They’re Creepy and They’re Kooky, Mysterious and Spooky, They’re All Together Ooky…

I’ve talked about it before, my general awesomeness.  No?  I haven’t?  Okay, maybe I should have.  I’m not talking about now.  Now, I’m just a mere mortal.  Maybe.  But when I was a kid, I was cute.  Super cute.  Generally awesome.  How else can you account for a talentless actor appearing on a high rated television show for four years?

Ha ha ha…I’m kidding of course.  I had talent.

HULLOOO?  I just got done telling you how awesomely cute I was, didn’t I?

But enough about me…

My childhood superpower allowed me to do some amazing things that other mortals (dare I say Muggles) missed out on.  I have some of the most incredible memories, and feel amazingly fortunate.  But at the time it seemed…well…it seemed normal, actually.  I wasn’t star struck in my career as an actor but for a very few times.  First was meeting Tommy Lasorda AND Lyle Alzado at the same press junket.

The second was meeting Gomez Addams himself, John Astin.

Even had lunch with the man.  Oh, and his kids Sean and Mackenzie.   But enough about them…

I was in awe of meeting the patriarch of the family.  I mean, seriously, it was Gomez Addams for crying out loud.  We ate pizza.  Cool right?  Like I said, one of the few times I’ve been star-struck.  He will always be a legend to me.

I am still a HUGE fan of the Addams family.  The macabre humor, that awesome house.  Thing.  I mean, come on!  The show grabbed everything we take for granted in life and flipped it on its head, making it funny and real.  Sometimes it poked fun at your nuances as humans (I think maybe I’ll reserve judgment on my origins for later).  It displayed a sense of humor that life is in itself funny, and maybe even the strange and weird and macabre aren’t necessarily fringe, but cool.

The Addams Family broke ground on what was possible.  It was more than a few pranks and gags.  It was a look at the success and importance of family.  Of acceptance.  It was a commentary on how this world is made of wonderfully weird characters, and how the colors seem brighter because of it.  Of course, the show was in black and white, but you understand.

It was about family.  How a family so different from society managed to find happiness by staying true to themselves and most importantly, by being good to each other.  Sure, in the movies Wednesday was always trying to kill her brother Pugsly, but she never succeeded…

And though the society that found them strange or even threatening provided a hilarious backdrop, the family managed to still find they loved and respected the world at large.  It was love, in the face of evil intentions.  It was grace in light of less honorable action.

The Addams Family had values…

I’m Mad as Hell, and I’m Not Going to Take This Anymore!!

I was an angry youth.  Aren’t we all to some degree?  Angry because our brother or sister got something we didn’t, angry because that kid at school wouldn’t leave us alone.  Maybe I’m in the minority.  I was angry.

Creativity was an outlet for me.  Daydreaming.

Sports, too.  But it was the written word that really saved me.  Calvin and Hobbes, Choose Your Own Adventures, Star Wars novelizations, to name a few.  Sure, it wasn’t Hilton or Tolkien or even Cussler.  Those books came later.  But they still took me to a place that wasn’t angry all the time.  It was full of positivity and adventure and good triumphing over evil.

When I began writing, I grew even less angry.  Poems can have a calming effect.  That’s what I wrote first, poems.  Then short stories.  Now?  I still write poetry.  Novels, too.  Oh, and this blog.  I use creativity and the written word to spin tales and share experiences and to live my life full and rich.

And happy.

So when I wake up in the morning and settle into my routine of checking out the news, I begin to feel like my little world is crashing.  My positivity bubble is developing signs of an ozone-esque hole, the harmful UV rays of negativity seeping in.  I get angry.  When I read the news and see the insanity…wait, the ignorance and plain stupidity, I begin to get really angry.  Mad.

Like Howard Beale mad.  Like I want to have 120 unadulterated seconds on-air to rant and release.  To scream and shout and tell the world how utterly ridiculous it is for its incompetence and inability to right the wrongs.  Its inability to see the forest for the trees or to simply show some respect…

“I’M MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!”

I can feel that boiling rage rising up and urging me to toss up the windows and shout to the universe.  Like Howard told me to.  The anger.  The shame.  The shame for feeling like I’m some old man who doesn’t like what the kids are doing…like it’s my fault.  The anger for knowing that isn’t true.  The doubt.  The confusion.  The anger.  Again.  Again.  Again.

“I’M MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!!”

