A few days ago, as I sat in my motionless car waiting for traffic on the surprisingly congested, fog-shrouded back road to move so that I could get to work, I happened to glance to my right at the pond that stood beside the road. The water was still in the cool morning air, a thin mist rising from it as the first shafts of the morning sun penetrated the branches of the surrounding pine trees. A swan sat serenely swimming (say that five times fast), fluffing its feathers, oblivious to the world beyond its immediate surroundings.
As I gazed upon the swan, I found myself envious of the simplicity of the scene, struck anew by a desire to simplify my life. I say "anew" because it's not the first time I've wished my life were simpler. I also know that I'm not the first (nor will I be the last) to make that wish. We live in frenetic -- nay, frenzied -- times, and it seems easier than ever to get caught up in the cycle of day-to-day responsibilities and activities, running from one thing to the next with barely a pause for breath.
I'm sure the litany of things that consume my time would be similar to that of many of my friends. There's work (of course), gaming, theater rehearsals, family gatherings and events, outings with friends, two houses worth of yard work (the one we live in and the one we're trying to sell), doctor and dentist appointments, bills to pay, groceries to buy, books to read, shows to catch up on, etc. etc. etc. Weeks and months pass in a whirlwind, and I periodically find myself taking an unexpected day off when I get sick because my body just can't keep up. (But do I really rest on these days? Of course not! They are opportunities to catch up on reading...)
I'm not alone in the modern curse of overcommitment, and I realize that I did (and continue to do) this to myself. I'm not complaining, though it may sound like I am. I suppose I am observing, as I occasionally do, that the time has come to put on the brakes and simplify my life for a while. The show I'm in is my fourth in a year with virtually no breaks between, so maybe it's time to take a month or two off from community theater. Maybe I'll game a little less. Maybe I'll stop pushing myself so hard at work. I want to spend more time enjoying the burgeoning Spring and share more time with my wife. For a while, I want to do less and be more. I want to be more like the swan.
I know it won't last: too much relaxation makes me restless. I've done this before, and I inevitably reach a point where I feel like a slacker for not having an overfull schedule. The type-A overachiever in me would rather feel exhausted than feel lazy, so my fallow periods tend to be short and widely-spaced. It won't be long before I'm ramping back up to the frenetic pace I'm accustomed to, but in the meantime, I think I'll take a few long walks, enjoy some sunshine and smell a few flowers. It probably won't stick, but it'll be a pleasant change while it lasts.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Spring Awakening
Springtime has come to New England at last. Today it was 70 degrees and sunny, the snow has melted (except for that pesky pile at the bottom of the driveway that was up over 8 feet tall), and the first signs of green are starting to appear at the tips of branches everywhere. It is a time of rebirth and renewal, a season of looking forward to the possibilities of the year ahead.
Maybe that's why my mind is full of thoughts of personal development. With the winter coming to an end, I find myself thinking about self-improvement projects and trying to decide how best to spend my precious free time. This past year has seen the re-introduction of community theater to my life, but I would really like to learn something new.
For several years now, I have been considering getting a master's degree, but I have yet to commit to doing that, for various reasons. Part of my reluctance is the expense. My company has an education reimbursement policy, which is awesome, but it only covers part of the expense. That is, unless I want to take six to ten years to finish the degree. There is also my uncertainty about the topic of study. A degree in Computer Science, particularly software development, is an obvious choice, since I'm a professional software engineer. A master's degree can only deepen the skills that I depend on to keep a roof over my head, and perhaps it would prepare me for moving farther up the professional ladder. But, I have other interests, and part of me thinks a master's degree would be a good opportunity to change the direction of my life and branch out into something totally new.
My return to the community theater stage -- a return I will refrain from describing as triumphant for now -- also has me thinking about ways to improve my theater skills. My voice lessons have certainly been helpful, but I keep wondering if taking a music class or two, learning how to read music better and refining my ear would be a useful investment of time. Or at least a satisfying and rewarding one. It might help me with the period I've experienced in each of the shows I've been in, where I struggle to master the group numbers and sound truly wretched for weeks on end. I also wonder about taking acting classes. I think I'm a good actor, but there is always room for improvement. If I'm going to stay active in community theater, it would probably be a good idea to get training and move beyond the modicum of talent that I have relied on thus far. Especially since there are some great parts that I would love to get, in some popular shows being done in the upcoming year.
Lastly, I still sometimes dream of writing a novel. This dream is the hardest for me to think about, because I've had it for so long. I've read a lot of advice on the topic of writing a novel. I'm a member of a couple of mailing lists for writers, and I've enrolled in -- but never finished -- a novel-writing class. I have a mostly-finished manuscript sitting in a box, but I haven't looked at it in a long time. I am published, due to contributions to several gaming supplements back in the late 90's, but I have yet to give my inner storyteller permission to embark on that honored form of narrative expression. In part, I think I fear the time commitment, and I also fear that the end result won't be worth the paper it's written on -- there's an expression that needs updating. I had hoped that this blog would stir me into action on the writing front, and it has to a degree, but I need to make writing a more important part of my life before I'll be even remotely ready to tackle something as demanding as a novel.
Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't confess that a small part of me just wants to coast and enjoy Spring as it unfolds. The breezes are mild, the flowers are blooming, and the birds are singing, all of which makes it easy to just breathe deeply and live in the moment. And while I agree with my wife that I could stand to have a little more of that in my life, no bird ever learned to fly by just sitting around in the nest all the time. Time to spread my wings -- no one's going to do it for me.
Maybe that's why my mind is full of thoughts of personal development. With the winter coming to an end, I find myself thinking about self-improvement projects and trying to decide how best to spend my precious free time. This past year has seen the re-introduction of community theater to my life, but I would really like to learn something new.
For several years now, I have been considering getting a master's degree, but I have yet to commit to doing that, for various reasons. Part of my reluctance is the expense. My company has an education reimbursement policy, which is awesome, but it only covers part of the expense. That is, unless I want to take six to ten years to finish the degree. There is also my uncertainty about the topic of study. A degree in Computer Science, particularly software development, is an obvious choice, since I'm a professional software engineer. A master's degree can only deepen the skills that I depend on to keep a roof over my head, and perhaps it would prepare me for moving farther up the professional ladder. But, I have other interests, and part of me thinks a master's degree would be a good opportunity to change the direction of my life and branch out into something totally new.
