmate a photo of herself so that Ramon and Juan get the face right for his left torso, as long as the guard doesn’t see it.)
So I wouldn’t be good for an advice column. Far from it. Time’s up.
Writing Project Update
Words this week: 250. There's been company. I got a small bit of work done on Implosion but that was it.
Responses to last week's topic: 1.
This week's entries: 1 (Ken)
This week's question: "Taking questions from an advice column this week, write a parody of a "Dear Abby" column."
We're getting a late start tonight because of some social activities with kids and guests, but we'll see if we can knock out 500 words in less than an hour.
Responses to last week's topic: 1.
This week's entries: 1 (Ken)
This week's question: "Taking questions from an advice column this week, write a parody of a "Dear Abby" column."
We're getting a late start tonight because of some social activities with kids and guests, but we'll see if we can knock out 500 words in less than an hour.
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