Why should newspapers, magazines and websites have all the fun with end of year "Best Of..." lists? Join me and share with others your "Best Of 2013", using my categories and/or any you want to invent.
Best time away: Our second trip to Kripalu Yoga Retreat. A quiet, idyllic setting, worthwhile personal enrichment classes, stimulating conversations with well read people - how can you miss?
Best concert: Heart. For more, see- http://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/2013/07/rockin-heaven-down.html
Best book club meeting: Discussing "Founding Brothers" by Joseph Ellis, something I would not have chosen to read on my own, arguably the best reason to belong to a book club.
Best discovery: The Lakota Wolf Preserve in Northern New Jersey. At the start of our improvised fall vacation, my sister told us of this. The couple running it personify the notion of living a vision, which always awes me.
Best ethnic meal: As our project to eat the cuisine of every country in the world approaches it's third anniversary, Babur Garden, an Afghani restaurant in nearby Ocean, NJ was the hands down winner for this category in 2013. Next update on that project coming in March.
Happy New Year!
Monday, December 30, 2013
Saturday, December 28, 2013
Ishmael And The Bass Drum
"Call me Ishmael."
Book geek and music nerd that I am, I was recently perusing a Goodreads list of memorable first sentences from literature while listening to Pandora. As I came across the compelling start of "Moby Dick", out of nowhere, the drum introduction from "Be My Baby" began pounding. And somehow in my addled brain, the two matched up. After all, each starts something majestic, right?
Mind you, the Ronettes tune was not playing on Pandora that very moment and, the song opens with six bass drum thumps vs. Melville's four syllables. But the longer I stared at that Goodreads list, the more song introductions began racing through my head, each lining up with an iconic opening sentence. Anything like this ever happen to you? Just asking.
So, I've already begun testing the reverse syndrome. Early today, I played the two measure (eleven notes if you're counting) introduction to "Daytripper" on my guitar. Any guesses which first sentence came to me? If you write me back (online or off) and the first sentence you match with that particular Beatles intro is the same as mine, let's you and I take it to the next level, OK? First - You match up musical intros with all those first sentences from the Goodreads list. Second - We compare lists. Last - We both get our meds adjusted.
Book geek and music nerd that I am, I was recently perusing a Goodreads list of memorable first sentences from literature while listening to Pandora. As I came across the compelling start of "Moby Dick", out of nowhere, the drum introduction from "Be My Baby" began pounding. And somehow in my addled brain, the two matched up. After all, each starts something majestic, right?
Mind you, the Ronettes tune was not playing on Pandora that very moment and, the song opens with six bass drum thumps vs. Melville's four syllables. But the longer I stared at that Goodreads list, the more song introductions began racing through my head, each lining up with an iconic opening sentence. Anything like this ever happen to you? Just asking.
So, I've already begun testing the reverse syndrome. Early today, I played the two measure (eleven notes if you're counting) introduction to "Daytripper" on my guitar. Any guesses which first sentence came to me? If you write me back (online or off) and the first sentence you match with that particular Beatles intro is the same as mine, let's you and I take it to the next level, OK? First - You match up musical intros with all those first sentences from the Goodreads list. Second - We compare lists. Last - We both get our meds adjusted.
Friday, December 27, 2013
My Grade (So Far): Logic
logic: reason or sound judgment, as in utterances and actions.
Though it's not logical to think anyone has, it would make my week if some reader told me they'd kept up with this whole series, grading themselves on all 23 attributes I've presented to date. And since it's impossible to know if you're telling the truth, why not just lie to me? It's a white lie that harms no one and makes this needy blogger feel good.
Using the definition, how would grade yourself (so far) on logic? As someone who has led more with my heart than my head, I guess I've been in "C" territory a good part of my life with this attribute. If I could start over, would I reverse that model? Although leading with my heart has led to some rough patches and I'm anxious to give myself a few more "A's" and "B's", I don't think I would. See what I mean? Even my answer to that question is not real logical. Yeah, it's a "C" for Pat on logic, at least for this marking period.
Next question: How much effort am I (are you) willing to devote to improving my grade for logic? Compared to my other attributes needing work, logic is more worthy of effort than charm but less worthy than generosity. Bottom line: I'll be needing those extra lifetimes, thank you.