My return to the community theater stage -- a return I will refrain from describing as triumphant for now -- also has me thinking about ways to improve my theater skills. My voice lessons have certainly been helpful, but I keep wondering if taking a music class or two, learning how to read music better and refining my ear would be a useful investment of time. Or at least a satisfying and rewarding one. It might help me with the period I've experienced in each of the shows I've been in, where I struggle to master the group numbers and sound truly wretched for weeks on end. I also wonder about taking acting classes. I think I'm a good actor, but there is always room for improvement. If I'm going to stay active in community theater, it would probably be a good idea to get training and move beyond the modicum of talent that I have relied on thus far. Especially since there are some great parts that I would love to get, in some popular shows being done in the upcoming year.
Lastly, I still sometimes dream of writing a novel. This dream is the hardest for me to think about, because I've had it for so long. I've read a lot of advice on the topic of writing a novel. I'm a member of a couple of mailing lists for writers, and I've enrolled in -- but never finished -- a novel-writing class. I have a mostly-finished manuscript sitting in a box, but I haven't looked at it in a long time. I am published, due to contributions to several gaming supplements back in the late 90's, but I have yet to give my inner storyteller permission to embark on that honored form of narrative expression. In part, I think I fear the time commitment, and I also fear that the end result won't be worth the paper it's written on -- there's an expression that needs updating. I had hoped that this blog would stir me into action on the writing front, and it has to a degree, but I need to make writing a more important part of my life before I'll be even remotely ready to tackle something as demanding as a novel.
Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't confess that a small part of me just wants to coast and enjoy Spring as it unfolds. The breezes are mild, the flowers are blooming, and the birds are singing, all of which makes it easy to just breathe deeply and live in the moment. And while I agree with my wife that I could stand to have a little more of that in my life, no bird ever learned to fly by just sitting around in the nest all the time. Time to spread my wings -- no one's going to do it for me.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Hell is Other Drivers
I hope that Jean-Paul Sartre will forgive my paraphrasing of his title, but I generally like people, and it's only certain types who get my back up. In this case, other drivers. Specifically, drivers who wield their high-speed, ton-weight missiles of destruction without respect for the damage they can cause.
Now, I don't claim to be the best or safest driver out there. I usually drive a bit over the speed limit, and I have been known to change lanes without signaling. (Hey, in New England, signaling a lane change is considered divulging secrets to the enemy...) But for some reason, I have noticed a particularly high rate of driving idiocy lately. Maybe the arrival of Spring is messing with everyone's mind or something, but today was a particularly bad day, and I saw several head-shake-worthy events in the span of 30 minutes.
First was the woman in the SUV who approached the intersection where I was stopped from the perpendicular street just as the light turned green for me. I started to pull forward, and she decided that "right on red after a full stop" meant it was okay to peel out (in an SUV!) to get in front of me before I crossed the remaining 25 feet of the intersection I was already moving through. Luckily, I wasn't moving that fast yet and was able to tap the brakes and avoid a collision. (Although, my car *is* getting on in years and miles...)
Then came the guy who blew past me on 495 as if I were standing still when I was actually going about 80 miles per hour. Now, being passed on the highway isn't all that unusual. But, being passed at really high speed on the right-hand side as I'm changing into the center lane by a guy who is also moving into the center lane without signaling (see previous comment about divulging secrets to the enemy) after whipping around a panel van traveling in the center lane is a bit eyebrow-raising. Luckily I wasn't further into the middle lane when he went flying past, or I might be in a hospital somewhere instead of writing this.
Lastly, there was the idiot backing up in the breakdown lane trying to get to the exit he just passed. There was a lot of traffic on the highway, including people getting off at that exit every few seconds, and he was just blithely backing up as if he had all the right in the world to be traveling opposite the direction of traffic. On the highway. Really? Is it so hard to just continue down to the next exit and turn around, rather than doing the one thing every high school driver's education class clearly stresses you must NEVER EVER do? People like that cause stupid accidents that kill other people and then don't have the good grace to die in the accidents they cause.
Okay, I don't really wish anyone to die, but stupid, dangerous driving gets under my skin. I sometimes wish I were empowered as a secret, civilian traffic agent, so that I could pull people over, berate them and then write them tickets. Hmmm, I wonder if I could pitch that to the state as an alternative revenue stream for them. I wonder what the certification process would be...
Now, I don't claim to be the best or safest driver out there. I usually drive a bit over the speed limit, and I have been known to change lanes without signaling. (Hey, in New England, signaling a lane change is considered divulging secrets to the enemy...) But for some reason, I have noticed a particularly high rate of driving idiocy lately. Maybe the arrival of Spring is messing with everyone's mind or something, but today was a particularly bad day, and I saw several head-shake-worthy events in the span of 30 minutes.
First was the woman in the SUV who approached the intersection where I was stopped from the perpendicular street just as the light turned green for me. I started to pull forward, and she decided that "right on red after a full stop" meant it was okay to peel out (in an SUV!) to get in front of me before I crossed the remaining 25 feet of the intersection I was already moving through. Luckily, I wasn't moving that fast yet and was able to tap the brakes and avoid a collision. (Although, my car *is* getting on in years and miles...)
Then came the guy who blew past me on 495 as if I were standing still when I was actually going about 80 miles per hour. Now, being passed on the highway isn't all that unusual. But, being passed at really high speed on the right-hand side as I'm changing into the center lane by a guy who is also moving into the center lane without signaling (see previous comment about divulging secrets to the enemy) after whipping around a panel van traveling in the center lane is a bit eyebrow-raising. Luckily I wasn't further into the middle lane when he went flying past, or I might be in a hospital somewhere instead of writing this.
Lastly, there was the idiot backing up in the breakdown lane trying to get to the exit he just passed. There was a lot of traffic on the highway, including people getting off at that exit every few seconds, and he was just blithely backing up as if he had all the right in the world to be traveling opposite the direction of traffic. On the highway. Really? Is it so hard to just continue down to the next exit and turn around, rather than doing the one thing every high school driver's education class clearly stresses you must NEVER EVER do? People like that cause stupid accidents that kill other people and then don't have the good grace to die in the accidents they cause.
Okay, I don't really wish anyone to die, but stupid, dangerous driving gets under my skin. I sometimes wish I were empowered as a secret, civilian traffic agent, so that I could pull people over, berate them and then write them tickets. Hmmm, I wonder if I could pitch that to the state as an alternative revenue stream for them. I wonder what the certification process would be...
