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My most recent single release - "My True North" - is now available on Bandcamp. Open my profile and click on "audio clip".

Monday, February 17, 2025

Better Off Without Them

How about we reverse the paradigm this year on President's Day? Although I'm all for celebrating the significant contributions both George & Abe made, why not tell me which two presidents you think we would have been better off without? Just a few guidelines before you nominate your two dodos.

* Confine nominations to the presidents who served in the only two full centuries the nation has lived through so far, i.e., the 19th and the 20th. I know this guideline might annoy some of you because of the serious shenanigans we've already endured in the 21st century. But I'd like this to be more about rear-view mirror history than present-day ranting, even if that ranting is justified. Besides, confining your choices to one president from each full century gives you a lot more possibilities to consider.   

* In the 19th century, neither William Henry Harrison nor James Garfield lived long enough to be fairly judged so leave those two out. 

* However, all the accidental presidents - e.g., John Tyler in the 19th century and Gerald Ford in the 20th - are legitimate candidates for your scorn. Ready for my nominations?

From the 19th century, I nominate Andrew Johnson - one of those accidental guys, BTW - for how quickly he began trying to dismantle pieces of Lincoln's legacy. In addition, Johnson holds the dubious distinction of being our first chief executive to be impeached, although he - like the other two with an asterisk next to their names - escaped being convicted by the Senate. By one vote.  

From the 20th century, I struggled more to make a final selection, especially because I've been around since Harry Truman held the highest job. But in the end, at least for me, Warren G. Harding eased out his serious competitors for someone we would have been better without. There have arguably been more corrupt administrations before and after Harding's, but his stands out for its blatant audacity. 

Why not join me in some harmless historical revisionism? Look at it this way. The only living person's feelings you can hurt are Bill Clinton's. I suspect he's heard worse.   

Friday, February 14, 2025

Talkative? Or ... Garrulous?

Not long ago, I listened to a woman making use of her good vocabulary during a prepared speech she was giving to her peers. I did not feel she was being at all showy. Nevertheless, it did not surprise me when I later over-heard people saying they thought the speaker used too many "...big words..."

Some of you may be familiar with this advice often given to public speakers: "Speak to express, not to impress". This can be a useful guideline. At the same time, I have seen this advice work against people who have a strong and natural command of words both in public speaking situations and otherwise. They sometimes begin second-guessing themselves. Instead of using "garrulous", they stumble to find "talkative". Are they perhaps worried about others thinking they're using "big words" even though both have the same number of syllables? Or, is it possible that speakers who dumb down their good vocabularies are not giving their listeners enough credit? What is your view on this? What are you inclined to do when someone you're not close to uses a word you don't know?

I admire speakers -and authors - who use simple words well. I also love when someone challenges me to be smarter. Consequently, I like when people use words they have naturally at their disposal, even if a word is unfamiliar to me. I'm a big boy and welcome taking responsibility for my own learning.

Tuesday, February 11, 2025

My Missing Valentine

Why not wait until the holiday to publish a post about my missing Valentine?

Well to begin with, the last time she and I were apart for more than two weeks was in late 1978 when I hitchhiked across country and back. So far, she's been away ten days and there are still ten more to go. Not that I'm keeping track. 

Also, this Friday will be the first time we've been apart on a Valentine's Day since we first celebrated the holiday together in February of 1979. Last year we were in Pretoria on February 14. In 2023, we had dinner at a favorite local restaurant. Not that I pay real close attention to what has happened on past Valentine's Days. 

Did I mention I won't get to hear her thoughts at the discussion at my book club tonight? Over the eight + years the club has been in existence, she's missed perhaps five meetings. Not that I noticed.

So, why not wait to publish this post until the holiday? It's not like she's crossed my mind since she left on February 2nd. On Valentine's Day, I guess I'll have to be satisfied knowing our new grandson is getting the undivided attention of the best person he might ever know, instead of me getting all the attention. It's a hardship, but I'll cope. 


Saturday, February 8, 2025

Icing on the Cake

Although learning about history has always appealed to me, until I stopped working full time, reading about it was not a priority. Before 2010, I relied more on film than I did on books to help me augment the little historical knowledge I'd gotten during my school years. I knew film was an inadequate substitute, but leisure hours were limited and the concentration required to finish books of history - especially the longer ones - frequently eluded me. On the top of my pile in the full-time work years were either novels or non-fiction connected to my work or, of course, books about music. 

