Category Archives: Blogging

Vacation Day 7 – Couch Time

When I originally was planning my vacation I had set aside this day to make a road trip. I didn’t know where I wanted to go for sure, but I knew that a trip to Wilton and their old timey ice cream parlor was definitely on the list.

I had spent some time with a fellow computer miner and member of the Broken Furnace Support Group Micky in discussing places near Wilton. I had given some thought to visiting a mint shop in Deep River. A really big frying pan in Brandon. I was also thinking about visiting Muscatine to see the Button Factory Museum and the Button Factory Restaurant that was highly endorsed by Micky.

However, after spending an extra day in Minnesota and driving close to 800 miles in those 3 days, plus spending only about 30 minutes of waking time at home on Thursday I decided to just become reacquainted with my buddy the Clockwork Couch.

I vowed not to leave my house until Friday Night Supper Club.

For the most part, I made good on my vow. I sat on my couch and caught up An Artist’s Notebook. I sent Jen a text message wishing her a “Happy Ultrasound Day”. I texted Jill some frog pictures from a Personal Photo Project that will get published in about 3 weeks.

But mostly I tried to reduce myself to a vegetative state while watching movies. It must have worked, because the only movie I can remember watching for sure is Unforgiven. I realize now that I should have made it a western day. Backing it up with The Ox-Bow Incident, Once Upon a Time in the West and The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance.

However, I was only able to sit and do nothing for so long. So I contacted Mercury AKA The Salmon AKA The Dance Machine AKA The Ex-Lone Wolf AKA Willy to see if I could photograph him running.

A deal was brokered and I followed him around McHose Park (in a car) while he ran. I will publish those pictures in 5 weeks, but I will publish some of the other pictures I got while hanging around the best city park in the state.

You should be warned that one of these pictures is brutally frank in its portrayal of the biological function of sex. I suppose that it could be described as pornographic.

Ye be warned!


Linden

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

Vacation Day 7 - Couch Time

After our trip to McHose I went home and cleaned up for FNSC. While I was getting ready I got a text from Jen.

“Happy ultra sound day! Everything looks perfect! Don’t know if it is a boy or a girl… It’ll be a surprise.”

That was awesome news!

With news like that it was time to go and cap off a pretty lazy day with a great FNSC.

Regression

I haven’t been as active blogging lately. There are several reasons for this absence.

  1. I have been spending most of my free time organizing the basement.  When I completed this project I moved on to the upstairs.  I am on the verge of being quite downsized.  Hopefully this project will be completed next Wednesday.  Or at least, I hope that the only room that I will have left to organize and downsize will be the office after next Wednesday.  There is always a fair chance that I will just give up on the office and declare it a permanent disaster area.  We’ll see how the other two rooms go.
  2. When I haven’t been organizing, eliminating and donating I have been moving furniture around. True this doesn’t take much physical time, but it is emotionally draining.
  3. I have been working on a personal facial hair project.  For one 36 hour period, I wasn’t intelligent enough to put a noun against a verb in a meaningful way.
  4. The last couple of Friday Night Supper Clubs have been emotionally draining.  The night we viewed Free Walking at Jay’s apartment was a visceral experience.  What a great movie!  Then the Jucy Lucy replication Friday Night Supper Club was an overt failure that ended with My Great Shame.  It took me several days to recover from that shame.  At least Dawn got to become an auxiliary member of FNSC.  She allegedly doesn’t even mind that it is a “Boys Club”.  I will believe her when she makes a return appearance. Plus Trivia Night.  Well, I can’t even begin to discuss how emotionally draining Trivia Night ended up being.  Plus Trivia Night fell in that 36 hour period where I was a moron. However, Team Stache (Geri D., Willy, Jay, Jesse, Shannon, Papa Smurf and his wife) was an undeniable powerhouse.  I only wish I had pictures to share so that you could relive the experience.
  5. The cleaning crew (Jill) for my Oscars Watch had to work at her “real job” and got stuck in Minnesota.  Therefore I had to do my own cleaning.  The bed maker (Sara) also got stuck working her “real job” so I had to make my own bed.  I tried to get that out with a straight face.  Sara had to work, so I just shut my bedroom door and pretended that the room was how it was supposed to be.  My kitchen crew (Jen and Derrick, well mostly Derrick) came through with flying colors though.  Still, I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I should add that my neighbor joined the Watch and listening to his plan to get his life back together by finding a girlfriend so that he can have some self-esteem.  Well, that was psychologically draining.
  6. Perhaps the most important reason why I haven’t taken keyboard in hand and banged out some words is because during the move from one blogging entity to a different blogging entity, I decided to completely recategorize my blog. I started this process with well over 770 journal entries to review. Through this process I eliminated several journal entries.  Things that I didn’t need any longer. Like videos that no longer existed or calls to donate to a “charity” that would lie and claim that your donation was tax deductible.  I even broke down categories by people and I left the number of blog entries by the category.  A quick glance down the left side of this blog will tell you who I seem to write about the most.  Are you surprised that Jay is number 1?

A surprising side effect of my reading is that I think I might have regressed as a writer.  I fear that I might have peaked and it is all downhill from here on out.  Some of my writings in the not so distant past were clever, witty and dare I say it – brilliant.  I fear if I was ever going to write a play for ACTORS that was going to revolutionize costumed (believe me I have tried – Geri D. will not let me put an all-nude play on her stage) drama in a meaningful way, I have missed my chance.  Rather than eloquently crafting phrases, I now rely on cheap tricks (like my over reliance on parenthetical statements that makes me want to punch myself in the face almost as surely as if I had moustache) and broad allusions.  I have surely descended into hack-hood.  See, that isn’t even a real word.  It isn’t like the old days when I used to invent words that are sure to be the next surefire hits in our lexicon.  I can’t come up with a word so I throw out a dash and postfix and then I merrily go on my way.

