I haven't been bit by the writing bug in a long time, so naturally when it bit me this afternoon as I was preparing to head out for some shopping/Spanish lessons learned the hard way, I decided to entertain the bug...
I walked side-by-side with the ocean
and asked her for a word
a word of wisdom, pearl of truth
I asked for something good
She said to me did you find it
I knew not what she spoke of
She mentioned words of substance
of hope and faith and love
of beauty and of consequence
the things that we know not
I gazed at her, at infinity
and of all of this forgot
what it was that I came here for
until she spoke again
saying Take with you this experience
and keep it 'til your end
For what you've felt and thought and seen
stretches farther than any land
and to that end the tide rolled out
and I began to understand
I guess I've been out of the game for too long, since it's a rhyming poem, and I'm personifying the ocean like Hemingway...that said, it felt REALLY good to get that out and here's hoping there's more to follow. Alright back to your regularly scheduled wasting time online...
Talk to each other.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
December 15- Just Kidding
Got a job for 2010. Juuuust kidding. Good one, right? Wrong.
As a result of this shituation, I've decided to make a list of the things that I want to do with myself in the meantime. In the coming weeks, and certainly starting in 2010, I am going to have something to write about: getting goals accomplished. A friend of mine, Brian, had started a similar idea with his blog (located HERE), and I have decided to piggy-back on that idea only using it to suit my own purposes. I've decided to put more effort into writing in the coming year, as I didn't do it as much as I should. As a result, I have not honed my craft as much as I should like.
This muck-up has given me much to look forward to in 2010...
By the way, I have already bitten the weenie on both my giving up swearing (lasting until the 3rd), and not writing (my whirlwind trip to New York accounted for some,but not all, of this). So for the year, I have come up short on my ultimate goal of giving these things up for months at a time. The list is as follows:
Drinking (Jan.)- SUCCESS
Masturbating (Feb.)- FAILURE
Looking for Trouble (Feb.)- SUCCESS
Shaving the 'Stache (Mar.)- SUCCESS
New and Different Album Every Day (Mar.)- SUCCESS
Salt on Food (Apr.)- SUCCESS
5 Books in a Month (Apr.)- FAILURE
TV (May)- SUCCESS
Exercise Daily (May)- FAILURE
Biting Nails (Jun.)- SUCCESS
Twirling Hair (Jun.)- SUCCESS
Cracking Knuckles (Jun.)- SUCCESS
Post Every Day (Jun.)- SUCCESS
Texting While Driving (Jul.)- SUCCESS
Help Someone Every Day (Jul.)- SUCCESS
Avoid Second Portions (Aug.)- FAILURE
Finish Half-Read Books (Aug.)- SUCCESS (finished 4)
Crossing Legs While Sitting (Sept.)- FAILURE (though I DID stop when I caught myself)
Plan Diet (Sept.)- SUCCESS
October- FAILURE (justified)
Cell Phone (Nov.)- SUCCESS
Daily Conversation in Spanish (Nov.)- SUCCESS
Swearing (Dec.)- FAILURE
Write Every Day (Dec.)- FAILURE
16 for 24....a solid .667 average. By most measures, that's pretty good. While I will continue to try (and in some cases, retry) giving these things up in the future (and while I'll continue to post here), I will be reflecting on the year that was as the year comes to a close. It's been a wild one and just in reviewing some of these posts, I've grown. By how much is a question mark, but the fact that I have is not up for dispute. I look forward to the coming year and hope that you will join me!
Talk to each other.
As a result of this shituation, I've decided to make a list of the things that I want to do with myself in the meantime. In the coming weeks, and certainly starting in 2010, I am going to have something to write about: getting goals accomplished. A friend of mine, Brian, had started a similar idea with his blog (located HERE), and I have decided to piggy-back on that idea only using it to suit my own purposes. I've decided to put more effort into writing in the coming year, as I didn't do it as much as I should. As a result, I have not honed my craft as much as I should like.
This muck-up has given me much to look forward to in 2010...
