Differences

According to my statement of the intent of this blog (check the header), I don't have an agenda. This remains true, although I've recently got all approvally about recent political events. Well, why not? Everybody likes an occasional feel-good. What's bothering me is that not everyone got a goody this time, and that's a shame, because if things work out this could be win-win for all of us.

Maybe it would be productive to define the terms "Liberal" and "Conservative".

Let's take Conservative first (ABC order). The term basically means "cautious". Politically it used to mean, "Be careful that in your zeal to improve things you don't accidentally throw out the baby with the bath water". It's chief value is as a mature check on the exuberance of well meant liberalism. In this sense "conservative" means "thoughtful". Lately, it appears that a number of those who support conservative principals are acting more as if they are cornered than thoughtful. These people could be more useful directing and refining "change" which is after all inevitable. Next.

Liberals are the weather changers of the human race. They are enthusiastic, and we find them in the leading edge of the storm front of political change. Good for them; they just can't seem to understand why everybody else doesn't get it. This kind of mind lock, as in the case of conservatives, leads to hard-headed foolishness. What would be useful, would be for those of both mind-sets to get their butts off their shoulders and sit them down around some hot caffeine drinks. And, of course, talk about it.

I find that I am conservative in that I want things to be as nice as I can remember them as being.

I'm also liberal enough to want things to be better.

Regards,
Daddy

A (conditional) Sigh Of Relief

Well, here we go again! I really love the way my country reinvents itself. There's no way I'm gonna get depressed (at least long term) by the "same-old same-old". Just when it looks like the future's in the Crapper, we manage to re-inspire ourselves, and when we do that have you noticed how it lights up the rest of the world? Apparently all it takes for them to believe in us is for us to believe in ourselves. The responsibility implied by that thought ought to scare every one of us shitless. I'm either going to have to stop drinking.......or really tie one on.

Anyway, here it is, the day after a major game changing election. My friends at the bar always want to know for whom I voted, and I always reply: "Truman". The truth is I've been voting for Harry Truman since I began voting no matter that he hasn't been running. He was the first president I can actually remember, and he was my Daddy's favorite. That's important to me. I keep on voting for Democrats in the hope that if one of them wins he'll turn into Harry Truman. I admit that's not much to hang your hat on, but it's what I've got. I also believe I'm going to win the lottery. And the check pool. Every week the world's made new, so I'm a winner 'till I lose.

This time in a sort of weird backhanded way I may have gotten my wish. It's true there is no superficial resemblance between "Black Obama" and "Harry the Hatman"*, but hang in here with me. Just for a minute.

Only time will tell (that's a pesimistic way of saying "I can't believe my good fortune"), but Barack H. Obama appears to have a fair dose of the go-it-alone courage and stubborness and the essential fair-mindedness of my old hero. If I'm right, then I win, and if I win, maybe I win for long enough that my optimistic spirit can get a well deserved rest. That'd be nice.

Regards,
Daddy

*A month before his marriage in 1919 Truman started a "haberdashery". The quotation marks are because hardly anyone remembers that the word means a mens clothing store that sold your basic suits and hats. During his later political campaigns his oponents put him down as a mere seller of hats. He won anyway.

Inspiration As A Thing

I really love to write. I'd write all the time if I could, but I need energy and inspiration. I am old and working for a living, so that takes care of the energy. As for the inspiration, it's a wonderful thing when it happens, but I've never been able to drive it. Also, sadly it sometimes strikes when I'm too tired or too busy to do anything with it. I say to myself that I'll take care of it later. Right.

Let me tell you something about jobs and their connection to inspiration. First of all there are interesting jobs and boring jobs, exciting jobs and dull jobs, ... yeah, OK. I've had both kinds, and neither of them inspire, because both are directed at a RESULT.

Sure, if you are doing interesting work and you have a great idea, well, that's inspiration ain't it? Yeah, except that it's connected. To the job. It's like the difference between an engineering solution and a scientific discovery. N'est pas?

OK, let's try looking at a different scenario. Suppose your assignment is to wash the mud off a two-acre asphalt parking lot with a garden hose. Wouldn't that give your mind an almost unlimited opportunity to free associate itself into creative Nirvana? No. What actually happens is that your mind avoids insanity by shutting down all of it's higher functions and goes into rocking-chair mode. You only wake up at break, lunch, and quiting time. The rest of the time you're just a hypnotized hose-wiggler.

So what, you ask, can inspire, and when, you inquire, will that divine flash occur? I cannot say for thee, but for myself it happens best when I am rested, rich(temporarily), and unencumbered with responsibility(out-of-work). As you can see, the occasions must be rare, but I live in hope of winning the lottery. Then you will see writing of the kind of which you can hardly dare dream. I kid you not.