Monday, March 14, 2011
Geeking Out A Bit
As I write this, tens of thousands of people are missing and presumed (or confirmed) dead in Japan due to the 5th most powerful earthquake in recorded history and the tsunami that it produced. It's a tragedy of literally biblical proportions, and my thoughts and wishes go out to everyone suffering in the wake of the event. But, this space has been filled with words of sadness and grief of late (when there have been words, that is), so I will not dwell on that tragedy at this time.
This past weekend, I celebrated my geek and gamer side in an epic fashion: I attended PAX East in Boston.
For those who don't know, I have been a gamer for most of my life. I have whiled away hours, days, weeks and years on various types of gaming pursuits, filling up what time I could spare on flights of fancy. Early on it was computer games, mostly single-player turn based simulations like the famous Civilization franchise and sometimes first-person-perspective shooting games like Half-Life. I never quite made the leap to the massively multi-player online games that are so popular these days.
As computer games surrendered their place of honor in my mind, collectible card games took their place. For years and years I got together with small groups of friends and played cards. We primarily played Magic: the Gathering, but we made occasional forays into Vampire: the Eternal Struggle, Star Wars, Star Trek, Wyvern, the Lord of the Rings card game, and others whose titles I have since forgotten.
My tastes continued to evolve, however, and I stopped playing collectible card games. (Influenced in no small amount by the fact that the cost of keeping up with the ever-changing landscape of Magic cards can be *really* expensive. Luckily, I got into the game early and had a lot of collectible cards that eventually were worth a fortune on the secondary market -- I'm pretty sure I broke even or made a small profit on my collection overall.) For the past couple of years, I've really gotten into board games. Not the standard fare that we're all familiar with from our childhoods -- Monopoly, Scrabble, and so forth -- but a wide range of games of various styles and flavors that come out of the renaissance of board games that has sprung up these past 15 years or so. Strategy games, horror games, deckbuilding games, cooperative games, dice games, tile-playing games, resource management games. I've discovered a love of pretty much anything that helps me get 6 friends together around the table for some fun and laughter, and maybe a beer or two.
As my gaming tastes wandered through those three massive territories of the mind, however, my foundation was always roleplaying games. It started when a friend introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons when I was 13 years old, and I've been playing these games ever since -- usually D&D, but I have tried a double handful of other games over the years. Roleplaying games engage my creative side and let me get together regularly with close friends to build entire worlds of shared imagination and cooperatively tell stories about heroism in the face of adversity, generosity in the face of loss, and the victory of light over the forces of darkness. How cool is that? Especially the getting together with friends part.
PAX East was a celebration of all that love of gaming, in the company of a few tens of thousands of people of like mind. (At last count, almost 70,000 people attended -- it was the largest gaming convention in the U.S.!) The lines for events were often long, and the food in the convention hall was too expensive, but in the face of the veritable tidal wave of shared joy concentrated in that massive building, these petty irritations were easily ignored. I spent most of three full days with a couple of close friends and smaller amounts of time with other friends I encountered while there, but I had something in common with everyone who attended: we loved games. It didn't matter if we played the same games or not. We had a shared vocabulary, and a shared understanding of the importance of a little fun with friends.
I could go into the details of what I did over the weekend -- the panels I attended, the games I played, the game I ran for a fun group of total strangers when the event organizers ran short of people to help run the event, my fanboy moment -- but such minutiae don't really communicate the power of the experience. I grew closer to the two friends who attended the convention with me as we gamed together, ate meals together, and talked about everything under the sun while waiting in line together. I discovered a few new friendships that have the potential to become real ones. I witnessed the amazing ability of 70,000 people to gather in one place without (as far as I ever heard or saw) any incidents of theft or violence against one another.
And in the midst of this exuberant celebration of fantasy, I witnessed an uncommon outpouring of generosity. There were event attendees selling home-baked goods to raise money to donate to a children's charity. People who had spent hundreds and hundred of dollars to travel to Boston for the weekend and were spending a small fortune for meals for a few days found a few dollars to give to homeless people they encountered on the nearby streets. By the end of the weekend, a coalition of gaming companies and game distributors had set up a system through which gamers could contribute to help alleviate the suffering in Japan caused by the earthquake that had happened just a couple of days before. Despite all the time gamers spend exploring imaginary worlds, many of us care about and give back to the real world we all have to live in.
There's a funny quote in an old X-Files episode that features a gamer in a not-so-complimentary light. After telling Mulder about some daring actions he took, the gamer character says "I didn't play Dungeons and Dragons all those years and not learn something about bravery." That might not be an exact quote, of course; it's been years since I watched the episode. As amusing as the moment is (and I confess, I laughed), there's a bit of truth at the heart of it. Many of the games I play feature triumphing over adversity, putting an end to something horrible, pitting the limited resources of the heroes against the forces of evil and/or nature despite long odds of success, and that can easily translate to the real world. I may not wear steel armor and carry a sword with which to smite villains, and I may not be able to cast magical spells to reshape the fabric of reality, but I am not helpless against the evils of our day and age. I have money, time and compassion. These are powerful weapons, and I am not afraid to use them.
This past weekend, I celebrated my geek and gamer side in an epic fashion: I attended PAX East in Boston.
For those who don't know, I have been a gamer for most of my life. I have whiled away hours, days, weeks and years on various types of gaming pursuits, filling up what time I could spare on flights of fancy. Early on it was computer games, mostly single-player turn based simulations like the famous Civilization franchise and sometimes first-person-perspective shooting games like Half-Life. I never quite made the leap to the massively multi-player online games that are so popular these days.
As computer games surrendered their place of honor in my mind, collectible card games took their place. For years and years I got together with small groups of friends and played cards. We primarily played Magic: the Gathering, but we made occasional forays into Vampire: the Eternal Struggle, Star Wars, Star Trek, Wyvern, the Lord of the Rings card game, and others whose titles I have since forgotten.
My tastes continued to evolve, however, and I stopped playing collectible card games. (Influenced in no small amount by the fact that the cost of keeping up with the ever-changing landscape of Magic cards can be *really* expensive. Luckily, I got into the game early and had a lot of collectible cards that eventually were worth a fortune on the secondary market -- I'm pretty sure I broke even or made a small profit on my collection overall.) For the past couple of years, I've really gotten into board games. Not the standard fare that we're all familiar with from our childhoods -- Monopoly, Scrabble, and so forth -- but a wide range of games of various styles and flavors that come out of the renaissance of board games that has sprung up these past 15 years or so. Strategy games, horror games, deckbuilding games, cooperative games, dice games, tile-playing games, resource management games. I've discovered a love of pretty much anything that helps me get 6 friends together around the table for some fun and laughter, and maybe a beer or two.
