Still Here, Sort Of

Avoid labeling this thought experiment as morbid. Treat it instead in the spirit in which it is intended.

When you are gone, what signs would you like to send back to those who loved you to remind them you're watching their lives unfold? Put aside for a moment whether you believe in a spirit or an energy that transcends our physical beings and answer this: What tone would your spirit or energy take? For example, would you want loved ones to know you're watching by playing pranks on them, say, hiding their keys in a place they wouldn't think to look, like, next to a picture of you? 

Or, would you want your spirit or energy to manifest somehow via signs you send through the natural world, e.g., the orb of a full moon accompanied by a birdsong that you taught loved ones to recognize? Or, maybe your spirit or energy could hide itself in plain sight via an art form - music, literature, film? Even the most casual reader of my blog might guess this is my idea of an optimum way to let loved ones know I'm still here, sort of. Of course, this is assuming the choice is up to me. If not, I'd be happy being the prankster or signaling my presence via the natural world. Now that I've given you a few ideas, please tell me some of yours. 

Anyway, although I'm planning on being around as long as possible, it doesn't hurt to give this some thought. And in the meanwhile, if I drop enough hints to loved ones while I'm still around, regardless of the tone my spirit or energy ends up taking, they could start seeing me everywhere. Good deal.  

PSA for Serious Readers

As I was introducing folks to each other at the most recent meeting of the book club I established in 2017, something dawned on me. Of the nine people aside from myself who came to discuss Rocket Boys that night, five of them were folks I'd previously met in three different book clubs. It would be hard to over-state how much my life has been enriched by the people I've met since joining my first club in 2010. 

Even clubs I belonged to briefly between 2010-2017 yielded benefits that outweighed their demerits. And though I didn't realize it over those years, what I was continually doing during my tenure in each of those clubs - winners and duds - was gathering best practices. That clearly ended up helping me shape my own club into something special. Four of the six charter members of my club are folks I met in three earlier clubs I'd belonged to, including the moderator of the first club I joined in 2010 and remained active in for over two years. The other two charter members of my club are my wife and me. Sweet.

Before entering the post full-time work world in early 2010 , I made a list (surprise!) of some new things I wanted to try. From that list, joining my first book club is the thing that's proven to have had the most far reaching impact. I would strongly encourage any serious reader give consideration to getting involved in a book club or clubs. Keep searching until you find one - or more - that meets your needs. If you persist, you'll be rewarded by finding people who you'll want to keep in your life.   

      

The Road to Comfort

What word would you use to describe your current financial situation? Forced to guess, I'd say many of the people I know - including most of my family - would say comfortable. But even if my guess is way off the mark, I'm confident saying this: The stories people tell about how they've attained a state of financial comfort frequently include some predictable variables. Which of those variables come first when you tell your story?

Hard work? Who have you ever known who thinks their hard work had little or nothing to do with what they've attained? Smart choices? How many comfortable people have you met who will willingly own up to dumb choices - financial or otherwise - that set them back? So, how much of your story centers on your hard work and your smart choices? Whenever I'm telling my story reflexively vs. mindfully, those are definitely my go-to riffs. 

How about luck and its close relative good timing? How much air time do those two get in your story? And what about privilege? Ever run across someone who was born on third base and thought they hit a triple? I have. Though I wasn't born on third base, my privilege has clearly played a part delivering me to my current level of financial comfort. Luck and good timing have also helped me. To deny any of those three have had a role is to tell only part of the story.

Here's a challenge: Listen carefully when you next hear someone speak of their road to comfort. Pay close attention to the story they tell. Then come back and tell me what has become clearer for you. 

Library Drive-By

Only those who have worked a long time on their own writing can fully appreciate how difficult it is to finish something as seemingly breezy as Silver Alert. Lee Smith's 2022 novel is charming, funny, and easy to zip through. But like many talented writers who make it look easy, Smith has more on her mind than entertaining you, if you're paying attention. 

First and foremost, Smith's prose is unfussy, ensuring a reader stays squarely focused on the plot vs. the writing itself. "They did not even say goodbye. What I think is, they may be real smart, but they are not real nice."

Next - as the passage above amply demonstrates - Smith is deeply wise. Using just two simple words longer than one syllable, DeeDee - the young, uneducated, but emotionally intelligent protagonist - delivers a universal truth about people. In this case, DeeDee is speaking of the daughter and pompous son-in-law of the other main character, eighty-three-year old Herb. Unlike his daughter and "ass-wipe" son-in-law, Herb sees DeeDee as a full human being, regardless of her reduced circumstances.

Finally, as she did masterfully in perhaps her most well known book - Oral History (1983) - Smith toggles back and forth in time seamlessly. And as she does so, it's easy for a reader flipping pages to miss tiny hints that Smith casually and skillfully drops, each revealing telling details about her characters. "...this is just a short visit, a little retreat to clear my head, you might say." I missed that nugget when I raced through Smith's unassuming treasure. But while composing my book journal entry about Silver Alert, I recognized how much this tossed off remark revealed about the privileged mentality of Willie (William Randolph Farnsworth III). Willie is another player in DeeDee's young life who unthinkingly treats her as disposable.  

As has happened frequently in the past, Silver Alert was selected in a pure library drive-by; all I knew was Smith's name. I'd read no reviews, heard no buzz, purposefully avoided reading the book jacket and the gushing blurbs on the back cover, i.e., I started the reading experience a blank slate.  I finished knowing I'd just spent precious hours in the capable hands of someone who has worked long and hard at her craft. What was the most recent instance when you came in 100% cold and the book you selected subsequently knocked you out? What a blast.

https://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/2020/06/an-old-sharp-saw.html

       

Act Three Day

https://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/2022/09/tbc-celebrating-third-act.html

I asked you to remind me. But no matter that you did not. Following a tradition established on this date in 2012, I hereby decree from this day forward August 1 be celebrated as Act Three Day. And even if Hallmark does not climb on board, post offices and libraries remain open, and many otherwise ignore my newest brilliant idea for a holiday in this barren month, I steadfastly maintain those of us in act three - especially the ones who get no attention on grandparents day - deserve to be feted one day a year. Got ideas for ways to get this party started? I do.