By the way, I have already bitten the weenie on both my giving up swearing (lasting until the 3rd), and not writing (my whirlwind trip to New York accounted for some,but not all, of this). So for the year, I have come up short on my ultimate goal of giving these things up for months at a time. The list is as follows:
Drinking (Jan.)- SUCCESS
Masturbating (Feb.)- FAILURE
Looking for Trouble (Feb.)- SUCCESS
Shaving the 'Stache (Mar.)- SUCCESS
New and Different Album Every Day (Mar.)- SUCCESS
Salt on Food (Apr.)- SUCCESS
5 Books in a Month (Apr.)- FAILURE
TV (May)- SUCCESS
Exercise Daily (May)- FAILURE
Biting Nails (Jun.)- SUCCESS
Twirling Hair (Jun.)- SUCCESS
Cracking Knuckles (Jun.)- SUCCESS
Post Every Day (Jun.)- SUCCESS
Texting While Driving (Jul.)- SUCCESS
Help Someone Every Day (Jul.)- SUCCESS
Avoid Second Portions (Aug.)- FAILURE
Finish Half-Read Books (Aug.)- SUCCESS (finished 4)
Crossing Legs While Sitting (Sept.)- FAILURE (though I DID stop when I caught myself)
Plan Diet (Sept.)- SUCCESS
October- FAILURE (justified)
Cell Phone (Nov.)- SUCCESS
Daily Conversation in Spanish (Nov.)- SUCCESS
Swearing (Dec.)- FAILURE
Write Every Day (Dec.)- FAILURE
16 for 24....a solid .667 average. By most measures, that's pretty good. While I will continue to try (and in some cases, retry) giving these things up in the future (and while I'll continue to post here), I will be reflecting on the year that was as the year comes to a close. It's been a wild one and just in reviewing some of these posts, I've grown. By how much is a question mark, but the fact that I have is not up for dispute. I look forward to the coming year and hope that you will join me!
Talk to each other.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
December 13- Remembering a hero
I've been terrified of digging deeper into what the last ten days have been like, and putting any sort of accuracy into the sense of loss that I'm feeling. The situation being what it is and the surreal sort of week that has transpired has further dizzied me up. That said, without addressing this stunned feeling, the prolonging of grief would surely continue past the point of returning home. So I'm left with a need to look within myself and tease out a few strands to make some sense of this tragic incident which took place far, far too soon.
On December 2nd, my Uncle Tom passed away. To say that this was sudden would be a profound understatement. Being in Chile, the news did not spread to me until the next morning, when I was contacted immediately upon arriving at school. After turning my computer on in an attempt to find some Christmas songs/movies to play for my students, I heard the ringing of Skype. As anyone who has ever lost anyone can tell you, you are never prepared for this call.
As I think about everything I can remember, this feeling of not quite getting it right is washing over me. To properly express what he meant to me would be to riddle this writing with cliches about being a father figure and all of that. This doesn't mean it's not true- it is- it just feels like my ability to express the measure of importance that Uncle Tom had in my life would be disserviced by a compact statement like the aforementioned loss of a father figure.
Here's the thing: without a father in my own house growing up, I looked up to Uncle Tom in the same sort of way that I would my grandfather, the main difference being that I saw Uncle Tom more often. What I love about him most was that he always made me feel like part of his (immediate) family. Despite raising 5 girls with my Aunt Kathy, Tom's house was a second home for my siblings and I for as long as I can remember. That sort of open door spirit, as I've come to learn over the years, was indicative of how Tom lived his life; you'd have a hard time believing that he would have any other sort of relationship with anyone else because of how well he treated you.
I remember going to a Mets/Padres doubleheader one summer with Kathy and Tom and my brother, Erik, and staying until the end of the second game, a 14-inning affair. It was one of many memories of the two of them that you wish would never end. I often credit my love of the game of baseball to Tom's interest in the sport itself, though of course watching the Yankees was the best part about it. I remember having such pride in watching Don Mattingly play, and hearing that Tom respected Mattingly's heart. My hero had respect for my favorite player, validating my rooting for #23 for the rest of his career and the rest of my life. I fondly remember hearing, "Mantle was the best I ever saw..." and sat intently while he told me about being a fan as a kid. Of course, like so many family stories that never get old, my favorite was hearing him talk about Game 6 of the 1977 World Series and going with Kathy. It brought the picture full circle, a marriage between love and baseball; these, surely, are the things that dreams are made of.