As my gaming tastes wandered through those three massive territories of the mind, however, my foundation was always roleplaying games. It started when a friend introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons when I was 13 years old, and I've been playing these games ever since -- usually D&D, but I have tried a double handful of other games over the years. Roleplaying games engage my creative side and let me get together regularly with close friends to build entire worlds of shared imagination and cooperatively tell stories about heroism in the face of adversity, generosity in the face of loss, and the victory of light over the forces of darkness. How cool is that? Especially the getting together with friends part.
PAX East was a celebration of all that love of gaming, in the company of a few tens of thousands of people of like mind. (At last count, almost 70,000 people attended -- it was the largest gaming convention in the U.S.!) The lines for events were often long, and the food in the convention hall was too expensive, but in the face of the veritable tidal wave of shared joy concentrated in that massive building, these petty irritations were easily ignored. I spent most of three full days with a couple of close friends and smaller amounts of time with other friends I encountered while there, but I had something in common with everyone who attended: we loved games. It didn't matter if we played the same games or not. We had a shared vocabulary, and a shared understanding of the importance of a little fun with friends.
I could go into the details of what I did over the weekend -- the panels I attended, the games I played, the game I ran for a fun group of total strangers when the event organizers ran short of people to help run the event, my fanboy moment -- but such minutiae don't really communicate the power of the experience. I grew closer to the two friends who attended the convention with me as we gamed together, ate meals together, and talked about everything under the sun while waiting in line together. I discovered a few new friendships that have the potential to become real ones. I witnessed the amazing ability of 70,000 people to gather in one place without (as far as I ever heard or saw) any incidents of theft or violence against one another.
And in the midst of this exuberant celebration of fantasy, I witnessed an uncommon outpouring of generosity. There were event attendees selling home-baked goods to raise money to donate to a children's charity. People who had spent hundreds and hundred of dollars to travel to Boston for the weekend and were spending a small fortune for meals for a few days found a few dollars to give to homeless people they encountered on the nearby streets. By the end of the weekend, a coalition of gaming companies and game distributors had set up a system through which gamers could contribute to help alleviate the suffering in Japan caused by the earthquake that had happened just a couple of days before. Despite all the time gamers spend exploring imaginary worlds, many of us care about and give back to the real world we all have to live in.
There's a funny quote in an old X-Files episode that features a gamer in a not-so-complimentary light. After telling Mulder about some daring actions he took, the gamer character says "I didn't play Dungeons and Dragons all those years and not learn something about bravery." That might not be an exact quote, of course; it's been years since I watched the episode. As amusing as the moment is (and I confess, I laughed), there's a bit of truth at the heart of it. Many of the games I play feature triumphing over adversity, putting an end to something horrible, pitting the limited resources of the heroes against the forces of evil and/or nature despite long odds of success, and that can easily translate to the real world. I may not wear steel armor and carry a sword with which to smite villains, and I may not be able to cast magical spells to reshape the fabric of reality, but I am not helpless against the evils of our day and age. I have money, time and compassion. These are powerful weapons, and I am not afraid to use them.
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Parting Wisdom
This past week, I spent a couple of days in Tennessee with most of my immediate family, mourning the passing of my 21-year-old nephew Gerhard Aaron Hummelt. I wasn't going to write about it -- many of the details are private and should be kept so -- but every time I sat down over the past few days to post an entry here, my mind wandered back to this topic and I seem unable to write about anything else at the moment.
I mentioned in my previous post that my nephew had gotten himself into trouble in recent years, and that he was working to put his life back in order. What I didn't really mention were the positive memories I have of him growing up, memories that were brought back in full force when I saw the slide show of photos from his life that was being played at the memorial service. In those photos, he was nearly always smiling, always in the company of his brother and (later) his sister, always excited and energized and happy to be with his family. My memories of him were the same. His energy and exuberance could be a bit overwhelming at times, but he always loved spending time with his family, doing things together.
There were times when my parents brought all three of my sister's children up to Massachusetts for vacations, and I always got a phone call at those times. "Uncle Roger," Gerhard would ask, "are we going to see you while we're in Boston?" Sometimes, the answer was yes and sometimes it was no, depending on how busy my life was at the time, and what commitments I already had. On those occasions when I couldn't make it, Gerhard was never judgmental. A little sad that I wouldn't be joining them, he nonetheless expressed a genuine hope that I'd be able to join them the next time around.
I am ashamed to admit that I rarely looked forward to visiting with my sister's children when they were up this way. (And Michelle, if you read this, I am really sorry about that. Your kids are great. This was my shortcoming, and my loss.) Now that Gerhard is gone, I'm dealing with a bit of personal guilt. I'll never have the chance to make it up to him, but I can change my own behavior going forward. I can learn to focus on the positive, and I can make the most of the opportunities to spend time with my family that come my way. Heck, I can go out of my way to make those opportunities.
In his 21 years on this earth, Gerhard was an inquisitive soul. His thirst for knowledge was unquenchable, and he was always eager to learn. In his untimely departure from this earth, Gerhard taught me that I cannot take family for granted. It's important to make the most of each chance to be together, for there will not always be a next one.
I mentioned in my previous post that my nephew had gotten himself into trouble in recent years, and that he was working to put his life back in order. What I didn't really mention were the positive memories I have of him growing up, memories that were brought back in full force when I saw the slide show of photos from his life that was being played at the memorial service. In those photos, he was nearly always smiling, always in the company of his brother and (later) his sister, always excited and energized and happy to be with his family. My memories of him were the same. His energy and exuberance could be a bit overwhelming at times, but he always loved spending time with his family, doing things together.
There were times when my parents brought all three of my sister's children up to Massachusetts for vacations, and I always got a phone call at those times. "Uncle Roger," Gerhard would ask, "are we going to see you while we're in Boston?" Sometimes, the answer was yes and sometimes it was no, depending on how busy my life was at the time, and what commitments I already had. On those occasions when I couldn't make it, Gerhard was never judgmental. A little sad that I wouldn't be joining them, he nonetheless expressed a genuine hope that I'd be able to join them the next time around.