It didn’t used to be like this.  (I just don’t mean that I used to not end sentences with prepositions.)  I used to be growing as a writer.  For example, when I was in the 4th Grade I wrote the worst creative writing stories ever!! They were based loosely on a pet rabbit that most likely died due to my neglect.  Only I stole some ideas from a few cartoons and movies that I enjoyed and out of my pencil and on to some poor dead tree came writing that was so dizzingly bad that it makes me want to vomit when I read just a few short passages:

When Fluffy found him he took him to Leo the Lion. Leo took care of him. Pucky told Leo his life story. Then he told Fluffy what Jack, Jill and Joan said. Fluffy said “I better get going” then he left. He hid in Raspberry Forest and said “By the power of Carrot Castle! I HAVE THE POWER!” Then he said, “Up, up and away and he flew off to find Joan, Jack and Jill. When he found them he landed and said, “Pucky sent me.” Superfluff said.  “Let’s get that wimpy rabbit!” Superfluff picked them up and twirled them until they gave up and promised to stop picking on Pucky. Then he went after Swampfrog. When he was fighting Swampfrog he said a few words he shouldn’t of. When he returned he taught Pucky karate. When he stepped into the pond, Jack, Jill, Joan and Swampfrog were waiting for him but Pucky beat them up in 15 fish winks. Now everybody calls him The Karate Duck.

Fortunately I can still say that I’m a better writer than I was when I put that horrible drivel to paper. But I did slightly improve by high school:

Eric reached deep into his soul, past the candy wrappers and half-eaten bagels, to the insult department. Through the corridor with doors marked with signs that read “whites”, “blondes”, “Scott Kendall” and “dogs”.  He opened the door that read: “The Mother of All Insults”.

The glowing light almost blinded him. The brilliant shiny box in the room was his destination. He opened the box and was greeted with a cloud of rolling smoke. He reached into the box and grabbed a piece of paper. Eric read the paper and he knew he had his death blow!

Back in reality Eric stared at the landing party and said… and I quote… “Huh, freaks of nature!”

He was puzzled when this didn’t break their morale. They were laughing at him. This was the Mother-of-All-Insults and they were laughing at HIM!

Chris looked at Eric and broke into another 5 minutes of laughter. Chris controlled himself and said, “You sir are our inferior. You call us freaks in an attempt to manipulate reality. We have evolved into a place of superiority over you!”

“Liar! I’m not listening to you!” Eric screamed.

“Scott. Who-o-o-o-o-o is this m-m-m-an?” Captain Punjab whimpered.

As you can tell, I have clearly progressed from the terrible wretch that wrote those words. I just hope that I am not regressing to that level again!

Personal Photo Project of the Week No. 4

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(500) Days of Winter
(500) Days of Winter

This picture is an homage to one of my favorite scenes from my favorite movie of 2009 – (500) Days of Summer.

Derrick posed for this picture when he was forced to vacate his abode for Girls Night on foggy Saturday night in January.

As it turns out, there wasn’t a blog on Thursday, so here is the love letter from Thursday’s Writer’s Almanac.

There are many prevailing popular perceptions of Emperor Napoleon of France — most of which began as British propaganda. While his name doesn’t often conjure images of a sweet hopeless romantic who pined for an older woman, the letters he wrote to his beloved Josephine reveal as much. In December 1795, he wrote to her:

“I wake filled with thoughts of you. Your portrait and the intoxicating evening which we spent yesterday have left my senses in turmoil. Sweet, incomparable Josephine, what a strange effect you have on my heart! … You are leaving at noon; I shall see you in three hours. Until then, mio dolce amor, a thousand kisses; but give me none in return, for they set my blood on fire.”

Napoleon and Josephine were married in 1796; he was 26 and she was 32, a widow. He wrote to her from all across Europe, when he was out waging military campaigns. The year they married he wrote to her:

“I have not spent a day without loving you; I have not spent a night without embracing you; I have not so much as drunk one cup of tea without cursing the pride and ambition which force me to remain apart from the moving spirit of my life. In the midst of my duties, whether I am at the head of my army or inspecting the camps, my beloved Josephine stands alone in my heart, occupies my mind, fills my thoughts. If I am moving away from you with the speed of the Rhone torrent, it is only that I may see you again more quickly. If I rise to work in the middle of the night, it is because this may hasten by a matter of days the arrival of my sweet love. … I ask of you neither eternal love, nor fidelity, but simply … truth, unlimited honesty. The day you say ‘I love you less,’ will mark the end of my love and the last day of my life. If my heart were base enough to love without being loved in return I would tear it to pieces. Josephine! Josephine! Remember what I have sometimes said to you: Nature has endowed me with a virile and decisive character. It has built ours out of lace and gossamer. Have you ceased to love me? Forgive me, love of my life, my soul is racked by conflicting forces.

My heart, obsessed by you, is full of fears which prostrate me with misery … I am distressed not to be calling you by name. I shall wait for you to write it. Farewell! Ah! If you love me less you can never have loved me. In that case I shall truly be pitiable.

Bonaparte

P.S. — The war this year has changed beyond recognition. I have had meat, bread, and fodder distributed; my armed cavalry will soon be on the march. My soldiers are showing inexpressible confidence in me; you alone are a source of chagrin to me; you alone are the joy and torment of my life.”

And from Friday:

Zelda Fitzgerald, née Sayre, was F. Scott Fitzgerald’s great muse and more. He modeled many of his characters after her, and he even included lines in his books that were from letters that Zelda had written him.