For the last fifteen years, with respect to books of history, calling myself an intermediate dilettante is, I think, reasonably accurate. However, thanks to the newest book club I've joined - a club that reads only non-fiction - it's now possible I'll get to the advanced dilletante level in Act Three. So far, this club has gone three for three in selecting terrific books of history that I would never have picked on my own. The latest: Valiant Ambition: George Washington, Benedict Arnold, And the Fate of the American Revolution (2016). Why would I not have picked this?

* The excellent author - Nathaniel Philbrick - was unknown to me. That's never a deal-breaker, but when it comes to history, I'm more inclined to return to favorites (Joseph Ellis, Erik Larsen, David McCullough), because I know how their storytelling skills make the history come alive. I'm a little gun-shy picking an unknown historian in a library drive-by because I'm concerned I may give up before finishing. The good news? Philbrick is now someone I'll willingly return to. 

* Because George Washington was the subject of another fantastic book of history I read not long ago - Mr. President (Harlow Giles Unger) - I wouldn't normally return to read another book centering on the same historical figure so soon. But the way Philbrick toggled between Washington and Arnold while delivering this material provided a totally different dimension to our origin story than Unger did in his book. And Philbrick's preface was masterful; he had me from page one.   

This all adds up to an inescapable conclusion, something I suspect some of you may have heard others say. One of the best reasons to join a book club is to be introduced to authors and books unfamiliar to you. Icing on the cake for me: My newest club is focusing on history. Cool. 


Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Words for the Ages: Line Thirty-Four

"Love is the answer ... for most of the questions in my heart."

I realize Lennon & McCartney may have expressed a similar sentiment more succinctly in the title of their classic hit All You Need Is Love. But for me, the terse lyric above from Better Together - a Jack Johnson tune from 2005 - holds its own alongside all the lyrics I've used here as words for the ages since initiating this series in May 2017. And pardon my hubris but I submit John & Paul would agree the seven additional words Johnson used - vs. their original five - provide a fresh dimension to their thought.

From the start, I made a commitment to resist using any lyricist more than once for this series. Now sometimes, when several months pass between iterations, the treasures of lyricists already used (e.g., Paul Simon, Joni Mitchell, Jackson Browne) test my commitment. But before succumbing and repeating someone, I recall how many greats have yet to be represented (e.g., Johnny Mercer, Smokey Robinson, Stephen Sondheim) and return to the task at hand. That task is to continue carefully listening for a terse lyric that stands alone, i.e., does not depend on a rhyme to complete the thought, and that lyric should be able to be easily recalled by an average listener. (FYI, the longest lyric used to date contains twenty words.) Finally, the thought must contain a universal truth that will stand the test of time, i.e., these must be words for the ages. 

Any other nominations from Jack Johnson's catalog? Or how about a nomination of a lyric from one of the three greats mentioned above that I haven't yet used? I'm always listening.  


Sunday, February 2, 2025

RIP: 2016-2025

Since no one has ever asked - online or off - why I decided to re-run the post below every February 2nd since 2016 - changing only its title - this inside joke is officially deceased. I'm interring it primarily because dwelling on possible reasons why it generated near radio silence - no one thought it was remotely funny, clever, worth mentioning or, worst of all, no one noticed - is too demoralizing. RIP. 


Considering how many people outside of Punxsutawney ever pay attention, isn't it peculiar that of all the movies ever made about holidays few have come close to being as good as Groundhog Day?  What is your nomination for a holiday film that is the equal of Harold Ramis's goofy 1993 masterpiece?

Although I'm not a big Bill Murray fan, Groundhog Day is on the short list of films I've watched more than once. Of the several priceless bits in the movie, my favorite is probably Sonny & Cher warbling I Got You Babe on the clock radio that awakens Murray's character as he endlessly repeats February 2nd - a brilliant song choice. What alternative tune would you pick as a way to aurally depict a nightmare you can't escape? My top nominations would be either one of those treacly ballads Michael Bolton screamed during his brief but painful popularity or the musical torture inflicted on us by I-get-paid-by-the-sixteenth-note Kenny G.

Musical snarkiness aside, which bit from Groundhog Day plays over and over and over in your mind? And, if you were able to repeat a single day from your life, which one would you choose?