The economy.  The violence.  The politics.  The restlessness, the disconnect, the information super-highway with nothing on it but bloggers ranting and raving…

So I sit down to write…no, wait.  I sit down to RANT.  To exercise my right to be mad, my freedom to chase my dreams and share my experiences (and sometimes my anger).  I sit down to take full advantage of my freedom of speech.  My freedom…

The movie from which Howard Beale is a character, “Network”, was released to the general public in 1976.  Thirty six years ago.  In looking back on world events of 1976, it is almost laughable the similarities to today.  Politics were a mess.  The economy was struggling due the market crash a few years prior to ’76, as well as the aftermath of the ’73 oil embargo.  Ruthless dictators were in power around the globe.  Natural disasters were claiming lives at home and overseas.  Terrorists were terrorizing, there was violence in schools.

Disco was peaking, and punk rock was emerging…Heck, you could make an argument right there that the world was ending.

But it wasn’t.  It didn’t.  I sit and write and read and research and I find that Howard Beale was angry for some very good reasons.  He should have been angry.  But “Network” wasn’t just a story about societal ills, but a story about television’s greed for ratings.  It was a story about television exploiting society.  Substitute the internet for television in today’s world and that is why I’m mad as hell.  I should be mad.

But the world isn’t getting worse.  Sure it’s changing, but worse?  I don’t think so.  I just think we’re looking at more of what was already out there because of the accessibility of information thanks to the internet.  In 1976, television was still experimenting with genres and formats.  It was still pushing the edge of the envelope to what was possible.  It was concerned about ratings in an economy that wasn’t flush with money.  Television was clawing and scratching for every dollar.  As a result, it was ruining the career of a dignified anchorman who wasn’t pulling in the ratings, Howard Beale.

Today is the same as it was thirty six years ago.  Everyone clawing and scratching for a dollar.  That doesn’t make it right, in fact quite the opposite.  That desperation for ratings and money has become frantic to some degree.  Maybe today is a little different.  But it doesn’t have to be.

I’m still mad.  You should be too.  The wrongs we see need to be fixed.  We need to fix them.  Our expectation that someone else is going to fix the world has got to stop.  I love a good super-hero as much as the next geek, but they aren’t real.

WE are the super-heroes.  It’s up to us to take responsibility for ourselves and hold ourselves accountable for our own actions.  And then hold those who work for us accountable for theirs.  Who works for us?  Anyone you’re paying money to.  Networks?  Yep.  Internet?  Yep.  Politicians?  Especially the politicians.  That angry professional athlete throwing a tantrum because he didn’t get his way?  Him too.  We buy his jerseys, we patronize his team.  With our dollars.  He works for us.  He works for me.  I’m not going to hand over my hard earned cash to a grown man who kids look up to, and he can’t treat others with respect.  Sure he can be mad too, but…

Howard Beale’s “Angry Man” stunt ultimately proved unsuccessful.  It was a novelty, a sparkler on Independence Day that looked real neat and gave us a warm and fuzzy feeling until it fizzled out and we were left with a burnt stick.  The true power behind the anger and the yelling is the need for change.  The flash of the moment won’t ever last, for Howard Beale, for us, for that angry athlete who will alienate his teammates and the fans.

I made the decision to write.  To create.  To invent new ideas that would help foster positivity and help good overcome evil.  In writing this blog, I’ve managed to not be quite as angry, because I know outright anger isn’t going to do me any good.  Or you.  I need action.  Just saying I’m angry is a little helpful.  It’s the moment I need to realize that I need to take real action.

But to do something positive about my anger is the real first step.  I need to reach out to others and tell them that maybe life isn’t any more difficult today than it was in 1976.  And maybe, just maybe, our world will be even more great and wonderful and amazing in another thirty six years.  We may even be a little mad then, too.  But hopefully we’ll realize that not all is lost.  Because not all is lost…

The Top Five Articles I Didn’t Read This Morning

I’m often amazed at the speed with which so called “news” is being processed in today’s world.  So much so that I’m generally reading articles from a week ago because quite frankly, I don’t have time to keep up.  I mean really…the internet is ENORMOUS.  I try to keep up, but alas.