The two went on their first date on her 18th birthday. Her family was wary of him, and she wouldn’t marry him until his first novel was actually published. Zelda was still 18 when she wrote this letter to Scott in the spring of 1919:

“Sweetheart,
Please, please don’t be so depressed — We’ll be married soon, and then these lonesome nights will be over forever — Maybe you won’t understand this, but sometimes when I miss you most, it’s hardest to write — and you always know when I make myself — Just the ache of it all — and I can’t tell you.

How can you think deliberately of life without me — If you should die — O Darling — darling Scott — It’d be like going blind. I know I would, too, — I’d have no purpose in life — just a pretty — decoration. Don’t you think I was made for you? I feel like you had me ordered — and I was delivered to you — to be worn — I want you to wear me, like a watch-charm or a buttonhole bouquet — to the world. And then, when we’re alone, I want to help — to know that you can’t do anything without me.

One week after This Side of Paradise appeared in print, Zelda and Scott got married at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City. They became known as the quintessential Jazz Age couple: beautiful, flashy, with money, and often drunk in public. The year they married, Zelda wrote to Scott:

“I look down the tracks and see you coming — and out of every haze & mist your darling rumpled trouser are hurrying to me — Without you, dearest dearest, I couldn’t see or hear or feel or think — or live — I love you so and I’m never in all our lives going to let us be apart another night. It’s like begging for mercy of a storm or killing Beauty or growing old, without you.

Lover, Lover, Darling — Your Wife”

Happy Birthday to the Wentworth Warrior!

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There is good news on the commenting front. Now when you leave a comment on this blog you will have the option of checking a box that will subscribe you to future comments left on the blog. That means that when a comment is left after your comment, you will get an email notification and you will find out the answers to questions like: “Did you name the fish from ‘Open Mic Night’?”

Today is Bill’s Birthday. Unfortunately I have not seen Bill for 2 years now, so this is the most recent picture I have of Bill:


Bill

Fortunately, Jesse and I are heading out to Omaha on Friday to celebrate the anniversary of Bill’s birth with Bill’s Omaha Crew. We have never met Bill’s Omaha Crew, so this could be an encounter for the ages. Or not… We will find out on Friday.

Today’s Love Letter from The Writer’s Almanac:

Playwright, poet, and Dublin wit Oscar Wilde was married with two children when he met Lord Alfred Douglas, nicknamed “Bosie,” an Oxford undergraduate student who edited the school’s literary magazine, The Spirit Lamp. Bosie had written a glowing review of Wilde’s play Salome (1891, Wilde first wrote it in French), and the poet Lionel Johnson introduced Wilde and Douglas later that year, in the summer of 1891. The first six months of their relationship wasn’t physically intimate, but during that time Wilde wrote to Douglas letters like this one:

“My own dear boy — Your sonnet is quite lovely and it is a marvel that those red roseleaf lips of yours should be made no less for the music of song than for the madness of kissing. Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry. You know that Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days. Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? Do go there and cool your hands in the grey twilight of Gothic things, and come here whenever you like. It is a lovely place; it only lacks you …

Always with undying love, yours, Oscar”

The two went off on vacation in February 1895, and Douglas’s father, who disliked his son and detested Wilde, left a visiting card at Wilde’s social club in England accusing Wilde of being a “posing sodomite,” though he famously spelled the latter word wrong. Douglas didn’t like his dad and encouraged Wilde to sue for criminal libel. The trial went badly, and his dad’s detectives hunted up all sorts of evidence against Wilde’s sexual doings, even bringing forth male prostitutes to testify. Wilde dropped his lawsuit, but was then charged with “gross indecency.” He was convicted and sentenced to two years of prison and hard labor. From prison in May 1895, he wrote this letter to Douglas:

“My sweet rose, my delicate flower, my lily of lilies, it is perhaps in prison that I am going to test the power of love. I am going to see if I cannot make the bitter warders sweet by the intensity of the love I bear you. I have had moments when I thought it would be wise to separate. Ah! Moments of weakness and madness! Now I see that would have mutilated my life, ruined my art, broken the musical chords which make a perfect soul. Even covered with mud I shall praise you, from the deepest abysses I shall cry to you. In my solitude you will be with me. I am determined not to revolt but to accept every outrage through devotion to love, to let my body be dishonored so long as my soul may always keep the image of you. From your silken hair to your delicate feet you are perfection to me. Pleasure hides love from us, but pain reveals it in its essence. O dearest of created things, if someone wounded by silence and solitude comes to you, dishonored, a laughing-stock, Oh! You can close his wounds by touching them and restore his soul which unhappiness had for a moment smothered. Nothing will be difficult for you then, and remember, it is that hope which makes me live, and that hope alone. What wisdom is to the philosopher, what God is to his saint, you are to me. To keep you in my soul, such is the goal of this pain which men call life. O my love, you whom I cherish above all things, white narcissus in an unmown field, think of the burden which falls to you, a burden which love alone can make light. … I love you, I love you, my heart is a rose which your love has brought to bloom, my life is a desert fanned by the delicious breeze of your breath, and whose cool spring are your eyes; the imprint of your little feet makes valleys of shade for me, the odour of your hair is like myrrh, and wherever you go you exhale the perfumes of the cassia tree.

“Love me always, love me always. You have been the supreme, the perfect love of my life; there can be no other…”

I would just like to add that I hope that at some point in my future, somebody writes a sentence about me that ends with “… and Iowa wit Christopher D. Bennett…”

Amazing Weekend

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I did have a couple of late submissions for RWPE. Here are a couple of bonus FRAMING pictures.