Lookout.

Regards,
Daddy

Sadness Ain't Only For The Famous

Two Sundays ago we escorted Miz Olga Louise to her final resting place. She began her journey as the only one of her siblings to be born in this country, the daughter of Italian immigrants. Her accomplishments include marrying a man who has been the better for it, having children who have answered her bravery with pride, and giving to her community the service that only a dedicated nurse can give. She also had a quirky sense of humor that could take you by surprise.
Back when I was married to her daughter the four of us would play cards. She was always more interested in the social interaction than in the game, playing the best "Gracie Allen" I have ever seen. She was way smarter than she let on.
It's been, oh, maybe three or four years since we played cards, because, you see, Miz Olga Louise started losing her mind to that God Damned Alzheimer's disease. It was when she started to make mistakes she didn't mean to that the rest of us started to get scared.
In my last post I decried Terry Pratchett's diagnosis of Early- Onset-Alzheimer's-Disease. Let me tell you that early or late it doesn't make it any easier to lose somebody you value. I'm just lucky to have known the lady.

Regards,
Daddy

What Am I Complaining About?

Well, Idunno. My previous post comes on as a thinly disguised "pity-party". I shoulda took Mama's advice: "If you can't think of anything nice to say, shut up." The thing is, I am dissatisfied with a great many things. Of course I started out that way, and getting older has only added to the pile, but once in a while something happens that simply snatches me square. There's nothing like a good reference point.

Terry Pratchett, the brilliant British fantasy satirist, has recently been diagnosed with "early onset" Alzheimer's disease. Bummer. This guy, whom I have mentioned with praise in a previous post, would have to lose at least nine tenths of his mind for me to have a shot at impressing him. Not only that, but when I just checked the official fan site, I happened to notice it had 20,000 members. You gotta know that those who log on are just the tip of the iceberg, say ten percent. Even that sounds conservative. So, what does this all mean? It means that I, at least, don't have a damn thing to complain about. And that's unusual.

Think about it. What if you became unable to recall the people you know, the places you relate to, the things you are accustomed to do? What if you were unable to...think about it? You know, cancer kills people all the time, and they die knowing. But Alzheimer's obliterates your humanity while you are still breathing. There's a peculiar kind of gentle horror to it; you may cease to exist in any truly human way, but the old body keeps ticking, ticking, ticking.

I hope you are just as horrified as I by this ugly thing that can happen to even the best of us. I know that I am not a great intellect, but I would not even have the opportunity to publish this self serving blog did I not share in some measure the ability to reason that I feel has been beatified by minds like Terry Pratchett's.

Thanks Terry.

To get more info log on to www.TerryPratchettBooks.com or oook@discworldmonthly.co.uk

Lookout,
Regards, Daddy

Clarification,...maybe

I started this blog for the purpose of airing my mind out. I had some hopes that it would attract some comment, positive-negative-shmegative-whatever, but so far nothing. Look, I can't expect strangers to pay undue attention, but friends and relations, whom I have primed with hints and outright suggestions, have also withheld their gentle remonstrations. I guess I must be doing just great. My confidence continues to be supported by this "lack-of-attack". There's no telling to what degree I'll elevate my egotistical adventure in the absence of any "credible" opposition. "Bwah-ha-ha-ha-ha!!"

Hey, seriously, all you have to do to complain is to click on the "comments" link below each blog entry. Then say whatever is on your mind, if you have one. You can even be anonymous if you're Chicken. Or maybe you'd prefer to allow me to continue to believe in the absence of any opposition that "I am the greatest"!

I double-dog dare you.

Lookout,

Regards, Daddy

Magic Mirror

Yeah, by the way, I too have had a good look at the reflection in Cheney's glasses. If that's a naked woman she's anorexic, lacking a head, and dragging a tarp around behind her. Look, I don't like the guy for a lot of reasons, but let's please get our stuff together. Fantasy criticism is a waste of time. So, quit it, O.K.?

Regards,
Daddy

All the News That's Worth

Gotta tell you, I still have a little faith left in the human race. The latest guy to win big in one of the lotteries didn't keep his job ("I'm outta here"), didn't buy a pickup truck (yet), and although he bought the winning ticket independently of his usual office pool, he honored his pledge and gave his buddies each a million.

One of the most popular myths of which I'm aware is the one claiming that those who suddenly come into great wealth just can't handle it. Well, this guy sounds like he'll do just fine. You can't buy that kind of class.

That's the best I've heard lately.