* We pay just 50% of admission price for concerts, movies, plays, or sporting events on this day. And no charge for refreshments.  

* We automatically go to the front of any queue. Proof of age offered on request but tread carefully you whippersnappers. 

* A one day moratorium is declared on all patronizing age-related remarks, e.g., "You're in such good shape for a 70 year-old", etc. While we're at it, how about just for August 1 we set aside some tired adjectives frequently used to describe people in act three, e.g., spry. 

Other ideas? Come on, help me out here. This is attempt #12 at bringing August into line with all the other months, each of which has at least one major holiday.   

Over the Jersey State Line

How can it be twelve years have elapsed without my blog offering assistance to readers interested in fortifying their New Jersey bona fides? To help rectify this oversight, treat the guidelines below - re attitude, directions, food, and music - as counsel from someone who has lived here for all but four months of his seventy-three years. Without these bona fides - be you resident, occasional visitor, or someone considering moving here - you could get caught short. 

Attitude: Learn immediately and embrace completely the ethos of going all Jersey on someone when necessary. This applies to situations where someone acts rude or disrespectfully toward you. It can be especially helpful in customer service interactions, when in a queue, or in visits to Motor Vehicles. 

Directions: Understand no self-respecting Jerseyan identifies themselves via their exit on the Garden State Parkway. It's acceptable to use those exits when asking for or giving directions but never identify a person by using their exit number. Pat does not live at Exit 98; he lives in Brielle, which happens to be near Exit 98. Violating this guideline could earn you a visit from Silvio, Tony, or Paulie. If that trio is unfamiliar to you, remedial work is required.       

Food: Although bagels are a major food group in New Jersey, be careful about recommending a bagel shop to any lifelong resident, like say, me.  Also remember Taylor ham is alternatively called pork roll and is the preferred meat to put on a bagel, provided the bagel originated in a properly vetted shop. 

Music: Remember: The Boss did not compose Jersey Girl; Tom Waits did. If you need to ask who the Boss is, you've already wasted your time reading this far. In addition - with no disrespect to the Boss - he is only one of many great musicians New Jersey has produced. Start with Count Basie and learn several other names. Fortify those bona fides. 

Your turn. If you are a longtime resident of my beloved home state, please offer to my readers one or more of your guidelines. Be as cheeky as you like. Longtime residents of one of the other forty-nine: If you feel inclined, please weigh in with some guidelines for your state to help me and others. Finally, any reader who loved Zach Braff's valentine called Garden State (2004) contact me here or offline. I want to talk with you about that film and all the things that make New Jersey special, bona fides aside. 

Brain Food

"Some things are up to us and some things are not up to us." - Epictetus

Long before the serenity prayer gained widespread notoriety when Alcoholics Anonymous adopted it as a motto, Epictetus reminded us that we have control over just one thing: how we react to what happens to us. What continually astounds me is how difficult it is for me to access this timeless wisdom in moments of stress. How about you?

"Getting our history wrong is part of being a nation." - Ernest Renan

If you could erase just one foundational American myth from the way our history has been taught to us, which one would you pick? Now replace the word nation in Renan's formulation with the word person. Which pieces of your history have you repeatedly gotten wrong? That one is painfully easy for me. When recalling earlier versions of Pat, something or someone other than me is often at fault when I speak of unattained dreams. 

"Don't stick labels on me. I am not a steamer trunk." -  Elizabeth Finch

Those words - spoken by the eponymous character in Julian Barnes's 2022 novella - caught me short. I suspect I'm not alone in reflexively labeling people - conservative vs. liberal; quiet vs. outgoing; old vs. young, etc. In that moment of reading, I re-committed to an earlier resolve, i.e., paying more attention to my labeling habit. Using labels not only limits me as a thinker; those same labels confine anyone I'm describing. Elizabeth Finch is more than a book. Using Epictetus to elevate, Ernest Renan to provoke, and a memorable protagonist to prompt deep reflection about how language shapes our worldview, Barnes challenges readers to carefully chew on his ideas. Brain food.    

Note to New Jersey Weather Whiners

I'm not above whining on occasion. But I admit to having little patience for people who whine about the weather. Anyone share this pet peeve of mine? 

I get especially annoyed with New Jersey weather whiners. In my view, people who can easily find fault with New Jersey's weather are likely to be chronic complainers. What exactly are they griping about? The occasional oppressively hot summer spells? How long do any of those typically last? How much time have those kvetchers spent in Florida? Phoenix or El Paso, anyone? 

Yeah, we sometimes get the tail-end of hurricanes - and yes, Sandy was a bummer - but again, how about a little perspective here?  Those tail-ends are almost always milder than being caught in the middle of it, like say, in South Carolina. Crippling snowstorms have been known to land here but compared to Buffalo or northern Minnesota? Come on complainers, get a grip.

Tornadoes? Less than rare. Mudslides or wildfires? None that I can recall over my seventy-three + years. Earthquakes? All those routine weather events that occur in other parts of the U.S., New Jersey escapes largely unscathed. And, consider a couple of final things, grumblers: Monsoons? Tsunamis? Do me a favor, will you? Enjoy our enchanting change of seasons, deal with the occasional bump, give the whining a rest.