IMAGE LOST
Julie Johnson

IMAGE LOST
Michael Vest

I had an amazing weekend. I would just like to share a few of the highlights. In no particular order, besides chronological:

  • I ate supper on Friday night at Jeff’s Pizza with Teresa and Jesse. I love their pepperoni rolls.
  • I got to watch Jesus Christ Superstar at Stephens with Mom, Jesse and Teresa. It was an awesome production, with the exception of the geriatric Ted Neeley, who has continued to suck it up into his 60s. I firmly believe that the only acceptable definition of Hell is “separation from God”. But if I were to believe in a personal punishment vision of Hell, it might be that I get up to what I think is Heaven because Jesus is there. But then he opens his mouth and sounds like Ted Neeley. I would have to pump my fist and scream, “You win this round vengeful God! You win this round!” Sorry Shannon, but that is the way it is.
  • I got to chauffeur Jim out of the Cyclone State for only the 2nd time since 1987. It was the first time he has left the state for an “extended” period of time since 1987 when he took Nate to see a St. Louis Cardinals game. I think he might have enjoyed it as he is considering leaving the state again this Summer to see the Twins play the Braves on June 12 & 13.
  • I got to see Bethany’s new house. It is pretty sweet. They have managed to put down a new wood floor, new tile in the kitchen and new carpet in the rest of the house. Her new fridge is the coolest fridge I’ve ever seen. They painted all the rooms and they got the paint for free because they bought it on Christmas Eve and the Sherwin Williams employee just gave it to them as a Christmas Present because they were the only customers he had that day.
  • I got to try my first (and won’t be the last) Jucy Lucy. Yes, there is no “i” in Jucy. There are two restaurants that lay claim to having invented the Twin City curiosity. We went to Matt’s Bar based on the recommendation of Becca’s boyfriend Gelli. He insisted that they have the superior Jucy Lucy. A Jucy Lucy is a cheeseburger that has the cheese inside the meat patty rather than on top. A piece of cheese is surrounded by raw meat and cooked until it melts. The end result is a hamburger with a molten core of cheese. The sandwich is both incredibly tasty and slightly dangerous. You have to be careful with the first bite because if you bite into it too aggressively you are rewarded with an explosion of boiling cheese. This cheese explosion is both tasty and painful. A rare combination. The two restaurants that claim to have invented the burger are only a few blocks apart. Matt’s Bar does not use the “i” in juicy. The 5-8 Club does use the “i”. They both have used this spelling in their marketing. Matt’s Bar boasts “if it’s spelled correctly, you’re at the wrong place.” The 5-8 club boasts “if it’s spelled right, it’s done right”. In a future trip to Minnesota, I will give the 5-8 Club a try. I might also venture into St. Paul to try the Cajun Lucy served at the Groveland Tap.
  • Stopped at a quaint little store called Tom’s Popcorn Shop. I picked up 4 types of popcorn. A chocolate popcorn that ended up being terrible. Jill compared it to Cocoa Puffs and that was a very accurate assessment. A double caramel and mixed nuts variety ended up being very tasty. A caramel and peanuts variety was tasty. The banana popcorn I am munching on right now isn’t too bad.
  • I got to see the bank where Bethany works and pick up two new pairs of shoes at a nearby Burlington Coat Factory. My injured foot is already starting to feel better since I switched shoes.
  • I made Sara’s dream come true by wandering around IKEA with Bethany and Jim. Okay, mostly with Bethany. I think Jim was ready to go 5 minutes after stepping in the door. I didn’t get to see all of IKEA, but I did get to see a group of girls acting out the scene from (500) Days of Summer (have I told you lately how much I love that movie!) that is set in IKEA. That warmed my heart a bit. I also fell in love with their collection of butcher block tables and I have decided to get rid of my kitchen table and replace it with a small butcher block table. To create both some space and so I have a food prep area if I ever decide to cook. Or the more likely scenario, for the next time somebody comes over and cooks for me.
  • I got to see Jill’s apartment. It was disgustingly clean. Meaning if I spent now until my birthday party cleaning my house it still wouldn’t be half as clean as Jill’s apartment. But it is a well-known fact that the Gorshes are cleaners. Anybody that ever worked a closing shift at the Boone outpost of the Evil Clown Empire with Derrick can tell you stories about the cleanliness of the grill area when he was done. They can also tell you other stories, but I’m concentrating on how much that guy liked to clean for now. I got to meet her cat. I don’t think it is a major surprise that her can’t didn’t like me, but the theory is that this was just laying the groundwork. The next time I visit, the cat will think I’m swell. It is similar to my theory that the next time Jupiter gets together with Jackson and Bailey they will get along swell because of the groundwork I did on Dog Playdate when I was borrowing Jupiter for Sara’s trip to Florida. I also got to ride in Indy for the first time since I got to drive her several months back. We ate at this sweet restaurant called Jade 88 Chinese Cuisine. We were the only people in the restaurant. Literally. My favorite aspects of this restaurant were that they called crab rangoons – cream cheese powder puffs, they had a chair sitting in the women’s bathroom stall (Jill reported this fact, I did not go into the women’s bathroom) and they had the largest collection of cleaning supplies I’ve ever seen sitting on top of the toilet in the men’s room. That isn’t to say the food wasn’t good, because it was great, but to know me is to know what type of weird things tickle my fancy. After the meal, Jill returned my copy of the 2 Disc Special Edition of A Clockwork Orange that she had borrowed a few weeks back. My Stanley Kubrick boxed set is complete once again! I was also able to loan her The Departed and give her the final piece of Halloween candy. A piece of candy that almost ended up in Willy’s stomach.
  • I had lunch with Jim, Becca and Nate at one of Becca’s favorite restaurants Quang. It is a Vietnamese restaurant that reminds me of one of Sara’s favorite restaurants, A Dong. (Yes, immature people, that is really the name of the restaurant. Stop giggling. I know who you are.) While we waited for a table, Becca and I checked out an Asian grocery store across the street. Now just going to a normal grocery store is kind of an adventure for me. (If you don’t believe me, ask Jay) But going to this grocery store was a special kind of adventure for me. I actually didn’t take my camera out of my backpack on the whole trip. Even though I thought about doing my FRAMING picture for RWPE up there, but in the end I admittedly just kind of phoned that project in. However, at the bottom of this list, you might just find a few low quality images I captured with my phone in this market. The food at Quang lived up to Becca’s hype. We had some kind of fried yam things called Banh Tom Chien. They called crab rangoons cream cheese wontons. Tasty, but not as cute as cream cheese powder puffs.
  • After Quang, I allowed Becca to drive my car (without a small amount of consternation on my part) to give us a tour of Uptown Minneapolis. I really liked Uptown. We got to drive by Gelli’s parents’ restaurant “It’s All Greek to Me…” (a place I will no doubt try in the future) and hear Becca’s sermonizing on how much she doesn’t like hipsters. Nate liked to point out that Becca is a borderline hipster, but she doesn’t see the similarities. Even though she does want to drive a Prius, she is not a hipster she insists. Mostly because she doesn’t ride a bike. But perhaps the most exciting part of the Uptown tour was driving by the Uptown Theater. Although I had missed it, they clearly proclaimed on their marquee that they had a midnight showing of A Clockwork Orange. Jill is going to look into this phenomenon and hopefully a midnight showing of A Clockwork Orange is in our future.
  • After the Uptown tour we stopped at a grocery store so Nate could buy the ingredients for gumbo. On the surface that doesn’t sound particularly exciting, but in fact it is like watching Van Gogh buy paintbrushes or Eric Clapton buy a guitar.
  • Becca made a Coastal Seafood Salad that included shrimp, squid and roughie. It was incredible. Nate made gumbo (no need to point out how phenomenal the gumbo was) and we settled down to watch the Super Bowl. I would have to say that my favorite Super Bowl commercial this year was the monster.com commercial with the beaver playing the violin. Like Jen, I’m partial to beavers. The team I was rooting for also won. That was a surprising bonus. Nate also tried to convince me that Metallica had redeemed themselves with their most recent album. I’ve never been much of a Metallica fan, but at some point I will be giving their new album a listen in order to make my own assessment.
  • I pulled into my driveway at 1:30 in the morning. It had been a successful weekend on many levels.

