Two Hours Well Spent

If enjoy quiet films with little flourish, set aside two hours and watch The Outrun (2024). I included the Wikipedia link below to eliminate the need for me to outline too many particulars and also help you to decide if you want to invest the time. However, the plot summary therein does have a spoiler so don't read it to its end. 

I suspect the main reason this film landed with me as it did is because of how many people I've known who've done battle with alcohol and/or drugs. The struggles, rationalizing, destructive behavior, and backsliding of the main character in The Outrun - played by Saoirse Ronan - were painfully familiar to me. Have you ever known a single person who doesn't have a story of someone from their life - family member, friend, work colleague, neighbor, etc. - who has fought this fight? Everyone I've ever known has at least one story - sometimes their own - like this.

Another reason I'm comfortable recommending this sleeper without reservation is also connected to my life's experience with alcoholism and drug abuse. Numerous times, I've witnessed people close to me who have turned their lives around with the help of Alcoholics Anonymous and similar twelve-step programs. AA may not be for everyone. But any film that points people toward a solution that I've seen work many times is, to me, a film worth endorsing. Added bonuses: Exceptional acting, nearly flawless script, and unobtrusive direction. And a trip to a remote and enchanting corner of the world.  

If you end up watching The Outrun, please remember to either return here with a comment or write me an e-mail to tell me your thoughts. I'd like to extend the glow of this movie for as long as I can. 

The Outrun (film) - Wikipedia

The Last Reflection from Patstan

Abandoning ship, closing shop, skipping town. 

Farewell concert, final song, no encore.

Out of gas, out of steam, over and out.   

Throwing in the towel, raising the white flag, that's all folks. 

April Fool's!

(I was tempted to prolong this, e.g., Elvis has left the building, etc. I even considered torturing you with that annoying closing song from The Sound of Music. You owe me one.)

Today's Tao

"We teach best what we need to learn most."

What happened most recently to you that confirmed teaching is the best way to learn?

In my course called Jamming for Advanced Beginners, a message I try to convey to guitar students early on is to avoid thinking of any improvised note as "right" or "wrong". Better - I coach them - to consider the notes they intended to play vs. those they didn't intend to play. I strongly believe any student who fully internalizes this critical lesson will be a more relaxed improviser from the start. In addition, having this kind of attitude about one's own improvising is a surefire way to ensure that person will be far less likely to harshly judge what other people play in their early attempts at improvising.

If I could borrow that HG Wells contraption, I know what point in time in my life as a musician I'd return to. I'd go back to my start as an improviser and hear my own words endlessly repeated back to me: "There are no wrong notes, Pat, only notes you didn't intend to play."  Perhaps those words would have given me enough confidence to ignore anyone who cringed at something I tried. 

But time machine fantasy aside, what I've seen - as a teacher - is that each time I repeat this message, an unsurprising thing happens; my own improvising gets a little more relaxed and natural. And that's when Buddha's words are confirmed for me, yet again. 

 

Assembling the Quilt

Take a moment and join me in a fantasy. Imagine you'd spent your professional life as an historian. What era or subject captivates you enough that - in this fantasy - you want to be an expert, able to easily answer nearly any question about that era or subject? 

As disturbing as the subject can sometimes be, these days I frequently yearn to be an expert in the history of the native people who first inhabited this place we call the United States of America. Though the subject was always of interest, my fantasy took a firm hold in 2011, soon after I finished James Loewen's mind blowing book Lies My Teacher Told Me (1995). Since then, the novels of Native American authors like Louise Erdrich & Tommy Orange - among others - and historical powerhouses like The Trail of Tears (Gail Jahoda, 1975) and Killers of the Flower Moon (David Grann, 2017) have helped turn my fascination with this complicated slice of history into something bordering on an obsession.

The many disparate pieces I've picked up over my fourteen-year journey are satisfying. But, at times, those pieces each feel like an individual swatch of fabric. The expert I fantasize about being would be able to assemble them all into a quilt. All that's needed is a second lifetime. Anybody able to help me with that? 

Reflections From The Bell Curve: Still Closing the Gap

Reflections From The Bell Curve: John Brown Day

Grounding Myself, Accidentally

"The graveyard is full of indispensable people."

It's possible you're someone who has never taken themselves too seriously. I make no such claim. So let me ask those of you who have - at least a few times - shared my unfortunate tendency. Who helps you remain grounded? If you don't rely on a trusted person to ground you regularly, what do you rely on instead? Who are the people in your life that remind you by example to stay grounded? 

I cannot recall what prompted me to jot down the italicized words above nor did I cite its source in my blog notebook at the time. But a few weeks back I caught myself briefly musing on my importance as I sat down to begin writing a post. What set me off on that fantasy? No idea. Anyone reading and foolish enough to admit to having done so, do you recall what most recently propelled you onto a similar delusional path? 

I do recall from that day weeks back what happened before I started writing. I opened my notebook, noticed those grounding words above and got abruptly yanked back to reality. Timing is everything.

 

p.s. Tried tracking down those words using Wikiquotes; no luck. My best guess? This is something lifted from a novel I was reading at the time. If I'm right, there's another good reason to continue reading fiction, not that I needed any rationale for doing so. 

