Late Summer Reading

Yesterday, our cable company changed their line-up. What this means is, whenever I pick up the remote and automatically enter the numbers pre-programmed into my fingertips, I end up with channels I normally don’t watch. It’s a bit like ending up with a book in a genre I don’t normally read. It’s odd and enjoyable and makes me want to recommend to each of you to go to the bookstore and go to a different section than you normally shop and pick up a book you wouldn’t normally read.

Or, better yet, post your absolute favorite book(s) here and other people can pick a late summer or early fall read from the list.

I’ll start:

Catch-22 by Joseph Heller

Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst and Ray Cruz

Sam 1; Statuary 0

Sam doesn’t like statues. I discovered that this weekend. We were at a different Farmers’ Market than normal Saturday morning and I paused near a bronze statue of a young Abraham Lincoln with a pig at his feet to adjust how I was carrying my packages and holding Sam’s leash. Next thing I know, there’s this strange noise coming from nearby. I glance over at Sam, and he’s low to the ground, staring hard at the statue, and growling. Before I can fully wrap my head around the idea of Sam growling in earnest, he starts barking at it, warning it not to come near, that he was prepared to defend himself, his territory, and his pack.

I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. Funniest thing I’ve seen in awhile.

I think we need to get him off the farm and out into the world a little more often. We have been trying.

The More Things Change

The more things change, the more they remain the same. I’m not certain who first said that and, as I write this, I’m not taking the time to do a quick search on the internet, but it’s true all the same.

Look, for example, at our shopping habits. There was a time a little over a century ago, when you took your own basket to the market to carry your purchases home. Then, stores started providing paper sacks, then plastic, then a choice. Now, environmentally conscious people take their own, reusable bags to the store with them in order to carry purchases home. Not so different, is it?

A few weeks ago, I was at a farmers’ market to buy locally grown, in-season, slow-grown produce for my family’s table. While there, a local hospital gave me a go-mug that included a clip to attach it to my belt or bag when it was empty. It was designed to encourage me to take it more places with me and use it more often than just the car. Looking at the design, I could not help but smile.

I’ve attended more than one Renaissance Festival in my day. I’ve worn made-to-look-like period clothing and I’ve admired the people who had far more interesting and authentic costumes than mine. I was just a weekender. There for a one-time, fun shot. There are people whose lives revolve around Ren Faires and their costumes are something to see. They spend months, if not years, researching and getting them right. One thing many of them have in common is they have a cup attached to their belt. When they get thirsty, they unclip it, have it filled, drink from it, and, when it is empty, the reattach it to their belt for the next use.

The concept is almost exactly like the one the hospital used for their go-cups, except using modern materials and a modern twist on the carrying mechanism. Oh, and all of the go-cups have lids. Only some of the Renaissance mugs did. These are the differences.

In the fullness of time, everything that is old will become new again.

In this environmentally conscious world, what will come around next? What's your best guess?

Write Like a Master

I am, unashamedly, a viewer of certain reality television shows. The ones that appeal to me are mostly those that are contests, rather than invitations to voyeurism and extreme behavior. As I once explained to my mother, they really are no different than the game shows popular in the 1970’s. Think The Newlywed Game. Real people put in front of the camera, being asked embarrassing questions, and being judged on their responses.

My two favorites have probably been Project Runway and Top Chef. I stumbled upon Project Runway in season four, I believe. Maybe season three. I’d never heard of it, but I was clicking through and I landed on Bravo while the contestants were standing on the runway being critiqued. Keep in mind, I own a needle. I can sew a button, and maybe a quick stitch for minor repairs, but if I need anything even hemmed, I either pay someone or strike a bargain with a family member. Didn’t matter. In a very few seconds, I was hooked. Why? Because as I lounged, listening to the contestants respond to the critiques, I didn’t see designers on the camera. I saw writers. There responses to the judges, how they handled the opinions of their work, how they responded… I recognized all the personalities I’d ever encountered when I’d critiqued other writers work.

Later, Kristine convinced me to watch Top Chef. The same thing was true there. As these individuals struggled to win, the creative egos shown through. You could see who was confident in their work, who had talent but had yet developed the skill to match, and whose ego surpassed their ability. You recognized the individuals no editor would ever want to work with, regardless of their talent, and the Golden Worders who may or may not come to learn their vision was the end all/be all of creation.

This year, there has been some shuffling in the schedule line-up, probably in part due Project Runway switching networks, has been somewhat messed up and, this summer, they are airing Top Chef Masters. Instead of the regular season of Top Chef, where 15-16 contestants compete against each other all season, until you get down to three who go head-to-head in one winner-take-all competition, chefs who are names, who are known, who are the Stephen King’s and Neil Gaiman’s of the culinary world, are competing for their favorite charities. Each episode, four famous chefs go head-to-head and one advances to the final round. And there’s a real difference in the personality of the competition.

During the regular season, all the competitors are hungry. They want this. Winning could propel their careers forward by years. It is the jumpstart, the chance, the one single break they dream of. As such, there is stress and tension. Tempers flare. Sure, they tend to help one another out and have fun, but they want to impress. They want to be noticed. They want to be the last person standing. For them, the competition is very, very personal.

For the Masters, not so much. They’ve already been noticed. People are already impressed by them. And while many of them comment they were surprised how difficult it was, and how they have a newfound respect for the regular contestants – they’re also much more relaxed. This is not the end all/be all for them. It’s fun. It’s something to do. It’s a game for bragging rights among equals who have already carved out their own niches. One made cookies while waiting for the judges verdict. Most of them laugh at some of the silly mistakes they made, at their inability to operate a microwave or keep track of their own grocery cart.

And I think there’s something to be said about the differences in attitudes between the up-and-coming chefs and the masters. Sure, we all want to make it, to be the name, the success, and to have the freedom and opportunity to relax that already being at the top affords. But there’s also something to be said for relaxing and having fun while you’re struggling to the top, and trying to make it.

After all, this creative thing isn’t supposed to be about ego. It’s supposed to be fun. We’re supposed to be enjoying it.

My suggestion for all of you reading this, when working on something creative, act like you’re already a master. Like you already have a niche. And by that, I don’t mean using your ego to crush others. I mean relax. Have fun. Enjoy yourself. I bet it shows in your work.

Non-blog post post

I’ve had lots of good ideas for posts for The Commune this week. Some ranting. Some pointing out good things. Some talking about writing. Some not. Some going “huh”? The end result, when this happens, when I’m bombarded by ideas all at once and they all seem very good and something I should write about now, immediately, before the timeliness disappears is, you get nothing, or rather, instead of nothing, you get a recent picture of and lots of babbling about the puppy.

He’s eight months old now, weighs somewhere around 50-lbs, and will still be in the chewing stage for at least two more months.

Most days, it's hard to remember how small he was a mere six months ago, but I'm glad he joined our lives, even when he's a complete and total PITA. I hope the chewing stage ends soon.