Here are a few low quality pictures from my phone:


IMAGE LOST
Mmmm… Pork brains. But you can’t prepare that without edible beef blood!

IMAGE LOST
Fresh clams!

IMAGE LOST
Lobster. I wanted a picture of the crabs, but the water in their tank wasn’t clear enough to get a good picture.

IMAGE LOST

Of course I also wanted to share today’s love letter from The Writer’s Almanac:

Franz Kafka wrote stories about human beings transformed into vermin; unsettling legal battles over unspecified crimes; and a father who sentences his son to death by drowning. Kafka is often thought of as neurotic, and rarely as romantic, but he wrote a great many love letters — many of the anguished, helpless variety — to a Berlin woman to whom he was engaged for five years. Their relationship was carried out almost entirely by letters.

In the autumn of 1912, he wrote to Felice Bauer about how much she had become inseparable from his composition process, and also how anticipation of her writing kept him awake at night. He wrote:

“Lately I have found to my amazement how intimately you have now become associated with my writing, although until recently I believe that the only time I did not think about you at all was while I was writing.

In one short paragraph I had written, there were, among others, the following references to you and your letters: someone was give a bar of chocolate. There was talk of small diversions someone had during working hours. Then there was a telephone call. And finally somebody urged someone to go to bed, and threatened to take him straight to his room if he did not obey, which was certainly prompted by the recollection of your mother’s annoyance when you stayed so late at the office. — Such passages are especially dear to me; in them I take hold of you, without your feeling it, and therefore without your having to resist.

… [It takes] every imaginable effort to get to sleep — i.e., to achieve the impossible, for one cannot sleep and at the same time be thinking about one’s work and trying to solve with certainty the one question that certainly is insoluble, namely, whether there will be a letter from you the next day, and at what time. The night consists of two parts: one wakeful, the other sleepless, and if I were to tell you about it at length and you were prepared to listen, I should never finish.

Eleven days later, Kafka wrote to her:
“Fraulein Felice!
I am now going to ask you a favour which sounds quite crazy, and which I should regard as such, were I the one to receive the letter. It is also the very greatest test that even the kindest person could be put to. Well this is it:
Write to me only once a week, so that your letter arrives on Sunday — for I cannot endure your daily letters, I am incapable of enduring them.
For instance, I answer one of your letters, then lie in bed in apparent calm, but my heart beats through my entire body and is conscious only of you.
I belong to you; there is really no other way of expressing it, and that is not strong enough. But for this very reason I don’t want to know what you are wearing; it confuses me so much that I cannot deal with life; and that’s why I don’t want to know that you are fond of me. If I did, how could I, fool that I am, go on sitting in my office, or here at home, instead of leaping onto a train with my eyes shut and opening them only when I am with you?”

And a week after that, he wrote to her:

“Dearest, what have I done that makes you torment me so? No letter again today, neither by the first mail nor the second. You do make me suffer! While one written word from you could make me happy! … If I am to go on living at all, I cannot go on vainly waiting for news of you, as I have done these last few interminable days …

I think the thing I’ve liked about these letters is their common theme of thinking constantly about the woman they love and how that gets in the way of their work.

