From a Committed Incoming Senior, Blogosphere U

In September of 1970, I began my 16th continuous year of formal schooling when I started my senior year as an undergraduate. Tomorrow begins my 16th continuous year of blogging. What has this incoming senior at Blogosphere U learned over fifteen years?

* Write it down immediately. What I write in my blog notebook frequently comes to nothing. But many tiny fragments often facilitate the assembly of something. And when I don't write it down immediately - whatever "it" is - I usually have more trouble retrieving it when it's needed.

* Be ready to accept help from anyone. I was almost finished with Blogosphere Grammar School before fully internalizing this lesson. Since wising up, I've made use of many sharp insights, several grammar tips, and a few potent challenges. It has all helped me as a thinker and writer. The feedback has come from faithful readers, frequent commenters, occasional lurkers, anonymous critics. Thanks to all. 

* Manage expectations via the lament of notable writers. Accepting my continued toils in obscurity has been made easier by learning of writers I admire who ponder their legacy. If folks like these - whose work is widely known - have these wonderings at least I'm in good company when feeling sorry for myself. 

Committed to blogging? Since I've now been at it for almost 20% of my life, that's safe to say. I am aware, however, that the verb committed has multiple meanings. Oh well. What practice are you committed to? How long has your commitment endured? What has that commitment taught you?

Help with a Reprise

The most gratifying thing about being asked to reprise one of the music courses I first began doing in 2014 is just that - being asked. It's additionally satisfying because each time I reprise one, my delivery of the content gets tighter. And from a mercenary viewpoint, each reprise brings me a bit closer to minimum wage, given the inordinate amount of time I devote when developing these courses.

It's been several years since I last had the opportunity to reprise Jazz 101 (and a Bit Beyond), one of my earliest creations and a class of which I'm particularly proud. It's such a gas watching participants get ignited when I introduce them to a new artist or a fresh interpretation of a song. Consequently, I'm really pleased I'll be reprising this specific course late this year because my tweaks to this one will reflect some recent discoveries I've made.

Reflections from the Bell Curve: Passing the Torch

After listening to the YouTube clip of Samara Joy imbedded in the post above, I have a favor to ask. If you've run across a newcomer to the jazz scene - i.e., a singer or instrumentalist who has broken through within the last five years - and you think that artist is in Joy's league and could've escaped my attention, please share that name with me, either in a comment here or offline. My search for jewels like Joy is never-ending. 

Thanks in advance.

Book Healing

Near the top of any list of highlights from my post full-time work life has to be the many book discussions I've had with others, both in clubs and in ad-hoc meetings with several reading soulmates. It would be difficult to overstate how much these discussions have enriched and energized me. Since joining my first book club less than two months into Act Three, barely a month has gone by over the ensuing sixteen years without a discussion or two awaiting me on my schedule. 

In addition to the enrichment and energy these discussions often provide, the fellowship can be equally satisfying. Relationships with people I initially meet via book discussions sometimes deepen. Just as frequently, when meeting a reader in a different setting, I encourage them to join my book group, which in turn sometimes strengthens those ties. It's a virtuous cycle, all connected by books. 

On occasion, a book discussion comes along just when I most need it. Like today. Leaving my club's discussion of Destiny of the Republic earlier this evening, I realized how healing it is during this difficult period of my life to simply be with others who love books. To all my fellow bookworms: Thank you!

Reflections from the Bell Curve: What If?

First Impression 6.0

I'm confident asserting that the fundamental aspects of my personality - especially my temperament - haven't shifted much over my lifetime. How about you? Putting aside behavioral changes you've made to help you better navigate the world, would you say you've remained much the same person over your lifetime? Or would you claim you're fundamentally different? In what way? 

Still, assuming I am - as I believe - much the same now as I've always been, I'm just as confident saying that the first impression I make on others has shifted radically over my seventy-six years. And in my case, that's been a good thing. How about this element of your make-up? Has the first impression you make on others changed a great deal over your lifetime? If your answer is no, I'm guessing you either don't care about the first impression you make on others or, you've been largely satisfied with how things have gone for you in that respect and have stayed the course. 

But if like me you've decided - perhaps more than once - to change course in this respect, I'm curious to know what prompted your shift. Was it feedback someone close to you was good enough to offer? Was it adverse reactions from new people you met that persuaded you? Was it something you read or a conversation with others about this important skill? Was it watching others who struck you as being particularly inept - as I've often been - at making a good first impression?

Based on recent experiences, I'm considering iteration 6.0, first impression-wise, an average of a new one for each decade of my adult life. My latest tweak is not - as have been most of the changes that drove me to discard earlier iterations - being driven by an embarrassing incident or pleas from people close to me. I guess that's at least good news, right?   

You're in Good Hands, Numerologists

Numerology has never been of even passing interest to me. That said, some random unconnected stuff from my life that culminated during the writing of this post will keep me alert for at least the next thirty-three minutes.  