This morning I was checking out the front pages of a few respectable (?) conveyors of news and realized why I don’t read more articles.  The headlines say it all;

“Brett Lawrie Fires Helmet at Umpire Before Fan Hurls Beer in Tantrum Over Strikes”

First, I love a good headline that uses the word “tantrum”.  Second, I don’t need to actually read this article.  Brett Lawrie gets paid to play a game and behaves like he’s reliving his terrible-twos in the sandbox.  It is what it is.  What is really telling is that some MORON hurled his beer at the umpire for a call he made.  Bad form…very bad form.  Call an ump names, but throwing beer?  NOBODY will respect that decision, dude.  I mean, seriously, even small beers at a ballgame are $12…

“10 Board Games That Should Be Movies”

Off the top of my head I can think of ZERO.  That includes the upcoming “Battleship”.  I don’t need to read this article because I know it is only going to send me into a blinding fit of sobs and tears like when my wife has hotels on Park Place AND Boardwalk and then gleefully takes all my money.  It’s that bad…

“Three Wiggles Calling It Quits”

MUST.  NOT.  TELL.  JOKES…

“Coffee Drinkers Are a Little More Likely to Live Longer, Study Finds”

Uh, that’s not living longer.  That’s caffeine.  It’s like cutting the head off of a chicken.  Sure, it’s a hoot watching the little guy run around the yard, flailing away, but make no mistake that feathered friend is finished.

“Rod Through Phineas Gage’s Brain Caused More Damage Than Thought”

Duh!  But really, I read this headline as if original researchers believed the rod had caused “thought”.  Think about it.  The headline should read  - Rod Through Phineas Gage’s Brain Caused More “Damage Than Thought”.  Silly scientists…

What We See Depends Mainly On What We Look For

We live in the land of opportunity.  But as I reflect on this past Mother’s Day weekend, I wonder if that should be the case.  Actually, this past weekend in only significant in that we celebrated the very person that gave us life.  Our own opportunity.  It might have been any other weekend.

For me, there is a little irony in Mother’s Day.  You see, I’m a skeptic of the “Hallmark Holiday”, that occasion that arises during the year with which we need to buy flowers, candies and of course, cards.  I know, I know…you’re a woman and aghast I would say such things.  My wife too, actually.  But let me be clear, it’s not that I don’t care for the sentimentality of the suggested holiday, it’s that I don’t care for the opportunity.  The opportunity for the card companies to make a buck because today is “National Starving Writer Appreciation Day”, although I might actually support that one.  Please send cash.

But I digress.  We have the “holiday” because it was an opportunity for a conglomerate or cartel, if you will, to market their pink hued products like mad and make their money back ten-fold.  And not just the card companies, mind you.  The flower companies, the knick-knack companies, etc.  Even restaurants are getting into the spirit.  One of my local favorites was open on Sunday, the only Sunday of the year they are open.  Why?  The business that day is incredible.

And I appreciate that.  The business is incredible.  It is an opportunity.  But what about the other days of the year?  Isn’t there an opportunity there, as well?  Don’t we appreciate administrative assistants and bosses and grandparents, moms and dads everyday of the year?  The irony on Mother’s Day is that we spend one day celebrating the one person who spends the other 364 days celebrating us.

The truth is we appreciate our loved ones, and we don’t.  We appreciate them on some level, but the problem is we don’t always show it.  We don’t take that opportunity.  We aren’t buying cards and gifts and taking that special someone out for a meal and telling them things like “we can do whatever you want, today is your day!”  Wouldn’t it be nice if we did?

But to be honest that isn’t really what is irking me today, and boy am I irked.  No, the “Hallmark Holiday” is simply a contrivance that many either fully embrace, partly embrace (like myself) or completely and utterly denounce and avoid (many of them single).  It is what it is.  What has me irked is that we choose to take the opportunity daily to not celebrate our loved ones and not be good to each other and not appreciate this special, fragile life.

Unfortunately I made the mistake of perusing a popular social network yesterday evening before retiring for the night, looking for great ideas for home, health and spirit.  It is a routine of mine, looking for those positive things.  I spend a great deal of time looking for things to make me better.  Most of the time I am inspired by what I see.  Last night I was appalled.

What appalled me was a chain of comments on a quote having to deal with a current controversial issue.  Regardless of your race, gender, religion, political views or sexual orientation, the post was intended to be positive and inspirational for supporters of the same view.  It was clear that a certain individual was intent on being a troll.  Intent on being negative.  Intent on creating conflict.  Man or woman (does the user ID really tell us anything anymore?), this person had made an opportunity to be negative.

It’s not like there’s a holiday for negative comments.  There isn’t a song or a color or type of flower associated with it.  We didn’t decide as a society to set aside the second Sunday of the month to collectively troll the internet looking to squash positivity at every turn.  Did we?