I am ashamed to admit that I rarely looked forward to visiting with my sister's children when they were up this way. (And Michelle, if you read this, I am really sorry about that. Your kids are great. This was my shortcoming, and my loss.) Now that Gerhard is gone, I'm dealing with a bit of personal guilt. I'll never have the chance to make it up to him, but I can change my own behavior going forward. I can learn to focus on the positive, and I can make the most of the opportunities to spend time with my family that come my way. Heck, I can go out of my way to make those opportunities.
In his 21 years on this earth, Gerhard was an inquisitive soul. His thirst for knowledge was unquenchable, and he was always eager to learn. In his untimely departure from this earth, Gerhard taught me that I cannot take family for granted. It's important to make the most of each chance to be together, for there will not always be a next one.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
In Threes
I have heard it said that bad things happen in threes. (I think I've also heard it about good things, but this isn't the week for that, apparently.) I realize that bad things (and good) are happening all the time, but I'm pretty sure the saying is in relation to events with a personal impact. This week, the Universe seems to have decided to reaffirm the triplicity of unfortunate occurrences.
On Wednesday, Tiffany Zellin passed away after a month-long battle with a brain tumor. Tiffany was a new friend, someone I met while part of a production of Cinderella. She was only 30 and just starting a family with her husband Lou. I didn't know her very well, but she always struck me as a vibrant person, full of life and willing to take guff from absolutely no one. The circumstances of her death are truly tragic, and her passing will have a large impact on the ACT Andover family, as she and her husband were part of it for so long. I can't imagine what Lou is going through -- I'd be a useless wreck if I lost my wife -- but my thoughts and wishes go out to him.
Very late Thursday night, Billy Day died after two weeks in the intensive care unit following a nasty fall down a set of stairs that left him with broken ribs, punctured lungs, and a number of other fractured bones. He was a step-uncle, married to my step-mother's sister. He was in his mid-to-late 60's (and it strikes me as sad that I don't know exactly), and I've known him for the past 30 years. He was an incredibly dedicated husband and a fun guy at parties, always quick with a joke and a laugh, always helping to lighten the mood. My stepmother and her whole family have been standing vigil at the hospital ever since he was admitted, and they're devastated by his loss. I am sad that despite various opportunities, I didn't get to know him better.
In the small hours of Friday morning, Gerhardt Hummelt died in a fire. Trapped in a small living space attached to a barn, he was unable to escape the fire that started while he slept, though he was able to call 911 to summon emergency services to deal with the fire before it spread to the nearby house. He was my nephew, and he was only 21. He'd been through some rough patches and had gotten himself into trouble with the law a couple of times, but he was working hard to get his life back on track. It looked like he was making real progress there. My sister is devastated by the loss of her son, and my mother (who lives just down the road from her) is a wreck. I am stunned by the suddenness of it and saddened that I won't get to see what kind of man he managed to make himself into. This morning I have been playing back my memories of him as a child and as a teenager.
Is there sense to be made of these events or the timing of them? Or is the desire for sense just an artifact of being human and grappling with these losses? Any one of these deaths would be trying, but three in rapid succession boggles the mind a little bit. Some people seek strength in God, but as an agnostic that is not my way. I find my strength within, reflecting on how I knew these people who are now gone, thinking about how I might have known them better, and trying to draw on those thoughts to be closer to the people in my life.
I don't know what awaits us beyond death, but if there is some sort of paradise or reward, I hope that Tiffany, Billy and Gerhardt are having a great time there, free from their earthly cares and relieved of the pain they suffered. We who are still here will remember them fondly, share stories about them at gatherings of family and friends, and keep them in our hearts. We won't forget them, and in that respect they will never be gone.
In the meantime, the Universe can go suck an egg.
On Wednesday, Tiffany Zellin passed away after a month-long battle with a brain tumor. Tiffany was a new friend, someone I met while part of a production of Cinderella. She was only 30 and just starting a family with her husband Lou. I didn't know her very well, but she always struck me as a vibrant person, full of life and willing to take guff from absolutely no one. The circumstances of her death are truly tragic, and her passing will have a large impact on the ACT Andover family, as she and her husband were part of it for so long. I can't imagine what Lou is going through -- I'd be a useless wreck if I lost my wife -- but my thoughts and wishes go out to him.
Very late Thursday night, Billy Day died after two weeks in the intensive care unit following a nasty fall down a set of stairs that left him with broken ribs, punctured lungs, and a number of other fractured bones. He was a step-uncle, married to my step-mother's sister. He was in his mid-to-late 60's (and it strikes me as sad that I don't know exactly), and I've known him for the past 30 years. He was an incredibly dedicated husband and a fun guy at parties, always quick with a joke and a laugh, always helping to lighten the mood. My stepmother and her whole family have been standing vigil at the hospital ever since he was admitted, and they're devastated by his loss. I am sad that despite various opportunities, I didn't get to know him better.
In the small hours of Friday morning, Gerhardt Hummelt died in a fire. Trapped in a small living space attached to a barn, he was unable to escape the fire that started while he slept, though he was able to call 911 to summon emergency services to deal with the fire before it spread to the nearby house. He was my nephew, and he was only 21. He'd been through some rough patches and had gotten himself into trouble with the law a couple of times, but he was working hard to get his life back on track. It looked like he was making real progress there. My sister is devastated by the loss of her son, and my mother (who lives just down the road from her) is a wreck. I am stunned by the suddenness of it and saddened that I won't get to see what kind of man he managed to make himself into. This morning I have been playing back my memories of him as a child and as a teenager.
Is there sense to be made of these events or the timing of them? Or is the desire for sense just an artifact of being human and grappling with these losses? Any one of these deaths would be trying, but three in rapid succession boggles the mind a little bit. Some people seek strength in God, but as an agnostic that is not my way. I find my strength within, reflecting on how I knew these people who are now gone, thinking about how I might have known them better, and trying to draw on those thoughts to be closer to the people in my life.
I don't know what awaits us beyond death, but if there is some sort of paradise or reward, I hope that Tiffany, Billy and Gerhardt are having a great time there, free from their earthly cares and relieved of the pain they suffered. We who are still here will remember them fondly, share stories about them at gatherings of family and friends, and keep them in our hearts. We won't forget them, and in that respect they will never be gone.