Saturday, February 1, 2025

Garth and Me

I've come to accept the fact that occasional thoughts of mortality and being introspective can go hand and hand. Fair warning to readers temperamentally inclined to equate random thoughts of mortality with morbidity: Skip the next three paragraphs. (BTW, same warning applies to those uninterested in bands from the 60s.) 

Upon learning of the recent passing of Garth Hudson - longstanding organist with The Band - it was hard for me to escape a temporary reflection on mortality. Hudson's death triggered this introspective blogger and musician who came of age in the 60s to muse - briefly - on an inescapable reality. 

Garth was the last surviving member of The Band, and though I didn't double/triple check - now that would be morbid - no other seminal, highly influential band that came to prominence in the 60s has yet to lose every founding member. Here's a quick, woefully incomplete, alphabetical list of those bands, i.e., groups in which members played their own instruments, that have at least one founding member alive: The Animals, Beach Boys, Beatles, Buffalo Springfield, Byrds, Chicago, Kinks, Rolling Stones, Santana, Who, Yardbirds. Don't quibble about who I left out or bother mentioning that the Four Tops lost their last surviving founding member last year. First, the Tops didn't play their own instruments. Second, it's beside the point anyway. 

Garth Hudson's passing - at the robust age of eighty-seven, BTW - gives me slight pause. I still have plenty of musical heroes left from the 60s. And an ever-increasingly small number of them still make some good music from time to time. But for me - and all of them - Act Three continues apace, which, of course, is preferable to the alternative. RIP, Garth - you had an impact on my musical life.        

Friday, January 31, 2025

One That Slipped By

What's been your most recent experience of a movie gem that slipped by you on its release? How did you uncover this hidden treasure? Recommendation? Accident while channel surfing? Your favorite blogger, aka fellow film buff, stumbling across it on a flight to L.A.?   

A good friend was telling me how she wasn't at all enticed to see one of the recently announced Academy Award nominees for best picture. Because this happens to me routinely - I still haven't seen either Lord of the Rings or Dune - my movie-saturated brain involuntarily began scanning for a recommendation for her that qualifies as an under-the-radar jewel. Anyone seen Memory, a late-in-2023 release starring Jessica Chastain and Peter Sarsgaard? 

The last movie I can readily recall featuring side-by-side central performances as strong as Memory - with a script to match - was the justly praised You Can Count on Me (2000) starring Laura Linney and Mark Ruffalo. The difference? Both Linney and screenwriter Kenneth Lonergan were recognized for their work on the earlier film. Memory got little enough attention that it took this indiscriminate geek completely by surprise. Although I love when this happens, considering how many truly terrible movies get released - some even praised, for heaven's sake - it's still mystifying to me when a film like Memory is overlooked. 

For the record, I like Bradley Cooper's acting. But giving Brad/Leonard a best actor nomination last year for Maestro (did anyone really need to see him sweating profusely in those torturously long close-ups?) while bypassing Peter Sarsgaard's subtly nuanced performance in Memory strikes me as hero or hunk worship or something. 

Tuesday, January 28, 2025

A Thinking Person's Page Turner

Despite the fact that I finished it back in mid-December while on our extended trip to L.A., I'm still buzzing from the kinetic energy that infuses Harlem Shuffle (2021). And though novels that reprise characters are normally not a go-to for me, I'm looking forward to seeing where Colson Whitehead will take me when he follows Ray Carney - "...only slightly bent when it comes to being crooked..." - in Crook Manifesto (2023). If that follow-up is even roughly equal to Harlem Shuffle, Carney will end up on a short list of characters I want to hang out with more than twice. Which fictional characters from your reading life have captivated you enough to read more than two novels that feature them?   

"Carney was confident in his salesmanship, especially on his home turf. Today's specials: surprise and sadness and curiosity."

Carney is a dedicated family man and mostly successful furniture salesman in late 50s, early 60s Harlem. But some of his family - notably his deceased father and very-much-alive cousin Freddie - dance to different music. His family's shenanigans and Ray's resentment of the pretensions of his effete in-laws complicate a facade he works hard to maintain. Using a classic three act structure, Whitehead never loses control of his propulsive narrative. 

"An envelope is an envelope. Disrespect the order and the whole system breaks down." That brief passage from Act Two - my personal favorite even though the body count is lower than Act One or Three - hints at one of the broader themes Whitehead explores in this terrific book, i.e., what really makes a city like New York work. Though this gifted author has more on his mind than entertaining you, you will keep turning those pages compulsively. I guarantee it.     