Sometimes I feel like I missed a memo.  But I’m pretty confident on this one.  Look, I understand we’re different.  You were raised there, in that environment.  I was raised here, in this environment.  That person over there?  She doesn’t even speak the same language I do.  Completely different person.  We’re different.

That’s gonna cause a few ripples in the pond now and then, I get that too.  Sometimes you end up with a neighbor you don’t see eye to eye with.  Trust me, I am speaking from experience.  But I’ve learned to deal with it.  I appreciate the good in my life and I even appreciate the good in my neighbor.  It’s hard to see sometimes, I but I take the opportunity to look for those good things.  I don’t take the opportunity to look for the bad.  Those things are there too, I just don’t have to call them out or make them worse.

The reality is that if I sought opportunities to see the bad in my neighbor, and sought the opportunities to talk about them and confront that person, then I would be dealing with those issues ALL THE TIME.  I’m not dealing with them all the time.  I deal with the negative when they arise on their own, but for the most part I’m not focusing my life on the decisions of another person I don’t agree with.

Ultimately it takes more effort to be negative than it does to be positive.  Regardless of how popular, good looking, fit, financially secure or talented a person may be, we all suffer from a flaw in the armor.  Some people are fated to dwell on it, some are not. But each individual has their insecurities.  If they tell they don’t they’re lying to themselves.

It is why taking the opportunity to be mean or cruel or senseless or just plain stupid and ignorant is so perplexing.  If we all suffer from the same malady, shouldn’t we go out of our way to at least not bring it to light?  I’m not saying we have to coddle and cater to every whim.  There are a lot of ridiculous whims out there.  But I don’t see the benefit in pointing out each whim as ridiculous, just to point it out.  We have better things to make opportunities for.  Like making opportunities to have integrity.

I think this should be the land of integrity.  Opportunity is a foregone conclusion, so much so that we take it for granted.  What we should be heralding ourselves as is a society intent on integrity as individuals.  We should be taking those plentiful opportunities to do something rare, becoming a society that values positivity and rewards it in abundance.  We don’t have to agree with one another, but we don’t have to point out our differences at every opportunity either.

So  I’ve decided to create a new national holiday.  And in light of the economy and such, this new national holiday will be a non-monetary holiday.  No cards, no candies, no flowers.  But make no mistake, this is a gift giving holiday.  It will be “National Positive Impact Day”.  Here is how I envision the press release from the White House:

Today we celebrate National Positive Impact Day.  It is the day we make an effort to do something to benefit not ourselves, but those around us.  It is the day we take the opportunity to do the right thing, regardless of if we are alone or with others.  We will celebrate this momentous occasion by seeking opportunities to offer an encouraging word to others.  To guide and mentor those who could use our help.  A day to appreciate the differences of others.  On this day, we will honor our beliefs as our own and feel blessed for the strength they provide us as individuals.  And too, we will honor and respect the beliefs of others, not as our own, but as their blessing of strength as individuals.  Today we understand the many paths to crossing a river, some may swim, some may walk around and still others may wait for the water to recede.  Our strength is in knowing we will all reach the other side. 

Maybe it’s idealistic.  I’ll email this to the Prez and see what funding I can get.  Hey, maybe you don’t agree.  But I think it’s important to remember we all share that common malady.  Wouldn’t it be nice to walk around and feel secure our common malady wasn’t going to come to light at least one day of the year?  Wouldn’t it be even better if it was every day of the year?

To live in the Land of Integrity.

In reflecting on Mother’s Day, I think it’s also important to remember the sacrifice our mothers made for us.  Didn’t they go out of our way to give us an encouraging word or at the very least, not bring our insecurities to light?  Sure, some moms are better than others.  Some are pure evil, others have wings and a halo and can do no wrong.  But each made a sacrifice for us.  They continue to make those sacrifices for us each day.

Maybe even that’s a stretch, but it doesn’t hurt to find an opportunity to see the good, right?

For Those About to Rock (It), We Salute You!

We need to talk.

Maybe you should sit down.

Comfortable?  Good…

You see, the truth is…well…I’ve been deceiving you.

Wait, before you say anything…let me finish.

I’m not what you think I am.  You see me every day.  We laugh, we cry, we think.  You’re totally in love with my beautifully handsome, manly awesomeness.  But that really isn’t me.  You see…

I’m a dork.

I have been a dork my whole life.  Some of my earliest recollections involve Star Wars action figures and Thundercats cartoons.  I’ve probably seen every episode of Gilligan’s Island, The Brady Bunch and even Little House on the Prairie.