Though it's not logical to think anyone has, it would make my week if some reader told me they'd kept up with this whole series, grading themselves on all 23 attributes I've presented to date. And since it's impossible to know if you're telling the truth, why not just lie to me? It's a white lie that harms no one and makes this needy blogger feel good.
Using the definition, how would grade yourself (so far) on logic? As someone who has led more with my heart than my head, I guess I've been in "C" territory a good part of my life with this attribute. If I could start over, would I reverse that model? Although leading with my heart has led to some rough patches and I'm anxious to give myself a few more "A's" and "B's", I don't think I would. See what I mean? Even my answer to that question is not real logical. Yeah, it's a "C" for Pat on logic, at least for this marking period.
Next question: How much effort am I (are you) willing to devote to improving my grade for logic? Compared to my other attributes needing work, logic is more worthy of effort than charm but less worthy than generosity. Bottom line: I'll be needing those extra lifetimes, thank you.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
#18: The Mt. Rushmore Series
Which last words spoken in movies would go up on your Mt. Rushmore? My four are so iconic I'm guessing most people will identify two or more of the films ending with these words without additional context or clues. In chronological order -
1.) "There's no place like home."
2.) "After all, tomorrow is another day."
3.) "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
4.) "Well, nobody's perfect."
Since I didn't get past 1959 here, another mountain or two might be in order. But prior to beginning construction, I first need to know your Mt. Rushmore of parting words.
1.) "There's no place like home."
2.) "After all, tomorrow is another day."
3.) "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."
4.) "Well, nobody's perfect."
Since I didn't get past 1959 here, another mountain or two might be in order. But prior to beginning construction, I first need to know your Mt. Rushmore of parting words.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
The Magical Eve
If you celebrated Christmas when you were younger, what do you recollect from back then about this day before the holiday?
My wife and I have been hosting Christmas Eve for my siblings and their families (most recent count = 21) and others (this year = add 4) for about 30 years. Whenever I find myself getting a little tense or crabby preparing for today, I try to recall the sweet anticipation from Christmas Eves of long ago when the four of us were growing up. Doing this invariably chases away the Scrooge in me.
A little before midnight on this day, once my parents had gone to bed, the four of us would rendezvous near the tree, located in the dining room adjacent to the bedroom my brother and I shared. We called it "camping out". For hours we'd stare at the wrapped presents, guessing what was in each. I'm sure my parents heard us whispering (they slept about 15 feet away on a converted porch) but they were too tired from their preparations to get out of bed and also knew we wouldn't dare open anything until they told us we could. What exquisite torture those hours were. Sometime around 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. we'd begin drifting off to sleep one-by-one. It was always a point of pride, a contest of sorts, to see who could stay awake longest.
Occurred to me as my younger sister left just a little while ago that around this time on this day more than a half century ago, four children were getting ready to camp out. Are Mommy & Daddy asleep yet?
My wife and I have been hosting Christmas Eve for my siblings and their families (most recent count = 21) and others (this year = add 4) for about 30 years. Whenever I find myself getting a little tense or crabby preparing for today, I try to recall the sweet anticipation from Christmas Eves of long ago when the four of us were growing up. Doing this invariably chases away the Scrooge in me.
A little before midnight on this day, once my parents had gone to bed, the four of us would rendezvous near the tree, located in the dining room adjacent to the bedroom my brother and I shared. We called it "camping out". For hours we'd stare at the wrapped presents, guessing what was in each. I'm sure my parents heard us whispering (they slept about 15 feet away on a converted porch) but they were too tired from their preparations to get out of bed and also knew we wouldn't dare open anything until they told us we could. What exquisite torture those hours were. Sometime around 3:00 or 4:00 a.m. we'd begin drifting off to sleep one-by-one. It was always a point of pride, a contest of sorts, to see who could stay awake longest.
Occurred to me as my younger sister left just a little while ago that around this time on this day more than a half century ago, four children were getting ready to camp out. Are Mommy & Daddy asleep yet?
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Completism
How does completism show up in your life?
Though I've never felt an obsessive need to own every Hummel figurine or collect every commemorative Presidential plate or see Bruce Springsteen every time he goes on tour, throughout my life, completism has had me in its grip in other ways.
At one time, I had to own every Poco recording. Completism is inherently illogical - the Beatles had a much greater musical impact on me and, it would have been easier and cheaper to own every Beatles recording, yet I continued purchasing mediocre Poco records just so my collection would remain complete.