Saturday, January 25, 2025

A List-Maker's Dialectic

Although it's doubtful I'll ever totally abandon my lifelong list-making habit, modern technology has largely rendered that habit increasingly unnecessary. Any of my brethren - i.e., fellow list-makers - any ambivalence about this turn of events? 

Most of the lists I still maintain are personal ones e.g., favorite authors. But given how easy it is these days to find any author's complete bibliography, keeping a list of which books I want to read by any of my favorites is silly. I recently gave up adding to my list of palindromes, a practice established many years ago to help me pay more attention, and also something I thought might keep my brain a little sharper. But AI can generate a complete list of those instantly. With just a few keystrokes, the same goes for a fun list of almost any type, like anagrams or other types of wordplay. Or song titles with just a woman's name or names that double as puns or ... Getting a picture of the kind of stuff that filled some of my old notebooks?  

For me, lists have always been one portal to the creative process. Consequently, I'm hesitant to go cold turkey. On the other hand, I realize most of my lists became redundant years ago and not maintaining as many as I once did frees up time that can be used for creative endeavors. I'm grateful for that. I remain convinced, however, that over-reliance on technology vs. using the list-making part of my brain is not a foolproof solution. My lists are an adjunct that definitely help strengthen my memory. And maintaining a reasonable number of them additionally ensures I'm continually engaging the kinesthetic learning modality, along with the visual and auditory. Research has shown that using all three of those modalities regularly increases retention. 

Being able to instantly find anything, without lists, clearly has advantages. But for the time being I'm keeping my options open. List-making brethren: Where are you in this dialectic? 


Wednesday, January 22, 2025

Line Dancing

Am I the only one who finds it easier to see the line separating selflessness and selfishness by looking at the behavior of others vs. looking at myself? 

I'll start here. No one who has ever known me would describe me as selfless. I would never describe myself that way. I'm attached to my ego, I'm fond of my opinions, and I'm resistant - as often as not - to the idea of making my needs secondary to the needs of others. Neither a bromance with Dietrich Bonhoeffer nor achieving sainthood alongside Mother Theresa - time machine aside - goes along with the cards in my deck. 

Selfish? Here's where the line dancing gets tricky. I was raised Catholic, making selfishness roughly equal to mortal sin, i.e., hell and damnation. That scary and tenacious message created some serious cognitive dissonance when juxtaposed alongside normal adolescent impulses. Consequently, as a young adult/lapsed Catholic/thinking person, I rejected wholesale the selfish=sin bit, journeying toward hedonism, albeit half-heartedly. For the remainder of my life, especially after becoming a parent, I've moved away from craven selfishness, but as I indicated at the start, it's much easier for me to see the line when looking at others vs. looking at myself. That is, I think I can spot someone who appears to reflexively put themselves first - no matter the situation - but maybe that's just my recovering judgaholic getting the upper hand. 

I remain certain that selflessness and I are never destined to cross paths. I'm equally certain that the line separating selflessness and selfishness is one I'll be dancing on or near until I can dance no more.  

Sunday, January 19, 2025

Moments Across Years

 

I once heard it said we don't remember days, we remember moments. As thoughts of my daughter continually ran through my head on her birthday today, I paused to recall moments from her life that I'm sure will always remain with me.

* For the most recent moment, I selected the above - taken soon after the birth of my grandson - because it's fresh in my mind. And this picture also perfectly captures my daughter's playful and loving spirit.

* I've had so many transcendent musical moments with her, picking one is difficult. Today, I'll use a moment when she was in 5th grade and I was accompanying her on a LeAnn Rimes song called How Do I Live. When that school auditorium erupted with spontaneous applause after she effortlessly nailed the high note the first time through the chorus, I put my head down to avoid embarrassing myself. I was still regaining my composure as we left the stage together.

* While on a whale-watching excursion in Acadia National Park, I was holding my sleeping five-year old daughter against my chest. There was one magical moment that day when it felt to me like her heartbeat and mine had meshed. I'm guessing any woman who has ever been pregnant can relate to this. Although it wasn't my first bonding experience with my daughter, it remains a singular moment from my life. 

Happy birthday, sweetheart. 


Friday, January 17, 2025

Book Club Report: Year Eight

Before beginning to compile this post, I rewound and read all the previous iterations of this annual series dating back to when the No Wine or Whiners book club finished its first full year. Before you say it, I acknowledge how self-referential that sounds. But isn't it fun from time to time to remind yourself of books that have moved you? It is for me. Added bonus: Those older posts also brought back some nice moments from discussions of the 80+ books my club has tackled since its inception in January 2017.  