Sure, some of the cool kids may have done that too.  Maybe.  But after a while they stopped.  I didn’t.  I spent a lot of time indoors making forts and strange worlds out of Legos.  I was pale for a very long time.

As I got older, it didn’t get any better.  Sure, I changed a little.  Started playing sports.  But I was a daydreamer.  I was sneaking comic books between the pages of the Sports Illustrated in my backpack.  I’d watch the basketball games with my friends and then race home to catch reruns of Lost in Space or Star Trek.   On Saturday’s they’d play Doc Savage: Man of Bronze, Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea or Warlords of Atlantis.  I’d sit on the couch at home and watch, but really I was a world away.

Don’t get me started on Dungeons & Dragons…

I know I should have stopped.  I tried, I really did.  I was good for a while, but then I started up again.  I was older, things had been going well.  I thought maybe I could control it.  But I know now I can’t.

That’s when I started to hide it from you.  Late at night sometimes, after all the cool shows were over and I’d finished tweeting about them, I’d sneak over to public programming hoping for a fix.  Sometimes I’d get lucky.  It was easy at first.

But now…now it’s becoming more difficult.  Temptation is everywhere.

I’ve thought a lot about it.  At first I denied it, telling myself it wasn’t true.  I tried to convince myself it wasn’t true.  But it is.  It is true.  I am a dork.  I realize that now.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.  I’m a serious writer!  I’m an adult.  I have a house and responsibilities.  I have grown children of my own.  It shouldn’t be this way, but it is.  I should have seen the signs.  They were there.  The rolling eyes.  The deep sighs.  The exasperation and calls of “awww, man…”  The shooting glances in the market when Wham! poured from the speakers and I’d do the “Jitterbug”.  I didn’t get it at first.  And then this week it hit me.

A hero of mine passed away.  We didn’t know each other, but he had a story he once told me.  About monsters and wild things.  It had been a long time, but I remembered.  I remembered fondly.  He was part of a group of heroes that I’ve had since my dorkness first cracked the cocoon and emerged so wonderfully weird.  My favorite authors are children’s authors. 

I can’t keep it from you any longer.

I was supposed to have literary heroes named Hemingway, Tolstoy or London.  My work was supposed to be cutting edge, avant garde, revolutionary.  I was supposed to mingle among the Pulitzers and the Nobels and be lauded by the Times.  My work was to be existential…

Instead, my work rhymes.

It rhymes because I like it that way.  My work rhymes because it’s funny and it reminds me of being a kid.  It reminds me of dancing and laughing and playing.  It takes me back to the days when spinning around in circles in the yard was something to do.  The days when cool and rad were still part of my every day vernacular.  My poems try to recapture the days of R2D2 t-shirts and Saturday morning cartoons.  My work takes a look back to the whimsical weirdness of Pippi Longstocking reruns and Tom Hatten drawing amazing things from a “squiggle”.

Sure, you see my amazingly beautiful, handsome awesomeness and it’s tough to wonder where it all went wrong.  I’m not as pale anymore.  I boogie when you’re not around.  You missed the signs too.

But…since I’m being honest.  I like being a dork.  I’m comfortable.  I’m happy.  I don’t care that people point and laugh.  I don’t care that I missed Black Swan in the theater because I stayed home to watch that Firefly marathon on Syfy Network.

Again…

And my work is going to continue to rhyme.  For all the other dorks out there.  For me.  For Shel…

I may even go to a ComicCon.  And  dress up like Iron Man.  My next birthday party?  You know, my 40^th birthday?  I’m thinking maybe a Justice League of America cake…or BATMAN!!  I’m seriously considering changing my Facebook status right now.  Look for the newsfeed that says “Greg Morton has updated his work to DORK.”  And I’m going to be happy doing it.

But you know what?  You know what would make me really happy?  If you went to ComicCon too.  Maybe dressed up.  It’d be fun.  We could sit outside at the bus stop in our costumes and laugh at all the cool people walking by.

We could get others, too.  Maybe a few of the others that are afraid of coming out and announcing to the world they’re dorks.  The ones who’ve felt a little shame.  Together we could tell them it’s alright.  They ARE dorks, but that it’s cool with us.  They can rock their dork anytime, because we think being a dork is amazingly beautiful, dorky awesomeness.

Whattaya say?

All We Have to Do is Decide What to Do with the Time That is Given to Us

I wrote a post last week to celebrate the relationships I’ve made online.  To champion the type of interaction I think is productive, and to really call attention to those I feel embody that spirit of interaction.  The response I got from my readers was incredible.  The response I got from those I mentioned was heartfelt and moving.  I was getting the gifts of fellowship and conversation all weekend.