I can only vaguely remember my first Jets game- a 19-16 win over the Packers- which was memorable only because of Tom; at the age of 6 or 7, a football game was such a big deal, and that I was invited to the game earned me a seat on top of the world. While my interest in the Jets waned, I was happy to say that one of two Jets games I've ever been to has been with him. Last year, we managed to share a beer before the Jets-Dolphins game at the Meadowlands. At the time, I was so happy to have Tom and Susan there while I enjoyed an afternoon with my buddy Jay and his sister and his dad, Stan. The occasions where I've had a father figure of my own around have been slim enough that this was a big deal to me.
Uncle Tom's affable demeanor was contagious. He loved to laugh, and if you weren't laughing at him, you were laughing with him. He had a laugh that invited you to join, since there was always something to smile at. I think of when I was younger and not fully aware of the humor of the adult table, and no matter how unaware I was of any of it, I knew something funny was going on because I could hear Tom from the other end of the house.
I observed the true meaning of Thanksgiving from Uncle Tom. It was the first year after the Nerfs had a fire in their house and were staying with my grandparents. As is the custom in our family, all of us shared what we were thankful for. Despite all that had gone on and the doubtless weight that must have been on their shoulders, both Kathy and Tom remained optimistic and thankful for having a large and loving family. No 'woe is me' cards being played at the table. You heard the words and knew it was true, that with everything going on in the world, his family was something to be thankful for. And it remains stronger than steel to this day.
Over the last week or so, I've heard so many people that knew Tom said that his faith and his love were never in question. He lived the righteous path, and he loved his wife and his daughters, his sisters and his grandkids all the same: openly and unconditionally. He raised and passed on his selfless qualities to five of my best friends, and he still managed to make my siblings and I feel just as special and important. His presence at games and rides home from practices were appreciated all the more because of the schedule and work that he would be putting in to help support his family. What made any accomplishment I had on stage all the better was having the support of my family visible in the audience, and Uncle Tom was no exception. Seeing he and Aunt Kathy in the seats during my senior year production below the brightness of the lights made the day more special.
Maybe the most lasting memories I have of Uncle Tom (besides the vocal disapproval of A-Rod, Mike Stanton, and a host of other ballplayers) were the moments that one would remember sharing with their father. I remember he had offered to take me to the dreaded "What's happening to my body?" video presentation at Overlook. In hindsight, that gesture alone makes him more worthy of praise than before...when the night came to actually go, he asked if I wanted to go. I said "nope", and we didn't go. I had the paperback version and while I can't recommend the book over the movie since I never saw it, I was reassured when he told me that if I had any questions, to not be afraid to ask. While joking made the mood lighter, it stands out now as a stand-up thing to offer to do for a kid hitting puberty.
The year Pop died, I rode out to the Lake with Tom to clean the gutters and rake leaves. Our conversation drifted to Pop, as it had before, and in turn to my own father. He asked how things were going, and the advice he gave me which resonates so clearly now was this: life's too short. It's the attitude that if things go unsaid, it becomes an awful lot to live with. While no one he knew and loved questions that love, I'm sure many of us have people with whom we are out of contact because of such things as fear or anger, bitterness or dislike. The best thing I ever learned from my uncle is that communicating is a good idea; sadly, the idea that life's too short has been driven home all too deeply.
Uncle Tom will be missed by those who knew him, and his legacy will continue in his wife, each of his five daughters, their husbands, and his three grandchildren. As for me, it's another hero who was called away from this life too soon. However, I've learned enough from my hero to realize that for the things we have in life, we are to be thankful to God, and for the rest, I will do my part and use Tom Nerf as an example of what a real man is. I love you, Uncle Tom, and hope you'll continue to watch over me.
Talk to each other.
On December 2nd, my Uncle Tom passed away. To say that this was sudden would be a profound understatement. Being in Chile, the news did not spread to me until the next morning, when I was contacted immediately upon arriving at school. After turning my computer on in an attempt to find some Christmas songs/movies to play for my students, I heard the ringing of Skype. As anyone who has ever lost anyone can tell you, you are never prepared for this call.
As I think about everything I can remember, this feeling of not quite getting it right is washing over me. To properly express what he meant to me would be to riddle this writing with cliches about being a father figure and all of that. This doesn't mean it's not true- it is- it just feels like my ability to express the measure of importance that Uncle Tom had in my life would be disserviced by a compact statement like the aforementioned loss of a father figure.
