Thanks Bruce!

How many times has a song lyric or another piece of musical magic lifted you from a funk?

Early this morning I was driving and feeling a little low; fortunately, I had my I-pod cranking. With over 500 songs on there, I'm sometimes pleasantly surprised at a song coming on that I haven't listened to in a while. When "Better Days" from Bruce Springsteen's 1992  recording called "Lucky Town" played, I picked up on this lyric - "Every fool's got a reason for feeling sorry for himself...". Although I've always loved the lyrics to "Better Days", somehow that particular phrase had escaped me until this listening. But it was just what I needed to hear at that moment. What was the last piece of music that had a similar effect on you?

I've often read and heard it said that popular music (like Springsteen's) is, by definition, fleeting. I suppose there's some truth in that and it's possible not many people will be listening to "Better Days" 50 or 100 years from now. No matter - I get this kind of lift all the time from music and remain grateful this is so. Today it was a lyric; a few weeks ago it was listening to the musical telepathy between trumpeter Wynton Marsalis and his father Ellis on piano playing "The Very Thought of You"; next week it will be something else. Fleeting? Maybe, but isn't a lot of life about fleeting moments we need to be paying more attention to?      

The Empathy Gauge

Sometimes my empathy wears me out.

Although I don't believe it's possible to be too empathic, there are times when I tire of walking in other people's shoes. I'm not claiming to be an unselfish person; I have at least one good friend who fits that description and I'm not at all like her. But I often feel the pain of other people enough that I become emotional. Consequently, I've embarrassed myself more than once as well as making others uncomfortable. I guess I'm searching for some middle ground and looking for help.

I've also fantasized it would be neat if I could have an empathy gauge that others could easily see. If my gauge read "full" (like the gas gauge on a car dashboard) then others would know they might be in for an emotional reaction if they shared a story of hardship, discrimination, or loss with me. If my gauge was closer to "empty" then there could be less chance for tears from me. Or, I can check the imaginary gauge myself whenever anyone starts that type of story and then issue a warning, when appropriate. Actually, the idea of  people having a visible empathy gauge might be pretty cool all the way around. Those of us looking for  empathic responses might have a better shot getting what we need from others during difficult times.

Quiet Doppelganger Vs. Admitted Wonk

Given the limited reach of my blog, I doubt few have noticed - or will remember - but my doppelganger Mr. Id has made only about half a dozen appearances here since I introduced him in early May. And I have yet to post any of my evil twin's missives via Facebook. However, over the same 7 months, I've routinely referred to myself as a geek or nerd in several different contexts. A few of those posts have gone to my Facebook network. So, what gives? And, who cares?

Well, I guess I care. As I near the finish of an excellent 2003 book called How to Read Literature Like a  Professor by Thomas Foster, I thought about blogging about my enjoyment of it. Then I stopped. Wait a minute. Blog about how I enjoy reading books about reading books? I mean, how geeky, nerdy, wonkish can I be? Will anyone care to read about me reading about reading?

So, today's decision was not easy - whether I would be public (send to Facebook network) about my geek cup running over again. Or, remain semi-public (as I have with Mr. Id), just post and let the chips fall as they may. Now that I've made that decision, I'll begin the harder work, i.e., the "what gives?" part and that's where I need your help. What do you suppose prevents me - or you - from being more public about the Mr./Ms. Id many of us have bottled up? Put another way, how come it's easier to sometimes characterize ourselves in an unflattering way (me - geek, nerd, wonk; you - fill in the blanks) vs. sharing things that get under our skin?    

The First Noel Blog

For many years, Christmas day has been among my favorite days of the year. I'm guessing I'm not alone and curious, as always, to hear why this might be so for you. For me?

No work? Cool. The family time? Nice. Giving gifts? Satisfying. Receiving? Also satisfying, especially any unexpected books or music. Charity extended to commemorate the true spirit of the season? Need some improvement there but terrific when I get to it as I did this year, thanks to my wife. Religious rituals? Sorry,  secular blogger here. Food and drink? No-brainer.