In reflecting today, it made me think of Christmas time.  All personal religious thoughts aside, I love the holiday season for one main reason.  Fellowship.

And food.

Ok, so I love the holiday season for two reasons…

In my circle of family and friends, we begin celebrating on Halloween, then a number of birthdays in November, then Thanksgiving, and then Christmas and of course…New Years.  For me, this is the holiday season.  But forget about Jingle Bells Muzak, Secret Santas or Black Friday.  For me it is two months of getting together with the ones I love the most and celebrating our lives together.  And we tend to gather around food, which further strengthens the bond of our relationships.

Each year around the holidays I write a family newsletter, as I’m sure countless other families do.  It is a way for my house to update the ones we love but don’t see regularly, and it is a way to show our deepest love and appreciation for all who receive it.

A few years ago my wife and I sent a dollar bill with each letter.  After the summary of our lives during the year, I added a challenge to everyone.  I didn’t impose rules, but I did challenge everyone to find a creative use for a dollar.  In addition, I had created a blog for all to share their uses of the dollar.

Mine was not an original idea.  I’d actually seen something online outlining different uses for a dollar.  But my intention was two-fold.  First, I wanted to challenge the Christmas spirit.  I included this into the letter.  My goal was to have people spend the first dollar I gave in December.  I challenged them to be creative and if they wished, to be charitable.  The bigger challenge was for my friends and family to spend a dollar of their own for each month, and report back to the blog their use of the money.  Twelve dollars total, to spread Christmas cheer throughout the year.

Second, my goal was to encourage the interaction.  I wanted to learn more about the people in my life.  The ones that I update year after year with news of the happenings in my home.  The people I share my life with, whether I see them daily or haven’t seen them in years.  Though I know many of them intimately and we have close bonds, I wanted to know more about them creatively.  For me, the learning is fun and meaningful.

If memory serves we sent nearly $90.00 out into the world to be spent in a creative way.  Unfortunately, we only received less than twenty responses on the blog for the original dollar.  Those participants were AWESOME, and they kept up the challenge for the first few months, but then the challenge waned altogether.  I remain disappointed, but not surprised.  Perplexed maybe…

Still for me, the greatest gifts are fellowship.  The interaction with others.  If I want material things, I’ll save the money to buy them.  I’ll earn them through my work.  The gift I want is time.  Time to spend with people who encourage my dreams, make me laugh, teach me something new and challenge me to be a better person.  That is the greatest gift I’ve ever received, and I’m selfish for more.

Well….and food.

So today I’m adding a page for the dollar challenge, to encourage a creative spirit and to see what happens.   Participation is entirely up to you.

I hope you have an amazing Monday, the start of a rich and fulfilling week…

Cheers!

Greg

Calvin, One of These Days Your Face is Going to Freeze Like That

I’ve realized today I may be suffering some separation anxiety.  I’ve been working a lot.  The project I’m working on has some light moments, but is mostly reflective in nature.  It’s motivational, a personal look at the lessons I’ve learned through the experiences I’ve had.

In looking back at the posts I’ve been putting up lately, I realize it is all pretty message heavy as well.  I love it, but this morning I woke up and wanted something a little different.  And I was trying really hard to conjure up a witty anecdote that I could use to fill the page with laughter.  I must say it has been difficult.

And then inspiration struck as I was looking in the mirror, scrubbing the pearly whites.

When all else fails, enlist the help of a child and his pet tiger.

My long lost brother…

 

I hope you all have a fantastic and fun weekend…

 

 

I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

I’ve got to be honest with you, I’m not always that great about reading other people’s blogs.  I’ve read the blog-o-sphere pundits tell me how I need to read more and comment more to drive more traffic to my site…blah, blah, blah.  I get it.  But if I’m still being honest, there is A LOT of crap out there.  Hey, maybe I’m part of that.  I can accept that on some level, I guess.  Maybe someone can write a post about my garbage.  But my purpose of this post isn’t to ridicule or criticize others.

In fact, just the opposite.  I find myself more and more interested in the conversations with the authors.  I’ll find a site or two that I really do like, that the posts aren’t EPIC novellas and that I can get through a few in between writing my own stuff.  I’ll comment, I’ll engage.  I won’t just write “Hey, nice post” or something of that nature, like a flashing neon sign that says “PLEASE COME VISIT MY SITE AND PAD MY NUMBERS.” I want to learn. 