The 52 Themes

I have been asked by a couple different people if I knew all 52 Themes for RWPE couldn’t I think ahead?

The truth is that I could think ahead, but off the top of my head I couldn’t tell you what maybe 5 of the themes are that haven’t been used yet.

Plus I have to admit that I don’t feel the need to think ahead on RWPE, when I’m already planning very far ahead for my Personal Photo Project of the Week. To put it somewhat bluntly, thinking ahead defeats the purpose of the project. The point of the project is spontaneity and being forced to think creatively when faced with a timeline. But admittedly there is a factor of convenience involved as well.

During the first 3 weeks, the photo that I have ended up taking (all 3 weeks) has been my 3rd or 4th idea. The first ideas just haven’t worked out because of time and sometimes the weather.

However, I do want to afford other people the opportunity to “think ahead”, so below I have listed all 52 Themes:

1 means available 0 means used.

1|~|Active
1|~|Adventure
1|~|Calm
1|~|Colorful
1|~|Communication
1|~|Discover
1|~|Dry
1|~|Explore
1|~|Fast
1|~|Harmony
1|~|Hope
1|~|Love
1|~|Motion
1|~|Peace of Mind
1|~|Silence
0|~|Soothing
1|~|Spiritual
1|~|Strength
1|~|Wet
1|~|Wild
1|~|Restaurants
1|~|Market
1|~|Paths
0|~|Plants
1|~|Painting with Light
1|~|Smoke Photography
1|~|Long Exposure
1|~|Rule of Thirds
1|~|Leading Lines
1|~|Symmetry and Patterns
1|~|Viewpoint
1|~|Depth of Field
1|~|Framing
0|~|Use of Space
1|~|Macro
1|~|Odd Camera Angle
1|~|Unfocused
1|~|Panning & Camera Blur
1|~|Light Placement
1|~|Still Life
1|~|Diagonal Rule
1|~|Self Portrait
1|~|Food
0|~|People
1|~|Silhouettes
1|~|Feet
1|~|Hands
1|~|Eye
1|~|Reflections
1|~|Face
1|~|Shadows
1|~|Signs

Some of these themes are somewhat specific photography techniques that some people might not understand. Don’t worry, when “Depth of Field” or “Painting with Light” or chosen, I will do my best to explain what that means. Of course, there is no reason to have to think inside the box and feel obligated to use that technique literally.

Number 750

This is entry number 750 in this online journal. I’d like to take a little bit of time to archive some data. It is one of my peculiar imbecilities that I love meaningless statistics. Therefore, consider these statistics:

Every journal entry falls into at least one of sixteen categories. This is how many journal entries have fit into each one of these categories:

  1. Photography – 295
  2. Friends – 269
  3. Life – 238
  4. Family – 98
  5. Religion – 63
  6. ISU Football – 41
  7. Jaycees – 40
  8. Movies – 39
  9. Blogging 33
  10. Sports – 25
  11. Work – 25
  12. House – 24
  13. Writing – 23
  14. Comedy – 20
  15. Politics – 17
  16. History – 12

If you measure popularity by how many times a picture is viewed, these are the 10 (or so) most popular pictures in my Artistic Gallery.



#1. Outburst of the Soul (26 Views)


#2. Untitled (23 Views)

Grizzly McAlpine
#3. Grizzly McAlpine (22 Views)

Obama at Mike O'Brien's House
#3. Untitled (22 Views)

Obama at Mike O'Brien's House
#5. Untitled (21 Views)


#5. Jen Smoking (21 Views)


#7. UnHingd Publicity Still (20 Views)

2007 - Living History Farms
#8. 1900 (19 Views)

ACTORS
#8. Untitled – (19 Views)

Boone County Fair Photo Contest - 2008
#10. Campanile Self Portrait – (18 Views)

06-11-08
#10. US30 East of Ogden – (18 Views)

I know these numbers are somewhat controlled by the length of time a picture has been in the Artistic Gallery, but I am pleased by the number of black and white images that are high in popularity.

But it begs the question, what is the most popular subject in the Snapshot Gallery. What do people like to see from the “Daily Grind of My Existence”?


The Big Jesus Road Trip
#1. Jesse and I with the World’s Largest Cheeto – (25 Views)

The Big Jesus Road Trip
#2. Jesse with a Bob’s Dog – LeMars, Iowa (23 Views)

The Big Jesus Road Trip
#3. Jesse and I in backstage of the Surf Ball Room – (21 Views)

Shannon at Backbone State Park
#4. Shannon reading a map on our first road trip to Backbone. (19 Views)

Iowa State vs. Texas A&M
#4. Sumrall catching a pass against A&M. I think this picture is so popular because it was a popular picture to get spammed when I was having spamming problems with the galleries.

The Big Jesus Road Trip
#6. Jesse at the Surf Ball Room – (18 Views)

The Big Jesus Road Trip
#6. Jesse kissing the Blarney Stone – (18 Views)

Eastern Iowa Road Trip - 2006
#8. Jesse and I in Clinton on The Eastern Iowa Road Trip – (17 Views)

Bonne Finken
#8. Jen and Shannon making some kind of deal at Bonne Finken – (17 Views)

Bonne Finken
#8. Cousin Amy, Sara and Jen at Bonne Finken – (17 Views)

Eastern Iowa Road Trip - 2006
#8. Jesse and Jay on The Eastern Iowa Road Trip – (17 Views)

Eastern Iowa Road Trip - 2006
#8. Robert enjoying the view of the Mississippi River in Balltown – (17 Friends)

The Big Jesus Road Trip
#8. Jesse videotaping Big Jesus – (17 Views)

The Big Jesus Road Trip
#8. Jesse and I at the Sgt. Floyd Memorial – (17 Views)

I think what I have learned from this exercise is that people like to see Jesse and I having adventures. I think I’ll have to look into us having a few more adventures in 2010!