My completism about seeing every Woody Allen film is equally mystifying. What else besides a mild form of compulsion can explain wasting time searching out movies that disappeared without a trace, but only those directed by Woody?
Author completism? You bet. But until I hear back from some of you (to re-assure me I'm not alone on the bell curve here), think I'll hold onto how completism afflicts me in that domain.
Though I've never felt an obsessive need to own every Hummel figurine or collect every commemorative Presidential plate or see Bruce Springsteen every time he goes on tour, throughout my life, completism has had me in its grip in other ways.
At one time, I had to own every Poco recording. Completism is inherently illogical - the Beatles had a much greater musical impact on me and, it would have been easier and cheaper to own every Beatles recording, yet I continued purchasing mediocre Poco records just so my collection would remain complete.
My completism about seeing every Woody Allen film is equally mystifying. What else besides a mild form of compulsion can explain wasting time searching out movies that disappeared without a trace, but only those directed by Woody?
Author completism? You bet. But until I hear back from some of you (to re-assure me I'm not alone on the bell curve here), think I'll hold onto how completism afflicts me in that domain.
Friday, December 20, 2013
Scanning The Dial, Searching For Wonder
Remember that scene from "Big" when Josh (Tom Hanks) impetuously and continually changes the car radio station driving Elizabeth Perkins to distraction?
Recently when I find myself stuck turning over the same idea in my head, I pretend I'm Josh and begin scanning an imaginary radio. Clumsy metaphor aside, as a creative strategy it seems to be working - my dry spells have gotten a little shorter. What strategies work for you when your creativity stalls? How often do you find yourself, as I do, getting fixated on a single idea or solution to the exclusion of alternatives? You know, like leaving the same radio station on all the time. And how do you get out of that loop?
Another useful creative strategy that scene from "Big" reinforces for me is staying alert to wonder. Though it's easy to forget to scan the dial, it's waiting to be searched, each discovery with the potential to fill you with wonder. Why not?
Recently when I find myself stuck turning over the same idea in my head, I pretend I'm Josh and begin scanning an imaginary radio. Clumsy metaphor aside, as a creative strategy it seems to be working - my dry spells have gotten a little shorter. What strategies work for you when your creativity stalls? How often do you find yourself, as I do, getting fixated on a single idea or solution to the exclusion of alternatives? You know, like leaving the same radio station on all the time. And how do you get out of that loop?
Another useful creative strategy that scene from "Big" reinforces for me is staying alert to wonder. Though it's easy to forget to scan the dial, it's waiting to be searched, each discovery with the potential to fill you with wonder. Why not?
Thursday, December 19, 2013
A Christmas Story
It's difficult to know when to let go.
Though it doesn't take much effort during the holidays to send a note or card to people who have slipped away, my internal conversation about doing so has shifted a little this year. Petty as it is, I've been trying to recall how long it has been since I've had any meaningful interaction with some people. By trying to maintain contact, however minimal, am I beginning to look needy, foolish or even worse, low-tech? Then, Hallmark cliches began playing in my head ("friends for a season, friends for a reason", etc.) and the ghost of Christmas future whispered - "Next year Pat, send out a group e-mail; it's easier, free, and people can block your e-mails without you knowing."
Maybe that's my answer to a similar holiday dilemma from the ghost of a Christmas past.
http://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/2011/12/tis-season-for-decisions.html
Technology; helping me with the ghost of Christmas present- gotta love it.
Though it doesn't take much effort during the holidays to send a note or card to people who have slipped away, my internal conversation about doing so has shifted a little this year. Petty as it is, I've been trying to recall how long it has been since I've had any meaningful interaction with some people. By trying to maintain contact, however minimal, am I beginning to look needy, foolish or even worse, low-tech? Then, Hallmark cliches began playing in my head ("friends for a season, friends for a reason", etc.) and the ghost of Christmas future whispered - "Next year Pat, send out a group e-mail; it's easier, free, and people can block your e-mails without you knowing."
Maybe that's my answer to a similar holiday dilemma from the ghost of a Christmas past.
http://reflectionsfromthebellcurve.blogspot.com/2011/12/tis-season-for-decisions.html
Technology; helping me with the ghost of Christmas present- gotta love it.
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