In the meantime, the Universe can go suck an egg.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Easily Distracted
I realized tonight that it's been nearly a week since my last post. I was a little surprised to discover that. When I started this blog, I was all fired up and it seemed I had plenty to write about. I posted every other day for a while. And then a week went by.
In the grand scheme of things, I realize a week's not a big deal. Lots of things happen less frequently. But I found myself wondering why I waited so long after a strong start. (And I'm pretty sure I'm the only one judging that, but I tend to overanalyze pretty much everyThing I do.)
Looking back on this past week, I see that I worked a lot to get some project tasks completed on schedule -- part of trying to look good at the new job. I went to the Wincentennial show, had a dinner party with friends, saw a movie and spent a lot of time lounging with my wife (an important activity in its own right). I shoveled about a metric ton of snow and chopped about 100 cubic feet of ice off my driveway. All in all, it was a fairly active week.
But even in the midst of all that, it can't be that hard to find an hour every other day or so, can it? Of course it can't. The problem is that I tend to be, as the title says, easily distracted. Often, when I'm working on task A, I find myself thinking about task B or coming up with ideas for task C. When I'm writing code at work, I have ideas for my D&D campaign and want to write them up. When I get ready to sit down at home to write up those ideas, I decide instead to get caught up on a month's worth of web comics or spend hours catching up on recorded TV shows. And when I set out to watch TV, I find my mind wandering to the latest problem at work and what I'll do to solve it.
This doesn't happen all the time, obviously, or else I'd never get anything done. But it happens often enough that I've noticed the pattern. (In fact, I've written this post while watching TV with my wife, doing laundry, checking on the Superbowl score and eating dinner; it's taken a few hours to finish.) Maybe being more aware of it, I will spend less time being distracted and more time achieving focus on the task at hand. And who knows, maybe staying focused on one thing at a time will actually make it easier to get more done.
In the grand scheme of things, I realize a week's not a big deal. Lots of things happen less frequently. But I found myself wondering why I waited so long after a strong start. (And I'm pretty sure I'm the only one judging that, but I tend to overanalyze pretty much everyThing I do.)
Looking back on this past week, I see that I worked a lot to get some project tasks completed on schedule -- part of trying to look good at the new job. I went to the Wincentennial show, had a dinner party with friends, saw a movie and spent a lot of time lounging with my wife (an important activity in its own right). I shoveled about a metric ton of snow and chopped about 100 cubic feet of ice off my driveway. All in all, it was a fairly active week.
But even in the midst of all that, it can't be that hard to find an hour every other day or so, can it? Of course it can't. The problem is that I tend to be, as the title says, easily distracted. Often, when I'm working on task A, I find myself thinking about task B or coming up with ideas for task C. When I'm writing code at work, I have ideas for my D&D campaign and want to write them up. When I get ready to sit down at home to write up those ideas, I decide instead to get caught up on a month's worth of web comics or spend hours catching up on recorded TV shows. And when I set out to watch TV, I find my mind wandering to the latest problem at work and what I'll do to solve it.
This doesn't happen all the time, obviously, or else I'd never get anything done. But it happens often enough that I've noticed the pattern. (In fact, I've written this post while watching TV with my wife, doing laundry, checking on the Superbowl score and eating dinner; it's taken a few hours to finish.) Maybe being more aware of it, I will spend less time being distracted and more time achieving focus on the task at hand. And who knows, maybe staying focused on one thing at a time will actually make it easier to get more done.
Monday, January 31, 2011
A Little Perspective
The other night, I was fighting my way home through crazy Friday night traffic. I was hungry, and I was late for dinner with my wife and some of our friends. I kept trying alternate routes in desperate attempts to shave 30 or so seconds off the duration of the trip. As I made my way through the center of town, I got caught at a red light because the person driving ahead of me lacked my reckless willingness to ignore the yellow light when in a hurry. And then the railroad gates came down, halting the traffic in all directions for several minutes while we waited for the commuter rail train to pass by. In that moment of hunger and frustration -- rarely a pleasant combination -- I whipped out my iPhone and posted to facebook (no cars were moving, so I figured it was okay) that "I think God just kicked me in the nuts."
Seriously? Even allowing for that bit of a flair for the dramatic that I indulge in from time to time, what the heck was that? First off, if God exists -- and as an agnostic, I don't take a stand on that question either way -- I'm sure He has better things to do than make me late for dinner and increase my stress. And second, if He wanted to make me as miserable as I would be from a real kick to that oh-so-sensitive region, being an extra five minutes late for dinner hardly qualifies.
In the middle of a frustrating moment, it's easy to indulge negative emotions, to feel put upon and beleaguered, but that doesn't help. When I'm stuck in traffic and losing a little extra time to the idiocy of the so-called drivers around me, it's annoying, but I have to remind myself that it's far from catastrophic. When the waiter is slow to take my order or the kitchen doesn't get it right, it's frustrating, but it's not the end of the world. When the DVR messes up and doesn't record a program I wanted to watch, it's irritating, but I'll live. Talk about first world problems...
What is being late for dinner compared to not having any idea if you'll have it at all? What is a little ice build-up on the front door of the house compared to resorting to a cardboard box for shelter? What is a little selfishness from a family member compared to the sudden and unexpected death of a loved one? Or worse, compared to the heartache of not knowing, day after day after day, whether your loved one will wake up or slip away? If anyone is justified in thinking that God has kicked him in the nuts, it's a person facing that kind of uncertainty and loss.
Some people have it rough. I am lucky enough not to be one of those people. I have rough days, or at least days that feel rough, but I am very fortunate, and that's something I need to remember and reflect on more often. There are people out there dealing with real challenges and real problems. Real pain, real heartache, real tragedy. The next time I'm feeling put upon, I hope that I'll remember to take a moment and put it in perspective, and then be thankful that my challenges are small and easily managed.
Seriously? Even allowing for that bit of a flair for the dramatic that I indulge in from time to time, what the heck was that? First off, if God exists -- and as an agnostic, I don't take a stand on that question either way -- I'm sure He has better things to do than make me late for dinner and increase my stress. And second, if He wanted to make me as miserable as I would be from a real kick to that oh-so-sensitive region, being an extra five minutes late for dinner hardly qualifies.