I often get the customary “thank you” response.  It’s okay, I understand.  This writing gig is tough work.  Busy, busy, busy.  It’s tough to respond to a number of comments when you are trying to be creative and produce content.  And if you are lucky enough to get Freshly Pressed?  Forget about it!  I would dedicate a full day just to respond to the comments.  You’d have to.  I’ve seen the numbers.

I understand.

So it makes it that much more special to me when I get a conversation from a fellow writer.  A dialogue.  Something that makes me think.  Something that makes me compelled to go beyond a single sentence and tell a perfect stranger a story.  My story.  Something personal about me.  When someone responds to my comments or comes to my site and engages me, I’m excited for the opportunity to begin a new relationship.

So I’ve decided to call a few people out today.  A few perfect strangers that are fast becoming a very important part of my life.  They are becoming my circle of friends that I see here in this web of life.  As this first friend put it, this “artist’s group” that I’ve managed to earn membership into.  So let me get started with the introductions;

The Wasteland Here – http://wastelandhere.com/

William Ricci inspired me to write this post.  He is an amazingly deep thinker, an artist, a poet, a friend.  He is also a fellow outdoorsman.  His posts are stark and real and very personal.  His poems have made me stretch beyond my comfort zone when writing my own, to explore deeper ideas and meaning.  Without knowing it, he has challenged me to be better.  He is incredibly supportive as well.  We don’t chat often, but when we do it has value.

The Regina Chronicles 366 – http://imagesbyregina.wordpress.com/

Gina is my friend.  I’ve never met her in person, but we chat a lot.  She is much better about visiting my site than I am about visiting hers, but thankfully she hasn’t gotten mad at me about that just yet.  She is a photographer, and her images never fail to spark the imagination.  She has an incredible perspective, in the picture and more.  Gina is one of the reasons that I look forward to clicking that “Publish” button with each post.  I know without a doubt that she is going to read it, and that she is going to offer the start of a wonderful conversation.  Please visit her site and get lost in her pictures, you’ll be glad you did.

Writing on the Rim – http://writingontherim.wordpress.com/

Juliana is another friend of mine that I’ve never met.  Her site offers some amazing recipes (including a Recipe for Life).  Juliana’s comments always go above and beyond a mere “Thanks”, and I am always delighted to see her profile show up on one of my posts.  Check out her site (and maybe steal one or two of her recipes).  Oh…and she wrote an amazing piece on writer’s block.  Check it out!

Resurrected Writer – http://resurrectedwriter.wordpress.com/

I just met Jaser75.  We haven’t had a lot of conversations, but I wanted to include him on this list for one very simple reason.  He recently added a post to his blog asking writers questions about their writing process.  In reading through the responses, I saw that Jaser75 didn’t just say “Thanks for your ideas”, he actually responded to each one with thoughts of his own.  That takes time.  It takes time and effort to have a conversation with people through media.  He asked questions, got responses, and then challenged some of those responses for deeper meaning.  I respect that.  As the name implies, he’s restarting his life as a writer.  I’m very interested in seeing the progress…

Calliope’s Tablet – http://desertmusepublishing.wordpress.com/

I just met Ann as well, but feel she may just be my virtual sister separated at birth.  I mean, let’s take a look at it.  She’s a writer, I’m a writer.  She’s a parent, I’m a parent.  She’s a Cubs fan, I’m a Cubs fan!  Oh, and she has an amazing sense of humor and features some incredible photography on her site.  And though I just met her, I see that I’ll be spending a lot of time reading her work.  But the real reason she’s on this list (besides being a lover of baseball.  Did I mention she’s a Cubs fan?) is that Ann reached out and started a conversation.  She told me a story.  I told her a story.  We’ve gotten to know each other.  And I’m looking forward to more.

By no means is this list complete.  The last thing I want to do is alienate the absolutely wonderful people that visit.  I have a huge circle of amazing ladies in my Facebook/Twitter community that are regulars here as well…My SMK Posse.  Many of them are talented writers themselves.  More times than not they are the highlight of my working day.

This list is just an example of what I’m drawn to; the online relationships I’m interested in.  Sure, you may have yawned once or twice during this post.  You may say it’s indulgent.  Maybe.

But reach out and visit some of these sites.  Start making the world a little smaller and make a friend across the state, the country or the world.  If only for a few minutes.  A few minutes out of the day may not change your life dramatically.