In order:

1.) After publishing A Shoutout on Myrrh's Day on 2/26, I was reasonably sure what the likely subject of my next blog post would be i.e., the fact that each of the last three novels I'd read prominently featured twins. This struck me as blog-worthy for two reasons: a.) All the books are worth reading so I'd planned to combine three recommendations into one post, soon. b.) Each book came at me from a different direction. The three have nothing in common, except for those twins. Considering the number of possible book subjects vs. the ratio of single to multiple births worldwide, just that coincidence is a little weird, no? 

2.) Life interfered. My next post - on Saturday 2/28 - ended up marking time. And I still wasn't ready to write about much of anything else as today began.  

3.) When my sister asked me early this a.m. what I'd been reading recently, I told her about the weird twins-in-three-books-in-a-row bit. Then I offhandedly asked for her guess of the percentage of the world's births that are multiple. I had no idea of the answer and told her so, just a casual question, not unlike many such questions we've asked one another our whole lives. Her guess = 10%; I said I would have placed it closer to 1%. We left it there. 

4.) About an hour ago, after realizing I'd recovered enough from Saturday's curveball to write about something other than that, I came back to the books, those twins, and then recalled the conversation with my sister. Decided to ask Siri the multiple births question. Any guess before I get to the finish line? It's 3%. 

Before the last odd bit, I'll mention the books to ensure you at least get some reading ideas. a.) One of Us (2025) by Dan Chaon; selected in a pure library drive-by - on the strength of my adoration of an earlier novel by Chaon (Await Your Reply - 2009) - while looking for a novella by John Cheever. b.) The Sea (2003) by John Banville; a short meditative novel I've been meaning to get to ever since enjoying Banville's The Untouchable (1997), and also because Booker prizewinning books rarely let me down. c.) The Vanishing Half by Brit Bennett; been sitting in our home library since soon after its publication in 2020, a novel my wife read and recommended to me years ago.    

Ready, numerologists? Last three finished novels feature twins, 3% worldwide multiple birth rate, the post I planned to write postponed - because life interfered - now being published on 3/3.  If I were shameless, I'd wait to publish this until exactly thirty-three minutes past the hour. But I can't risk freaking out the numerologists. I need every reader I can get.   

Not Today

Since the inception of my blog, life has thrown a fair share of curveballs at me. I'm certain all of you have had just as many tossed your way, perhaps more. 

What do I know this moment? None of us get through life unscathed. What do I do next? Be there for the people who depend on me. 

When will it feel OK to publish something here that is unconnected to my pain?     

A Shoutout on Myrrh's Day

Over a music-obsessed lifetime, I've yet to run across a single song that uses Thursday as its focus, let alone in its title. I'm certain some have been written - a quick AI search no doubt would uncover a few obscurities that have escaped this geek - but surely Thursday holds the record for least celebrated day of the week, musically. 

And there's a plausible explanation for Thursday having remained forever in the musical cold. I mean, what is it exactly that sets today apart from its brethren? What feature gives Thursday any distinct flavor at all? Monday is all about getting busy, Saturday is a bad day to run errands because everyone has the same idea. Wednesday = hump day, thank God it's Friday, don't depend on everything being open on Sunday, day of rest, family dinner, etc. Thursday's only competition for being without a personality is Tuesday. But in that case at least the Moody Blues sang about Tuesday Afternoon. And many years before, Ira Gershwin memorialized that almost-as-nondescript day by rhyming it with "my good news day" in The Man I Love. Rhyming possibilities for Thursday? A little thin. Try it. Maybe it's her day? Perhaps liverwurst day? 

What we clearly have here are two musical tiers. That is, even folks who've given this admittedly arcane matter no thought - most folks, I would imagine - could readily name at least one song with Monday, Friday or Sunday in its title. That's the top tier. The bottom tier - Tuesday, Wednesday, Saturday - has definitely gotten far less musical attention. But Thursday? Tier-less, barely a mention (I don't count that throwaway line "Thursday goes too slow" from Friday on My Mind), a day without a notable theme song. If I get on it right now, this could be my shot at musical immortality. Stay tuned.

Upending Low Expectations

Given my indiscriminate movie jones, my low expectations for genre films are bound to be upended periodically. Such was the case when I recently stumbled across The Marksman (2021). 

Although this Liam Neeson vehicle dutifully checked off many of the "action" boxes - car chases, lots of gunfire, stoic hero and cardboard villain - there were several touches that helped elevate it above pure popcorn fare. Here are a few:

* The actor playing Miguel (Jacob Perez) is wholly believable as a young boy grieving his mother. The solid script deftly juxtaposed Miguel's grief as counterpoint to Neeson's recent loss of his wife. 

* The vast reach of Mexican drug cartels using modern technology is presented matter-of-factly. That wise choice made the scary parts of this tense story credible and even more terrifying.

* The final two scenes - no spoilers - are perfectly balanced.   

Bottom line: With my low expectations for action films going in, I was prepared to be diverted, at best. Instead, I was involved throughout and more surprisingly, quite moved at the end. Can't recall the last time I used the word "moved" referring to an action film. What was the last instance when your low expectations were similarly upended, by a film, a book, some music, or otherwise?