I will have to check back in on this when I hit journal entry number 1,000.

Proust Questionnaire Number Sixteen

Proust Quote:
“What a profound significance small things assume when the woman we love conceals them from us.”

We have come to the end of the days where I will answer any more Proust questions. I hope some people got something out of this little exercise. I will give special thanks to Angie, as she is the only person that either read these little essays or is the only person to have the testicular fortitude to also share her answers. I fear the lack of participation has dashed my hopes of playing this little parlor game at a tea party this Spring.

Since this is the last day, rather than throwing a bunch of words at one question I will answer all the remaining questions with just one or two words.

Your favorite virtue or The principal aspect of my personality:
Valor (of the Seven Holy Virtues)
Temperance (of the Eight Heavenly Virtues)
Prudence (of the Four Cardinal Virtues)
Love (of the Three Theological Virtues)

Your chief characteristic:
Veracity

If not yourself, who would you be? or What I should like to be:
Sorted out

My favorite bird:
Crow

Your favorite prose authors or My favorite prose authors:
Salinger

Your favorite heroines in fiction or My favorite heroines in fiction:
Autumn

My favorite composers:
Beethoven

My favorite painters:
Henning

Your heroes in real life or My heroes in real life:
Mom

What characters in history do you most dislike:
Lieberman

Your heroines in World history or My heroines in history:
Hepburn

Your favorite food and drink:
sauerkraut casserole & Pepsi

The military event I admire the most:
30,000

The reform I admire the most:
Health Care

How I wish to die or How I want to die:
Fearless

What is your present state of mind or My present state of mind:
Dull

For what fault have you most toleration? or Faults for which I have the most indulgence:
Inclinations

Before I click “Publish Post” and wish you a safe and Happy New Year, I would like to conclude this little exercise with some of my favorite Proust quotes that didn’t make it into any of the previous entries:

“A woman one loves rarely suffices for all our needs, so we deceive her with another whom we do not love.”

“As long as men are free to ask what they must, free to say what they think, free to think what they will, freedom can never be lost and science can never regress.”

“Every reader finds himself. The writer’s work is merely a kind of optical instrument that makes it possible for the reader to discern what, without his book, he would perhaps never have seen in himself.”

“Habit is a second nature which prevents us from knowing the first, of which it has neither the cruelties nor the enchantments.”

“Happiness is beneficial for the body, but it is grief that develops the powers of the mind.”

“In a separation it is the one who is not really in love who says the more tender things.”

“It is in moments of illness that we are compelled to recognize that we live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom, whole worlds apart, who has no knowledge of us and by whom it is impossible to make ourselves understood: our body.”

“Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”

“Lies are essential to humanity. They are perhaps as important as the pursuit of pleasure and moreover are dictated by that pursuit.”

“Like everybody who is not in love, he thought one chose the person to be loved after endless deliberations and on the basis of particular qualities or advantages.”

“Love is space and time measured by the heart.”

“No exile at the South Pole or on the summit of Mont Blanc separates us more effectively from others than the practice of a hidden vice.”

“The charms of the passing woman are generally in direct proportion to the swiftness of her passing.”

“The only real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes.”

“The time at our disposal each day is elastic; the passions we feel dilate it, those that inspire us shrink it, and habit fills it.”

“There is no man, however wise, who has not at some period of his youth said things, or lived in a way the consciousness of which is so unpleasant to him in later life that he would gladly, if he could, expunge it from his memory.”

“Those whose suffering is due to love are, as we say of certain invalids, their own physicians.”

“Three-quarters of the sickness of intelligent people come from their intelligence.”

“Time passes, and little by little everything we have spoken in falsehood becomes true.”

“Time, which changes people, does not alter the image we have retained of them.”

“We are healed from suffering only by experiencing it to the full.”

“We don’t receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey that no one can take for us or spare us.”

“We must never be afraid to go too far, for truth lies beyond.”

I have just begun to read Swann’s Way. (It was a Christmas present along with Within a Budding Grove and The Guermantes Way!) If I can make it through this entire series, I might be ready to try to tackle Ulysses.

Now that this exercise has concluded, I will begin posting pictures from my latest photo projects very soon.

Proust Questionnaire Number Fifteen

Proust Quote:
“Everything great in the world comes from neurotics. They alone have founded our religions and composed our masterpieces.”

Confessions Question:
What I hate the most.

Confidences Question:
What I hate most of all.

Proust’s Answer:
What is bad about me.

I’m clearly too arrogant to hate what is bad about me and I try not to dwell much on the concept of hate. In fact, I think I can state with a clear conscience that I don’t actually hate anybody.

There are concepts or things that I hate. I hate the Boone Speedway. I hate golf. I hate the fact that Pufferbilly Days is held at the fairgrounds. I hate the Nebraska Cornhuskers, Notre Dame and Duke. I hate the Yankees and Cubs.

Above all things though, I hate ignorance. Perhaps that is a way of hating what is bad about me, but not in a straight line sort of way.

I hate what ignorance brings. Ignorance brings ideologues. I hate ideologues. Ignorance brings prejudice. I hate prejudice. Ignorance brings anti-intellectualism. I hate anti-intellectualism.

However, the way that ignorance effects my every day life (besides having to read news stories about death panels. With apologies to Se7en, “I’ve been trying to figure something in my head, and maybe you can help me out, yeah? When a person is as dumb as Sarah Palin clearly is, do they know that they are dumb? Maybe they are just sitting around, reading “Guns and Ammo”, trying to put a verb next to a noun in a futile attempt to actually complete an intelligible thought, do they just stop and go, ‘Wow! It is amazing how frigging dumb I really am!'”) is my ignorance when it comes to subjects that can be used for making small talk.