Here's the thing: without a father in my own house growing up, I looked up to Uncle Tom in the same sort of way that I would my grandfather, the main difference being that I saw Uncle Tom more often. What I love about him most was that he always made me feel like part of his (immediate) family. Despite raising 5 girls with my Aunt Kathy, Tom's house was a second home for my siblings and I for as long as I can remember. That sort of open door spirit, as I've come to learn over the years, was indicative of how Tom lived his life; you'd have a hard time believing that he would have any other sort of relationship with anyone else because of how well he treated you.
I remember going to a Mets/Padres doubleheader one summer with Kathy and Tom and my brother, Erik, and staying until the end of the second game, a 14-inning affair. It was one of many memories of the two of them that you wish would never end. I often credit my love of the game of baseball to Tom's interest in the sport itself, though of course watching the Yankees was the best part about it. I remember having such pride in watching Don Mattingly play, and hearing that Tom respected Mattingly's heart. My hero had respect for my favorite player, validating my rooting for #23 for the rest of his career and the rest of my life. I fondly remember hearing, "Mantle was the best I ever saw..." and sat intently while he told me about being a fan as a kid. Of course, like so many family stories that never get old, my favorite was hearing him talk about Game 6 of the 1977 World Series and going with Kathy. It brought the picture full circle, a marriage between love and baseball; these, surely, are the things that dreams are made of.
I can only vaguely remember my first Jets game- a 19-16 win over the Packers- which was memorable only because of Tom; at the age of 6 or 7, a football game was such a big deal, and that I was invited to the game earned me a seat on top of the world. While my interest in the Jets waned, I was happy to say that one of two Jets games I've ever been to has been with him. Last year, we managed to share a beer before the Jets-Dolphins game at the Meadowlands. At the time, I was so happy to have Tom and Susan there while I enjoyed an afternoon with my buddy Jay and his sister and his dad, Stan. The occasions where I've had a father figure of my own around have been slim enough that this was a big deal to me.
Uncle Tom's affable demeanor was contagious. He loved to laugh, and if you weren't laughing at him, you were laughing with him. He had a laugh that invited you to join, since there was always something to smile at. I think of when I was younger and not fully aware of the humor of the adult table, and no matter how unaware I was of any of it, I knew something funny was going on because I could hear Tom from the other end of the house.
I observed the true meaning of Thanksgiving from Uncle Tom. It was the first year after the Nerfs had a fire in their house and were staying with my grandparents. As is the custom in our family, all of us shared what we were thankful for. Despite all that had gone on and the doubtless weight that must have been on their shoulders, both Kathy and Tom remained optimistic and thankful for having a large and loving family. No 'woe is me' cards being played at the table. You heard the words and knew it was true, that with everything going on in the world, his family was something to be thankful for. And it remains stronger than steel to this day.
Over the last week or so, I've heard so many people that knew Tom said that his faith and his love were never in question. He lived the righteous path, and he loved his wife and his daughters, his sisters and his grandkids all the same: openly and unconditionally. He raised and passed on his selfless qualities to five of my best friends, and he still managed to make my siblings and I feel just as special and important. His presence at games and rides home from practices were appreciated all the more because of the schedule and work that he would be putting in to help support his family. What made any accomplishment I had on stage all the better was having the support of my family visible in the audience, and Uncle Tom was no exception. Seeing he and Aunt Kathy in the seats during my senior year production below the brightness of the lights made the day more special.
Maybe the most lasting memories I have of Uncle Tom (besides the vocal disapproval of A-Rod, Mike Stanton, and a host of other ballplayers) were the moments that one would remember sharing with their father. I remember he had offered to take me to the dreaded "What's happening to my body?" video presentation at Overlook. In hindsight, that gesture alone makes him more worthy of praise than before...when the night came to actually go, he asked if I wanted to go. I said "nope", and we didn't go. I had the paperback version and while I can't recommend the book over the movie since I never saw it, I was reassured when he told me that if I had any questions, to not be afraid to ask. While joking made the mood lighter, it stands out now as a stand-up thing to offer to do for a kid hitting puberty.