Regards,
Daddy

A New Hope

Here ya go. Relative to post-before-last I've done a couple of minimal character studies that I'm just aching to expand, but obviously daring myself in public doesn't scare me at all. I'm perfectly willing to ditch a treasured plan when something better pop's up. Some time in the interim I have stumbled upon a new enthusiasm, and Baby, it's a goodun!

Look, in the back of my mind I've been fooling around with an idea for a web site having to do with castles and lightening and mad scientists, etc. Obviously I've never gotten over the Halloween infatuation (see earlier post). Then out of the blue I blunder into an on-line comic that's been developing since back in 'o2. It contains all those classic elements along with the kind of tongue-in-cheek humor I especially like. Since it comes out three times a week (Mon., Wed., and Fri.), that's a lot of pages to catch up on, but I did it. So, you see, I've been busy.

My friends, let me introduce you to
http://www.girlgeniusonline.com/index.php
I am pleased that some of you have shared my appreciation of Terry Pratchett's literature. Trust me on this one too. Girl Genius is a class act.

Now, I hope you'll pardon me. I have to go see what the Jagermonsters are doing; they so remind me of the people I drink beer with.

Lookout!

Regards, Daddy

A Side Trip

It's bad enough to have 634 channels of TV, none of which actually entertain me, so it's normally nice to have various news versions to inform my interest. But during this season of Presidential politics most of the information venues insist on informing me to the point of distraction. I already know for what I will vote. At the designated time, whoever stands for that will get mine. I'm not too worried about being fooled; liars seem to stick out like a sore thumb. Here's a clue: Smooth and greasy are just as slick. Anyway, at times like these I get backed into the History Channel and cartoons, and in desperation abandon my easy chair and flee to thee. Hear my cry, oh Muse.

So, now what? Well, just as I was about to proceed, my newest friend managed to become entangled in my computer's wires causing an unexpected shutdown and me to redo the previous paragraph. It was just as well; you wouldn't have liked the first version any better than I did in retrospect. My friend? She is a tabby cat of about 10 months, and she likes me.

I am a dog person. In this I am firm, I have always been comfortable with my outgoing canine buddies. They are so easy to like, so supportive of one's ego, and so willing to share any blame that is being distributed. We are talking about emotional accessories. In-dis-pensable.

Cats, on the other hand are famously independent and singularly un-impressible, unwilling to deify you or even to cut you some slack. Oh, they can be had, but there are terms.

If dogs and cats could speak the Queen's English, here's how they'd sound:
Dog: (bobbing his head) "G'die, Guv'nor, 'ow c'n oi 'elp yer Lordship?
Cat: (pausing upon entry) "'Ere now, wot's this?!"

Anyway, in spite of being a dog person I am living in a cat venue, and here is a strange thing. The more I ignore it, the more this creature strives to gain my attention. I think I may have found something more difficult and interesting to understand than the American political process, and that is a plus. I find that I am grateful. Here. kitty, kitty, kitty.

Lookout!

Regards, Daddy

Apologia, et cetera.

Actually, I wish I had had some "upcoming offerings" as back in autumn I assumed I would, but there you go, at that time I had no idea how many interests and issues would combine to sidetrack my creative urge. I will not share them with you in detail out of respect for both of us; I dare say you are as heartily sick of the Soap-Opera-Presented-As-Apocalypse by the popular media as I am. I will only say that I continue to avoid living under the bridge, and that my loved ones continue to expect the same. That I continue the same. Out of respect. Forget it.

Well, OK, I'll also say that I've been reading a lot. My family and friends know that a good Christmas present for me is a box of used books, preferably science fiction. By the way, I used to prefer the term "future fiction" until I've been forced to place some of my re-read classics in the "ago" category, as in 10 or 12 years ago. I put this down to the authors' youthful enthusiasm, never imagining they'd live as long as their readers. Recently I've almost been tempted to vote for "imaginative fiction", but...duh.

However, to the meat of the blather. With the assistance of several good book stores I am closing in on a complete collection of Terry Pratchett novels. The fact is I have been playing "catch-up", not having been aware of Discworld until a year ago (the "ago" factor doesn't count for totally "other" places). I cannot say about any other of my favorite prolific writers that I've never been disappointed. For what it's worth, take it from a reader; no matter what your favorite genre, Pratchett will satisfy. Your willing suspension of disbelief will encourage your "disk"-belief in an enchanted world . Do enjoy. www.TerryPratchettBooks.com

Finally, I have been working on some character profiles for a series of stories about the construction industry. I don't know if I'll ever be able to put them all together in a coherent manner, but just speaking of them is a way of putting pressure on myself to do so. Thanks for witnessing my double-dog-dare to myself.

Lookout.

Regards,
Daddy