In the middle of a frustrating moment, it's easy to indulge negative emotions, to feel put upon and beleaguered, but that doesn't help. When I'm stuck in traffic and losing a little extra time to the idiocy of the so-called drivers around me, it's annoying, but I have to remind myself that it's far from catastrophic. When the waiter is slow to take my order or the kitchen doesn't get it right, it's frustrating, but it's not the end of the world. When the DVR messes up and doesn't record a program I wanted to watch, it's irritating, but I'll live. Talk about first world problems...
What is being late for dinner compared to not having any idea if you'll have it at all? What is a little ice build-up on the front door of the house compared to resorting to a cardboard box for shelter? What is a little selfishness from a family member compared to the sudden and unexpected death of a loved one? Or worse, compared to the heartache of not knowing, day after day after day, whether your loved one will wake up or slip away? If anyone is justified in thinking that God has kicked him in the nuts, it's a person facing that kind of uncertainty and loss.
Some people have it rough. I am lucky enough not to be one of those people. I have rough days, or at least days that feel rough, but I am very fortunate, and that's something I need to remember and reflect on more often. There are people out there dealing with real challenges and real problems. Real pain, real heartache, real tragedy. The next time I'm feeling put upon, I hope that I'll remember to take a moment and put it in perspective, and then be thankful that my challenges are small and easily managed.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Hair of the Dog
My last post was a bit more...mundane than I expected this writing to be -- talking about the way I work from home but not really exploring any insight into what it means for or about me. I have a thought or two about such an insight, but I'm going to mull it over a bit longer. And I think it's okay if the "depth" of the posts varies somewhat -- I'm new to this, and it's kind of an experiment, so I'll be a while finding a voice and figuring out what works and what doesn't.
During the course of this week, my melancholy over the end of Into the Woods actually got stronger than it was the night that I started this blog. Other members of the cast started posting on facebook their own statements about being sad that the show was over, about missing each other, about wanting to hang out and do shows together again. At the same time, many of the same people were posting updates about the audition and casting process for ACT Andover's production of Guys and Dolls. It was fun to read these posts and watch the cast list take shape before my very eyes, but it was also saddening, since I wasn't part of the cast.
I have good reasons for choosing not to audition for Guys and Dolls. The performance weekend conflicts with an event that I really want to attend. I just started a new job with a new company and should focus on that for a little while. I was tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk and not ready to jump right back into auditions and rehearsals with no rest. All very rational reasons. All useless in the face of an emotional state of mind.
So, I decided to look around and see what other community theater options were available to me. I'd known for a while that there are a few groups nearby -- one each in at least four nearby towns, all no more than 15-20 minutes from my house -- but I was unprepared for the sheer quantity of theater in this area. There is A LOT of theater around here.
Before I knew it, the same gleeful focus that sometimes takes hold of my brain when I'm deeply immersed in an interesting coding challenge had taken hold of me in my search for local theater groups. I spent hours and hours looking up theater company web sites, checking drive distances, consulting my calendar for rehearsal and production date conflicts, looking up scripts and vocal ranges for characters. It was exhilarating. And before I knew it, the doldrums had evaporated. I still feel a nostalgic twinge when I think back to Woods and the amazing experience it was for me, but I'm no longer down in the dumps about it being over. Excitement for and anticipation of the auditions I'm planning over the next few weeks has replaced that sadness.
The lesson seems clear to me: stay involved in community theater. It clearly makes me happy, happier than I would have guessed a year ago. It has the added bonus of being something that my wife also loves to do, giving us something we can enjoy together, and that makes it all the more valuable. And now that I've washed the sadness away and gotten back to a happy frame of mind, it's nearly time to head out to the cast party for Into the Woods and hang out with all those crazy, awesome, talented, wonderful folks at least one more time. I'm very glad I have my excitement for the upcoming auditions to keep any returning sadness at bay.
During the course of this week, my melancholy over the end of Into the Woods actually got stronger than it was the night that I started this blog. Other members of the cast started posting on facebook their own statements about being sad that the show was over, about missing each other, about wanting to hang out and do shows together again. At the same time, many of the same people were posting updates about the audition and casting process for ACT Andover's production of Guys and Dolls. It was fun to read these posts and watch the cast list take shape before my very eyes, but it was also saddening, since I wasn't part of the cast.
I have good reasons for choosing not to audition for Guys and Dolls. The performance weekend conflicts with an event that I really want to attend. I just started a new job with a new company and should focus on that for a little while. I was tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk and not ready to jump right back into auditions and rehearsals with no rest. All very rational reasons. All useless in the face of an emotional state of mind.
So, I decided to look around and see what other community theater options were available to me. I'd known for a while that there are a few groups nearby -- one each in at least four nearby towns, all no more than 15-20 minutes from my house -- but I was unprepared for the sheer quantity of theater in this area. There is A LOT of theater around here.
Before I knew it, the same gleeful focus that sometimes takes hold of my brain when I'm deeply immersed in an interesting coding challenge had taken hold of me in my search for local theater groups. I spent hours and hours looking up theater company web sites, checking drive distances, consulting my calendar for rehearsal and production date conflicts, looking up scripts and vocal ranges for characters. It was exhilarating. And before I knew it, the doldrums had evaporated. I still feel a nostalgic twinge when I think back to Woods and the amazing experience it was for me, but I'm no longer down in the dumps about it being over. Excitement for and anticipation of the auditions I'm planning over the next few weeks has replaced that sadness.
The lesson seems clear to me: stay involved in community theater. It clearly makes me happy, happier than I would have guessed a year ago. It has the added bonus of being something that my wife also loves to do, giving us something we can enjoy together, and that makes it all the more valuable. And now that I've washed the sadness away and gotten back to a happy frame of mind, it's nearly time to head out to the cast party for Into the Woods and hang out with all those crazy, awesome, talented, wonderful folks at least one more time. I'm very glad I have my excitement for the upcoming auditions to keep any returning sadness at bay.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Snow Business
Another snowy day, another hour lost to the possibly-eternal struggle to keep the driveway clear, and another post. The way this winter's been going, if I only post on snow days, I'm sure to get a dozen entries done by the end of February...
Snow days are a bit strange for me. As a software engineer armed with a laptop and a VPN connection, snow just means I get to work from home (in my pajamas, win!) for the day and deal with the snow at my leisure. But it's also a totally different dynamic from being in the office. Many people have written about the challenges of working from home, the importance of maintaining focus and self-discipline, and so forth, so I'm not going to go into that. I thought I'd share a bit about the way my mindset and motivation vary through the day.