But #1 for me? No one, most significantly Pat Barton, has any expectation that I will accomplish a single thing. I can sleep late, stay in my pajamas, nap on & off, continue eating all the leftovers from yesterday when we entertained my family. I feel no need to practice my guitar, exercise, meditate, journal, attend to any other discipline, or even necessarily to read. The phone will not ring, there will be little e-mail to look at, no snail mail delivered, no recycling or garbage to take to the curb. All day, without guilt, I ignore my "to do" list, along with all my other lists. And the final bonus? Outside it is quieter than any day of the year.

On my next Noel, I think I'll extend my Christmas "do nothing" pledge and also skip blogging. 

New Worlds And Words

Some months ago I was describing the volume of my recent reading to an old friend. He asked me "What's that doing for you?"  I  recall being taken aback by his provocative question but don't recall exactly how I responded. How would you answer? Then a little while following that conversation, I met Little Bee.

"I do not know if you have a word for this kind of singing".

That sentence is from "Little Bee", a 2008 novel by Chris Cleave. The context: The eponymous narrator, a refugee from Nigeria, is trying to describe to readers the sound of a woman singing. The singing woman is attempting to console a mother who lost her daughter during an escape from the chaos that ensued in Nigeria after huge oil reserves were discovered by the multi-national oil companies. Little Bee has a word for the singing from her native language (Ibo) and she also speaks perfect English, the official language of Nigeria. But she can't find a parallel word in English to describe the singing she is hearing.

The passage in "Little Bee" that included that sentence helped me formulate a partial answer to my friend's provocative question. Reading introduces me to worlds and words I might not have otherwise encountered. And to paraphrase Little Bee, I do not know if there is a word for this kind of magic. What would you call it?         

For My Future Reference

Has anyone out there ever known a person whose life has not been touched in some way by alcoholism or substance abuse?

To me, the near universality of this human experience is notable. Family members, friends, work colleagues & neighbors of mine have struggled. As often as not, I've been uncertain of the approach to take with these people in my life. Talk about what I've observed? Avoid the person and issue? Offer help? What kind of help? A support group? A counselor or therapist? Stage an intervention? Though I've studied this a bit and even briefly taught courses on alcoholism & substance abuse, having someone in your life is altogether different than teaching about some vague "others". Even knowing that an addict needs to hit their own bottom before they're ready to climb out feels like a platitude when it is someone I care about.  

In my experience, even though most of us have had to deal with this issue, few of us agree what action to take; often we strongly disagree. Some of us believe alcoholism is a disease; some do not. Some of us believe stopping is a matter of will for the alcoholic or addict; some of us believe stopping is about more than will. But these disagreements or discussions of different beliefs are of no use to the person who is struggling. So, how best can I be of use? Because I don't need it right this moment, this is a good time to ask for your help.


  

The Blur Of Time

The blur of time going by gets to me some days. What patterns (if any) have you detected relating to this condition many of us experience?

This particular time, the thought crept up on me as I was writing little notes to some family & friends on our holiday letter. Another year coming to an end; this probably happens to many people around now. Being as introspective as I am also contributes, no doubt. And a conversation I had last weekend with my daughter about defining success probably got me started on this path, though I didn't know it at the time.

For my almost 23 year old daughter what success means is front and center right now. It's possible this is related to the fact that her chosen field is more about passion than it is about security; that puts her at odds with some of her peers. But since we spoke, our conversation has gotten all tangled up in my head. Today it's mixed in with the blur of time. I'm remembering my almost 23 year old self thinking about success and struggling to land on that concept. 39 years have gone by - I'm still working on it.

Out Of It On Africa

Though I'm a geography nerd, I'm continually surprised how little I know about most of Africa. And my sister, one of the smarter people I know, struggles trying to match up country names given a map of the continent. So I suspect my shortcoming is not that unusual.  

A few weeks ago, I asked a NYC cabdriver where he was from. When he answered Ghana, I realized I knew nothing about his birthplace, except that it is in Africa. I could not name one city, the name of any country bordering it, wasn't even sure if Ghana is landlocked or not. Eddie was friendly & willing to educate me a bit but my ignorance annoyed me. How did I get to be 62 and know so little about the 2nd largest continent?

A few years ago I watched a really good, little-seen film called "The Visitor", starring the always reliable Richard Jenkins. I recall at the time laughing at a minor character in that film when she showed her ignorance of Africa, mistaking Senegal for South Africa. My self-righteous laughs came back to haunt me following my recent encounter with Eddie from Ghana. Time to break out the Atlas.