The year Pop died, I rode out to the Lake with Tom to clean the gutters and rake leaves. Our conversation drifted to Pop, as it had before, and in turn to my own father. He asked how things were going, and the advice he gave me which resonates so clearly now was this: life's too short. It's the attitude that if things go unsaid, it becomes an awful lot to live with. While no one he knew and loved questions that love, I'm sure many of us have people with whom we are out of contact because of such things as fear or anger, bitterness or dislike. The best thing I ever learned from my uncle is that communicating is a good idea; sadly, the idea that life's too short has been driven home all too deeply.
Uncle Tom will be missed by those who knew him, and his legacy will continue in his wife, each of his five daughters, their husbands, and his three grandchildren. As for me, it's another hero who was called away from this life too soon. However, I've learned enough from my hero to realize that for the things we have in life, we are to be thankful to God, and for the rest, I will do my part and use Tom Nerf as an example of what a real man is. I love you, Uncle Tom, and hope you'll continue to watch over me.
Talk to each other.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
December 1- November re-cap, December
Alright just a brief re-cap of November before I get going into what December's 'sacrifice' is...
November was a success, and required a little bit of weaseling out of using a phone (ordering food, answering questions, etc.). For the 2 or 3 times that I've really wanted to use my cell phone this past month, there have been countless times when I've been REALLY glad I don't have it with me here in Antofagasta. It feels good to have that freedom and disconnection from the world...most of the time. As for the daily interaction, I was successful every day that I left my apartment. Due to a stomach bug, there were two such days that I didn't leave the apartment. Otherwise, I picked up bits and pieces of the language in an everyday sort of way (ordering food, asking for directions). Over the weekend, for example, I went to Mejillones, a sleepy town on the coast that is in the middle of the desert. Our taxi driver chatted me up and while I felt VERY overwhelmed, it was a good learning experience, thanks to his pointing and repetition. It's for these people that I am also very thankful.
Recently, I've been going through a lot of difficulty in grasping the enormity of this transformation of self. It's hard to imagine that everything can be susceptible to change, but here it is. Nothing has been made exempt, and so it has been incredibly trying, while for the most part extremely satisfying. More on that to come. In the meantime, it's a new month and that means new challenges. It's amazing to think that by the end of this month, not only will I be home, but the year will be over. 2009 will have come and gone with big changes and big goals, some of which were met, some of which were not. What a trip it's been. More of re-capping to come, and certainly more of my South American adventure to report.
In December, I plan on giving up swearing. I do it too much too often, and it's a good goal to curb that sort of behavior. I put the odds on doing this at about 1,000:1. In the meantime, my daily task will be writing for at least a little bit every day. I brought a journal with me, and so I should be dedicating more time to writing in it than I have.
Talk to each other.
November was a success, and required a little bit of weaseling out of using a phone (ordering food, answering questions, etc.). For the 2 or 3 times that I've really wanted to use my cell phone this past month, there have been countless times when I've been REALLY glad I don't have it with me here in Antofagasta. It feels good to have that freedom and disconnection from the world...most of the time. As for the daily interaction, I was successful every day that I left my apartment. Due to a stomach bug, there were two such days that I didn't leave the apartment. Otherwise, I picked up bits and pieces of the language in an everyday sort of way (ordering food, asking for directions). Over the weekend, for example, I went to Mejillones, a sleepy town on the coast that is in the middle of the desert. Our taxi driver chatted me up and while I felt VERY overwhelmed, it was a good learning experience, thanks to his pointing and repetition. It's for these people that I am also very thankful.
Recently, I've been going through a lot of difficulty in grasping the enormity of this transformation of self. It's hard to imagine that everything can be susceptible to change, but here it is. Nothing has been made exempt, and so it has been incredibly trying, while for the most part extremely satisfying. More on that to come. In the meantime, it's a new month and that means new challenges. It's amazing to think that by the end of this month, not only will I be home, but the year will be over. 2009 will have come and gone with big changes and big goals, some of which were met, some of which were not. What a trip it's been. More of re-capping to come, and certainly more of my South American adventure to report.
In December, I plan on giving up swearing. I do it too much too often, and it's a good goal to curb that sort of behavior. I put the odds on doing this at about 1,000:1. In the meantime, my daily task will be writing for at least a little bit every day. I brought a journal with me, and so I should be dedicating more time to writing in it than I have.
Talk to each other.
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