I start out strong, focused on work and raring to go. I usually start early, since I didn't have to drive to the office, and I manage to be productive for a few hours. During the middle of the day, my attention tends to wander away from work. I try to stay focused on work and even tell myself again and again that this time, I will, but I invariably find myself distracted by something shiny -- which is to say, anything not the work I get paid to do. I repeatedly check my personal email, frequently refresh my facebook page, run to the kitchen for yet another glass of water. I'm never completely away from work, but I'm not completely focused on it either.
Then, around mid-afternoon, my mindset shifts again, and suddenly I'm focused and cranking through stuff at work once more. Before I know it, my wife is in my office reminding me that it's way past quitting time. I look up to discover that several more hours have gone by, and I have somehow managed to do a full day's work. If not for my wife, I might have just continued working into the night. So, unlike some people who say that they have a hard time getting work done at home, I can get a lot done -- I just have to do it in chunks, with periods of personal goofing off in the middle. Sometimes I fluctuate between work and personal focus more frequently, but today had just a couple of major swings.
What I spent today's personal time doing -- apart from clearing the driveway and contributing to some amusing discussion threads on facebook -- has me pretty psyched for the weeks ahead. Still feeling the doldrums of the end of Into the Woods, I decided that the cure was more of the same, kind of like the way a drink is supposed to help with a hangover. More details on that next time.
Snow days are a bit strange for me. As a software engineer armed with a laptop and a VPN connection, snow just means I get to work from home (in my pajamas, win!) for the day and deal with the snow at my leisure. But it's also a totally different dynamic from being in the office. Many people have written about the challenges of working from home, the importance of maintaining focus and self-discipline, and so forth, so I'm not going to go into that. I thought I'd share a bit about the way my mindset and motivation vary through the day.
I start out strong, focused on work and raring to go. I usually start early, since I didn't have to drive to the office, and I manage to be productive for a few hours. During the middle of the day, my attention tends to wander away from work. I try to stay focused on work and even tell myself again and again that this time, I will, but I invariably find myself distracted by something shiny -- which is to say, anything not the work I get paid to do. I repeatedly check my personal email, frequently refresh my facebook page, run to the kitchen for yet another glass of water. I'm never completely away from work, but I'm not completely focused on it either.
Then, around mid-afternoon, my mindset shifts again, and suddenly I'm focused and cranking through stuff at work once more. Before I know it, my wife is in my office reminding me that it's way past quitting time. I look up to discover that several more hours have gone by, and I have somehow managed to do a full day's work. If not for my wife, I might have just continued working into the night. So, unlike some people who say that they have a hard time getting work done at home, I can get a lot done -- I just have to do it in chunks, with periods of personal goofing off in the middle. Sometimes I fluctuate between work and personal focus more frequently, but today had just a couple of major swings.
What I spent today's personal time doing -- apart from clearing the driveway and contributing to some amusing discussion threads on facebook -- has me pretty psyched for the weeks ahead. Still feeling the doldrums of the end of Into the Woods, I decided that the cure was more of the same, kind of like the way a drink is supposed to help with a hangover. More details on that next time.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
First Foray
I have on occasion wanted more... No, wait, that's an Into the Woods line. I've gotta stop applying that play to everything. Anyway, starting again...
I have on occasion thought about starting a blog. Many of my friends have blogs, and I certainly have read my fair share. Each time I thought about it, I found myself wondering what I had to write about that people would want to read. (And I realize I'm far from the first person to have that thought.) Before today, that train of thought always pulled into "maybe some other time" station and then finished up at the "I'm too busy" terminal.
Today, I found myself reflecting on my experience this past weekend with a community theater production of Into the Woods (hence the predilection to apply snippets of the play to real life). I got back on the stage this past summer with ACT Andover in the hopes of being able to land a part in this play, and I was successful. I had an absolute blast playing the part of Cinderella's Prince, and I was continually amazed by the passion and dedication I saw all around me as the production came to life. People worked their butts off and gave it their all, even, in one case, in the face of great personal tragedy. The audiences raved about the shows, and the entire thing became an experience I will remember for the rest of my life.
In the aftermath of the show, I felt the emotional downer I remembered from high school productions, but this was much more powerful and pervasive. I still haven't shaken it. Thinking about the weekend and the way I have felt in the couple of days since the show, I realized that the experience had re-awakened in me something that has been dormant for a long time.
I used to be much more artistically creative, but I've been coasting for years, safe and content in my professional career as a software engineer. Safe and content, yes, but not fulfilled. Not really. That realization led directly to my decision to start this blog -- the title is what I would like to be. A man of more words, be they spoken or written, acted or sung.
Will other people want to read this? I don't think it matters. They say that true writers would write even if no one ever read their words, so that's good enough for me. Writing is for the writer, and reading is for someone else. Will I keep up with this? Only time will tell, but it feels like the right time at last.
I have on occasion thought about starting a blog. Many of my friends have blogs, and I certainly have read my fair share. Each time I thought about it, I found myself wondering what I had to write about that people would want to read. (And I realize I'm far from the first person to have that thought.) Before today, that train of thought always pulled into "maybe some other time" station and then finished up at the "I'm too busy" terminal.
Today, I found myself reflecting on my experience this past weekend with a community theater production of Into the Woods (hence the predilection to apply snippets of the play to real life). I got back on the stage this past summer with ACT Andover in the hopes of being able to land a part in this play, and I was successful. I had an absolute blast playing the part of Cinderella's Prince, and I was continually amazed by the passion and dedication I saw all around me as the production came to life. People worked their butts off and gave it their all, even, in one case, in the face of great personal tragedy. The audiences raved about the shows, and the entire thing became an experience I will remember for the rest of my life.
In the aftermath of the show, I felt the emotional downer I remembered from high school productions, but this was much more powerful and pervasive. I still haven't shaken it. Thinking about the weekend and the way I have felt in the couple of days since the show, I realized that the experience had re-awakened in me something that has been dormant for a long time.
I used to be much more artistically creative, but I've been coasting for years, safe and content in my professional career as a software engineer. Safe and content, yes, but not fulfilled. Not really. That realization led directly to my decision to start this blog -- the title is what I would like to be. A man of more words, be they spoken or written, acted or sung.
Will other people want to read this? I don't think it matters. They say that true writers would write even if no one ever read their words, so that's good enough for me. Writing is for the writer, and reading is for someone else. Will I keep up with this? Only time will tell, but it feels like the right time at last.
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