Because of three extended trips away from home in 2024, this past year ended up having fewer meetings than in any year since the club began. In addition, my not-entirely-successful experiment with a book of non-fiction essays - breaking up our discussion of that book over three non-consecutive meetings - ended up further reducing our usual number of titles. But the club continues to attract new members, the charter group of six remains in place, and the conversations almost uniformly exceed my expectations. 

And in an unusual twist, last year's undisputed winner for most well-received novel - This is Happiness (2019) by Niall Williams - and undisputed winner for most well-received book of non-fiction - Say Nothing (2018) by Patrick Radden Keefe - were both recommended to me by the same person. I met this reading soulmate - who also happens to be an author - on our February trip to Africa. So far, every title he has recommended to me - both while we were travelling together and in subsequent e-mails - has been a winner. Gotta love that. 

Please share with me and others some highlights from your book club involvement. More than a few times, readers of my blog have directed me to gems that could have easily gotten by me. Thanks in advance. 

       

Wednesday, January 15, 2025

The Nasty Inner Critic

How recently did your nasty inner critic prevent you from putting yourself out there?

Barring erratic Internet service, if more than three days have elapsed between my blog posts, it's safe to assume the nasty inner critic has gotten the better of me. At seventy-five years old, you'd think I'd done enough battling with this demon to ignore the incessant negativity. I wish. 

It's only a few paragraphs. There is no money riding on it. There is always something of interest to reflect on that someone might find worthwhile. Besides, even if my reflection lands with a thud, aside from me, who will know? Put another way, what's the worst that can happen? What then - you might reasonably ask - can that nattering voice say to stop me from putting myself out there? What possible harm could come from recommending a good book or musing about a worthwhile or marginal movie? Why not riff on an arcane word, deconstruct an aphorism, share the essence of a conversation, muse about a recent or upcoming adventure? Those are some of the good questions I've asked myself these last few days. Here's what the nasty inner critic has screamed back:     

IT'S ALREADY BEEN DONE!! IT'S BEEN DONE BETTER!! If you've rarely had to confront either of those statements when deciding to put yourself out there - in whatever form - congratulations. You've been more successful than me keeping the nasty inner critic in its place. Happens that this latest encounter with my nemesis wasn't stymied by those two screaming statements. This particular unwelcome visit stopped me cold by asking What is the point, Pat? That eternal and existential question is a surefire, if temporary, showstopper. 

What strategies do you use to help silence the nasty inner critic?  

 

Friday, January 10, 2025

Woody Completism (Mea Culpa)

I checked Wikipedia and it's official. After watching Melinda and Melinda (2004) a few nights ago and Rifkin's Festival (2020) while in California over the holidays, I've now seen every movie Woody Allen has written and directed over his long career as a filmmaker. I realize that publicly declaring this dubious distinction opens me up for censure, given the significant controversy that has engulfed Allen for years. Why - many could reasonably ask - would anyone want to make this claim? My simple, if inadequate, answer: completism. 

Have you ever wanted to hear - perhaps even own - every recording by a favorite musical artist? Read everything ever published by a beloved author? Visit every National Park? Collect every Hummel figurine? I submit most of us - if we're honest - have either indulged in or thought about some form of completism at some point in our lives. Maybe your completism carries less baggage than confessing what I have here. But when you reached that end, e.g., you had a meal at every five-star restaurant in Boston, you set foot on every continent, you completed the NY Times crossword puzzle every Sunday for a year, didn't that give you a rush of satisfaction? Admit it, if for no other reason than to make me feel better. 

For the record, neither of the films above was great but spending time with even an average Woody Allen movie - his greatly tarnished reputation aside - is preferable to much of what is available most of the time. My Mt. Rushmore of Woody films? Another Woman (1988), Blue Jasmine (2013), Crimes and Misdemeanors (1989), and Hannah and Her Sisters (1986). The last time a movie of his really enchanted me was a recent re-watch of Cafe Society (2016). This time around it hit me that none of Woody's other doppelgangers - Kenneth Branaugh in Celebrity (1998), Larry David in Whatever Works (2009), even Owen Wilson in Midnight in Paris (2011) - played him nearly as well as Jesse Eisenberg did in the later film. 