Then again, maybe it will…

When You Come to a Fork in the Road, Take It

“A great teammate”

Mickey Mantle, when asked what he wanted written on his tombstone. 

To be honest, I didn’t have a plan for this post.  But I knew I wanted to talk about Mickey Mantle.  An online friend and I had been talking baseball recently…Washington Nationals baseball to be exact.  A hot, young prospect made his major league debut on Saturday against the Los Angeles Dodgers.  You may have heard of him…Bryce Harper.  He has said his favorite player of all time is Mickey Mantle.

This kid is no Mickey Mantle.

Not that he has to be, mind you, but if he idolizes The Mick he could sure do right by himself by learning to be more like him.  What bothers me about Harper is his arrogance.  I don’t know him, so in fairness I don’t know anything about him.  But he presents himself with an arrogance that is off-putting.  He says arrogant things in the press.  He carries himself with an air of superiority.

That wasn’t Mickey Mantle.

Make no mistake, Mickey wasn’t perfect.  He was a hard drinking man throughout most of his career.  He was unfaithful in his relationship with his wife.  He struggled being a good father.  In short, he was human.  Just like Harper.

But Mickey was a humble man.  And more than that, he had respect for the game.  He had respect for the fans and he had respect most of all for his teammates.  He never once took the game for granted.  In fact, he was given a second chance he didn’t think he had deserved.

At nineteen, the same age as Harper, Mickey struggled with the Yankees, and they sent him to Kansas to their minor league team to work on his skills.  The demotion shattered him emotionally.  He called his father, and in his mind, he had given up.  He had quit.  Mickey Mantle didn’t think he was good enough to play the game.

His father convinced him otherwise.  Mickey went to the minor league team, put in the work he needed to improve and was promoted again that same year.  The rest, as they say, is Hall of Fame history.

For me, Mickey’s life has many lessons to be learned.  Both his personal and professional life.  But the one thing that has always stuck with me is the lesson of humility.  Though he wasn’t perfect, he was likable.  Lovable, in fact, to legions of fans around New York and beyond.  When I read about Mickey, I sympathize with his struggles.  And maybe it’s a little easier to forgive his shortcomings because he was likable.  How can you begrudge a man who always wanted to be a part of a team?  Never to be singled out.  Never to be fawned over or put on a pedestal.

But I guess in today’s modern world we need someone to root against as much as we need someone to root for.  I guess baseball has become a soap opera, in need of a villain.  It seems there are guys willing to play the part.  I’ll love the game for the many guys who are willing to still be the heroes.  The humble guys that respect the fans and their teammates and remember that baseball is still just a game.   And games are supposed to be fun.  For everyone.

I hope for all his hopes and dreams and desires that Harper’s attitude is simply youthful arrogance, and a healthy dose of reality will teach him that raw talent will only take him so far.  At nineteen, he potentially has a long career ahead of him.  I imagine it would be a difficult road if everyone hated you all the time.  Maybe someday we can talk about the lessons he could teach the next generation…

Advice to the young kids, courtesy of Mickey’s long time teammate Yogi Berra;

“Baseball is 90% mental – the other half is physical.”

“You can observe a lot by watchin’”

“When you come to a fork in the road, take it!”

“If you can’t imitate him, don’t copy him.”

“It ain’t over till it’s over”

When All You Really Want Is Only What You Really Need

I’ve had a lot of “perfect days”.  At home, at work, on vacation.  With friends and alone.  It has always been a matter of living in the moment.  Yesterday was one of those days.  Not a moment missed.  Each passing tick of the clock was savored and enjoyed.

We spent most of the day in Pasadena on a walking tour of early 20^th Century Craftsman Bungalows, joined by our neighbors.  We worked up quite an appetite, and followed up the tour with a cool, relaxing and very refreshing lunch in a local bistro.

The late afternoon my wife and I spent together working on projects she wants to begin.  Her excitement and enthusiasm remain infectious.  Our work to achieve some very simple goals carried us into the evening.  We even managed to watch a little of a baseball game on television.

It was a simple day.  Perfect for being outside and perfect for being with the ones you love most.  Very reminiscent of life in the early 20^th Century when plumbers and accountants were coming out to California to build quaint little homes, complete with a large porch so they could visit with their neighbors.

As I drink my Monday Morning Coffee, I’m going to try and carry that simplicity into my week.  Still lots to do.  In fact, maybe even a little more, now that I’m filled with the inspiration and motivation of a happy, simple life.

I hope everyone has a fantastic week…