Your Gold Standard

In my experience, most people who read widely have at least a few "go to" authors. To a lesser extent, I've noticed a similar tendency among serious music lovers and dedicated cinephiles. Music geeks and movie buffs alike rely on certain performers or directors to consistently deliver the goods just as readers do with authors. Today I'm hoping to extract unknown treasures from any of you who share my passion for either literature, music, or film, all of which have enriched my life immeasurably.   

Readers first: Which one book by a "go to" author will be difficult for that same author to top in your mind? You will continue reading this author but - in your mind - this book has become a kind of gold standard. I'm not looking for a "best of" by that author or even your "favorite", necessarily. Try to avoid using those labels as you consider this question carefully. Instead, I'd like to know which one book by that author excited you enough that returning to their work repeatedly was never in doubt. Before moving on to #2 and #3, please note: All of us are destined to be disappointed from time-to-time, gold standard aside. I mean, the Beatles released Why Don't We Do It in the Road. On the other hand, I've been upended more than once by an artist topping something I thought of as unsurpassable. Haven't you?  

Music lovers: Same question, replacing "book" with "recording/album". For information purposes, please also note the name of the musician or band or performer. 

Cinephiles: Replace "book" with "film". Again, be sure to identify the director's name. Source material would be a nice bonus, if relevant. Would be cool to get a good book out of this third entry. 

I'm standing by. Others may also be on the lookout for hidden treasure; share the wealth, please.  

Yesterday

Although the premise for this post came to me as I reflected on a good day - yesterday - some folks might find it unsettling to speculate on their mortality. If that's the case for you, stop reading now. No chance of me getting offended; I have no way of knowing.   

If you knew for sure when you got into bed last night that yesterday was going to be your last day, how would you feel about the way you'd spent it? Imagine what might happen if each of us spent even one day of every month living as though it was going to be our last. Isn't it possible the world could be improved, however marginally?  

I'm not claiming what I did yesterday improved or altered the world in any fashion. But the fact that I did no harm, combined with the positive energy I felt while delivering a music class, spurred me to consider how that energy could easily be directed toward larger aims if I were purposeful about it. All that need happen is for me to occasionally keep that question above front and center. If I did, isn't it possible that over time some modest action of mine might make a tiny difference? More important, how could keeping that question on my radar all the time be anything but beneficial for me and the world? 

These thoughts made for a peaceful night's sleep. For that alone, I'm grateful. 

A Honduran Bookonnection

Ever think the word coincidence is inadequate to describe something that's happened to you? My most recent bookonnection is wild enough that I would be skeptical were someone to tell me this story. 

I first read Paul Theroux's 1982 bestseller Mosquito Coast soon after it was published. Mid-winter of 2024, I was discussing that novel and a later travel book of Theroux's called The Last Train to Zona Verde with a new hiking friend. Zona Verde (2013) was itself kind of a "prep" book for my impending trip to Africa. On the spot, to entice this new friend to join and also because I wanted an excuse to re-read it, I decided to put Mosquito Coast into the queue for my book club. However, because I plan far in advance what my club will be reading, Theroux's early novel was slotted for the meeting in March of this year. 

Many conversations with my fellow travelers while on that trip to Africa centered on books. By the time the trip was over, I had about twenty titles to explore, including The Lost City of the Monkey God (2017) by Douglas Preston, an author and book totally unfamiliar to me. Over parts of 2024 and early 2025, I worked my way through some of those titles but not Monkey God.

Fast forward to February 2025 when my club didn't meet due to inclement weather. Late in the month, I met 1x1 with one of the charter members to discuss our "missed" book. By then, I had already completed my re-read of Mosquito Coast and also re-watched the 1986 film adaptation. At that 1x1 meeting - as is our habit - this reading soulmate and I spoke of other stuff we'd recently enjoyed. Among others, she recommended The Lost City of the Monkey God. Now that I considered a coincidence - or the universe speaking to me - and decided right then to make Monkey God my next non-fiction read. I still had no idea what it was about or where it took place. 

On March 10, the day before my club was scheduled to discuss Mosquito Coast, I opened The Lost City of the Monkey God for the first time and stopped after reading the first sentence: "Deep in Honduras, in a region called La Mosquitia, lie some of the last unexplored places on earth." I took a quick look at the map on the inside cover of Monkey God. Yeah, those river names looked familiar, as did a place called "Brewer's Lagoon". To ensure I was recollecting correctly, I grabbed notes I'd taken for Mosquito Coast to help me guide the discussion for my club. When I confirmed the two books were set in the exact same location in Honduras, I was so astonished I stopped reading and exclaimed to my wife - "You're not going to believe this!" I submit the word coincidence is not up to the job for this situation. When my club met to discuss Mosquito Coast the next day, I opened the discussion by describing my uncanny experience, reading aloud the first sentence of Monkey God. I'm still getting my head around the conclusion of this thirteen-month-long Honduran bookonnection. 

p.s. The Lost City of the Monkey God is the best non-fiction book I've read so far in 2025.