Final conflicted admission: I'll probably continue to re-watch selected Woody Allen films for the rest of my life. He's a flawed human being. Who isn't? He's also a great filmmaker and I love movies. I have no neat rationalization for my decision to continue supporting his art. Another of my flaws, I guess.  

Woody Allen filmography - Wikipedia  

Tuesday, January 7, 2025

Batting Four for Four: Elizabeth Strout

"This was the skin that protected you from the world - this loving of another person you shared your life with."

Yes, English teachers - many of us recall the rule about ending a sentence with a preposition. Who can be bothered with rules when captivated by a storyteller as skillful as Elizabeth Strout? Every one of the nine linked stories in Anything Is Possible (2017) is so nearly perfect that I'm unable to identify a favorite. The sentence opening this post from Windmills - was the first of many I felt compelled to copy. Not pulled in yet? How about this?

"People could surprise you. Not just their kindness but also their sudden ability to express things the right way."

That's from The Hit Thumb Theory, arguably the most heartbreaking story in the book. But large parts of it still manage to sing with an unmistakable joy because of Strout's always-present capacious heart. I'm not at all sure how she does this but I'm so grateful to be witness to her exceptional gift. 

"She suffered from only the most common complaint of all: Life had simply not been what she thought it would be."  

And Strout is way too skillful to pummel you with any capital "E" epiphany. The hard-earned wisdom in the everyday lives of her characters - like in the sentence above from Dottie's Bed and Breakfast - comes to a reader without flourish. This is an author who never raises her voice but can be clearly heard at all times. Years back, right after finishing the deservedly praised Pulitzer prizewinner Olive Kitteridge (2008), I suspected Elizabeth Strout was a keeper for me. After now reading three more of her books, I'm totally smitten. What a blast.  

"Yes, there it was, the perfect knowledge: Anything was possible for anyone."  (from Gift)   

Saturday, January 4, 2025

Practicing Gratitude

Soon after my wife's involvement with the Positive Psychology movement reignited my commitment to regularly documenting moments of gratitude in my journal, our daughter made a suggestion to us that she believed could take our gratitude practice to another level. And she was right.

It began in January 2020 when we placed a ready supply of post-it notes in several colors and a pen next to a large glass jar on our kitchen counter. Whenever either of us is reminded of something we are grateful for, we record the date and the thought, fold and then put the post-it into our jar. When we have guests at our home and we remember, we ask them if they'd like to contribute something. We've even begun taking a small supply of post-its with us during time away from home and asked both fellow travelers and family to join us if they'd like.

I've saved the best for last. On or near the first of the year, my wife and I turn the jar upside down and shuffle all the post-its we've collected. We then read them to one another - out of order - giving us an opportunity to re-live moments of gratitude from the past year. This tradition - now repeated five years running - has quickly become one of the undisputed highlights of our year. Each year we are reminded anew of both the richness of our lives and the power of practicing gratitude. How do you remind yourself to be grateful?       

Wednesday, January 1, 2025

Stop - Start - Continue: 2025

Among the once-each-year series I've created, Stop - Start - Continue, published on New Year's Day, has continually gotten some of the most positive feedback. I encourage you to join me here today - as some of you have in the past - and make a public commitment. There is substantial research indicating people are much more likely to follow through on public commitments than on ones they make only to themselves. 

In 2025, I will stop allowing closeness communication bias to get in my way when listening to people in my family of origin as well as with my wife and daughter. When I finished reading Kate Murphy's exceptional 2019 book You're Not Listening, it was clear that I'd fallen into the trap of frequently "thinking" I knew what people close to me we're going to say before they'd finished speaking. I'm now firmly committed to curbing this behavior. 

Reflections From The Bell Curve: Rescuing Ourselves

In 2025, I will start reading at least one well-regarded biography each year. My reading diet has been lacking in this particular protein for too long. I'm thinking of starting with a biography of Winston Churchill, a complicated, controversial, and critically pivotal twentieth century statesman.  

In 2025, I will continue to regularly attend open jazz jam sessions all across the area. This road has started out bumpy and I've had some demoralizing moments. But I'm driven to find my improvisational voice and to discovering more joy in what I'm able to do vs. being pre-occupied with what still eludes me. 

I look forward to learning what you plan to stop, start, and continue in 2025. If you have trouble with one or two, no worries. Commit to just one of the three. But be sure to tell me and others what that is, OK?