I am terrible when it comes to small talk, but I don’t want to put in the time it would take to keep me abreast of the subject that is invariably the focus of small talk – television.

Contrary to my reputation I am not an elitist. I do own a television. It is frequently on. I can’t deny that it is to some degree little more than a monitor for my Blu-ray player, but I do frequently watch sports, news, documentaries, The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. In the future I will be giving the show Dexter a shot, but other than that I am completely and utterly ignorant of most television programs.

When I am in a group of people that I don’t know well (okay this even frequently happens with people that I know well) I am frequently reduced to little more than a background observer while the others happily chat about the latest episode of Big Brother or about the winner of American Idol or the latest crime solved on Law & Order: NCIS – Miami.

I do not mean to sound greedy. I do not need to be the center of the attention constantly. I can be a background observer occasionally dropping a mind-blowing dimebag of insight on the conversation, but when I get involved in these conversations I cannot really pay attention. I am often forced to drift off to Willy-land. There are chocolate waterfalls and gumdrop forests in Willy-land. That is where I remain until there is a word that draws my interest and breaks through the boredom induced haze.

What I truly wish is that there was a website for people like me that are small talk handicapped. A website where I would go before parties and other social engagements and learn just enough to fake my way through the night. The website could feed me just enough information so that when I was thrust into one of these conversations I could laugh knowingly and when the moment was right I could interject something like:

“Oh yeah. That Adam Lambert is super talented.”

or

“Sgt. So and So really nailed him on that episode.”

or

“I totally saw that. David Hasselhoff is such a card!”

Then I could retreat back to the anonymity of the background. New money of course, but part of the club.

Proust Questionnaire Number Fourteen

Proust Quote:
“The bonds that unite another person to our self exist only in our mind.”

Confessions Question:
Your idea of misery.

Confidences Question:
What would be my greatest misfortune?

Proust’s Answer:
Not to have known my mother or grandmother.

I once stated that the greatest misery is waiting for something to happen and the greatest happiness is when that thing happens. Therefore I think the best way to answer this question is to think of what didn’t cause me the greatest depth of misery this year, but what caused me the longest length of misery.

Or what was my greatest mistake in 2009?

To answer this question with one hundred percent honesty my greatest mistake is the same as it has been probably every year of my life. My inability to see and act on what is plainly in front of me. This year that inability lead to a huge mistake, but that mistake is one that I feel that I have been able to correct, more or less.

The mistake that caused me the longest stretch of misery was actually a mistake I made in 2008. I wasn’t sure how much detail I would go into on this mistake. It is dependent on how deep into the well of bitterness I wanted to go.

However, of all the people I know that should actually loathe the organization that I could easily eviscerate with but a drop of that bitterness, is worried about what I will write. She doesn’t want people to think poorly of this organization that she still loves.

Therefore, I will dial the bile back and just keep this simple and short. I will not go into detail about broken federal tax laws, lies, cover-ups, recriminations and witch trials. I will skate around the edges.

The greatest mistake I made in 2009 was joining the board of a community organization.

This organization exists (at least it is my understanding) to help people gain leadership skills. In essence, it is supposed to be a self improvement organization that does this through community service projects.

Self-improvement did not appeal to me. I belong to the Tyler Durden school of thought on self improvement.

I’m not in the need of enhancing my leadership skills. Running small projects isn’t that interesting when you’ve run a million dollar business. Writing a CPG is somewhat of a joke after you’ve written actual business plans.

However, I was interested in community service. In fact, I would even say that I was happy in the organization until I joined the Board. In the 3 months I spent on the Board, I witnessed backstabbing, political maneuvering and the most ridiculous turf war I have ever witnessed in my life.

In short, it amazed me what I learned that one human being is willing to do to another human being to protect their small piece of the absolute insignificant part of a power structure for an organization that has 50 members and a budget well under $50,00.

Not that this organization isn’t significant, but to quote George Bailey, “In the whole vast configuration of things, I’d say (it) is nothing but a scurvy little spider.”

In essence there is nothing in this organization that is anywhere near important enough to treat people the way that I witnessed people being treated.

After 3 months on the Board I quit. I can’t stand quitting. It is something that runs contrary to the fiber of my being. But sometimes, you have to cut your losses and that is what I did. The Board had broken into 2 factions and the side that I was sitting on had all quit. All of my “allies” were much more passionate about the organization than I was ever going to be and if they weren’t really willing to fight for it, then somebody of my nominal interest surely wasn’t going to stick around.

But I did stick around the organization for the rest of the year to fulfill some of my obligations. In this time I have come to realize that there isn’t really much community service being done by the organization. At least not in the way that I see it. There is a lot of begging other people for money so that they can turn around and give that money to another organization that actually helps people. I don’t like begging people for money. Raise money in an honest way and then give the money to the people that actually help other people.

Although my faith in humanity was slightly shaken (I still really can’t believe that people would act so heinously to protect something that is so insignificant.) I have decided to make my community service contributions to the world through my church. I will be the Vice President of the Methodist Men for 2010. I have been promised this job has no responsibilities whatsoever.

I figure that if I concentrate my activities on a Christ-centered organization there will be more concentration on actually helping people and less effort to worry about anybody’s 3 inches of turf.

That is not to say that I consider my entire time in the organization a waste. Even though I am saddened to think about how much time I wasted on fruitless endeavors in 2009 (I’ve taken steps to correct that in 2010) I definitely met some incredible and wonderful people through the organization. I hope to continue some of those relationships from outside the organization.