The Team

There are two ideas on my mind, one relates to team and the other to integrating into a new community, or at least the way I do/did it. I’m not sure which to pursue so I’ll do both but one at a time. But wait just a moment, the two are related so I’ll do both together.

The French word for team is équipe. Because it is a language that we are not using every day, the word has a more profound meaning than what we think of as a team. Yet our word team, when stripped of connotations, means exactly the same thing. It is a group of people with disparate skills that work together to achieve a purpose (this is the fourth definition in the Merriam Webster dictionary after three that refer to animals.)

I worked in the shipyard for twenty-two years and like to think that I achieved a certain level of success and I did by any objective measure. Yet it only dawned on me recently that I was one member of a team of more than 20,000 people who were engaged in the building of ships. This concept didn’t dawn on me when I was working there, although I did feel that way even if I didn’t realize it.

When I went to Tenneco in Houston, Case in Racine, Case at LePlessis, or even in my own business, the realization was not there nor the feeling. I just didn’t see myself that way after NNS. Things may have worked out completely differently if I had but that is conjecture.

I seem to have always felt a need to belong to something bigger than myself, to identify with it and feel like I belonged in/to it. This is a need that has been with me since I can remember; Holy Cross, Scouting, my high school, college, the fraternity, and in a very a big way NNS & DD Co. It has also been fed by delving into the communities where we have lived because the more I knew about the place and/or the organization and the more I participated in local activities, the more of an understanding I developed and the more at home I felt.

This delving in to the community was, now that I think about it, something that was taught to me by my father, much like the parents of a baby robin teach it to find worms by showing them how; he would take me with him to various places in Saint Louis and see the history of the place. We went through neighborhoods where he would recount the way it was, to museums to see the artifacts of the past, to the “backsides” of many buildings, restaurants, theaters, and businesses, even the streets on which we rode had stories of how they got thataway.

When I went to Newport News, I took with me this idea of delving into the past and did the same thing there that he’d shown me in Saint Louis. Because NN was smaller by far than St. Louis, I expanded my view to include the entire peninsula, from Williamsburg and Jamestown, to Yorktown, Poquoson, Phoebus, Old Point Comfort, and Hampton. I spent quite a bit of time crawling the area finding gems of history, especially the old houses. Wherever I am, old houses and neighborhoods hold a fascination for me.

Then when I went to Houston, perhaps because it is so much larger, I made a science out of it. I found photography studios and went to see historical photos then went to the present locations to see how they now looked. I read history and tracked down the locations of events, I talked to people to hear how the area developed. I made plans weekly to see something new and unique to the city. In four years I knew as much as anyone who’d lived there much longer but certainly not the details necessary to put it into perspective.

I repeated some of this in Racine but quickly soured on it; it just didn’t hold my interest very long. Then when we went to England and France and Europe in general, my interest was piqued. I was lucky enough to find “A Literary Guide to Paris” and tracked down many locations that were referenced by the authors who lived there, for example Victor Hugo’s elephant in Les Miserables, and the burial location in the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

I have likewise done this in Louisville. The UofL Archives are a rich storehouse of photos and I’ve driven the wheels off the car traipsing around the old City of Louisville to see neighborhoods, cinemas, parks, thoroughfares, and buildings. Like most other places I’ve been, the old houses and neighborhoods are particularly fun to see.

One reason I am drawn to acting is being a player on a team. The thing about acting that attracts me is to be in a cast, work cooperatively during rehearsals with almost no politics, developing friendships that are mutually satisfying and beneficial but not relationships that get in the way. The cast is together; we all have a script and a part to play, rehearse, perform, and then go on about our lives. The team is formed for the production and then goes away and yet there is a feeling of belonging to a larger community of performing artists who are of one mind, and on some level part of “the Theater.”

There is a history of the theater much like that of an area, an allure that includes famous actors and actresses. Yet even when associated with it in as small a way as I am, my perception of them has changed. Instead of seeing them as somehow apart from the rest of us, I see them for what they are, people engaged in a profession much the same as any other. Some are more involved in marketing efforts, taking advantage of the public persona they have. Others are quietly working at their craft to become as good at it as they can. The Leonardo Da Vinci movie at the Frazier yesterday is a good example. None of the actors was a recognized name but each was remarkably cast and performed the character with remarkable sensitivity. I am pleased to belong to it.

A Window In My Head

There is a cartoon, depicting two buzzards sitting in a tree in the desert. One is saying to the other, “Let’s just go kill something.” That is the mood I am getting into, not murderous but rather a mood to go out and precipitate some action.

This blog entry is going to be stream of consciousness; you will be hearing in your mind's ear as you read it the various and sundry thoughts that are running through my head as I write. They will be as they come up; some will be expanded, others may be simple statements, none will be edited. So here goes.
The morning is almost gone and I have done scant little of a productive nature. I’m seeing the difference between being productive and being busy, or wasting time.

The French lessons by Michael Thomas are effective, I’ll keep doing them. And the golf tips from David Leadbetter are worth their weight in strokes. Too bad the weather isn’t cooperating. I could go to the pool hall and see what, if anything is happening there. Talk about wasting time.

I’ll listen to France2 in a little while; I don’t know why I do that because I understand so little of what is said. On the other hand I get a word or two more each time I listen to it. This, the audio programs, and TV are all so passive in their nature that I don’t like them; yet I like the results they are getting for me. It’s like overhead, necessary but not productive.

There isn’t much of a future involved with this current set of activities. I didn’t go to the French Meetup last night because I wanted to stay home; yet staying home, alone, is probably the least productive thing I could have done. But OTOH, Johnny called and we had a nice chat. So that wasn’t so bad after all.
Sure would like to get a horse.

There are a dozen things I could be doing but none of them grabs me. I’m not going to make a list of them because I’ll wind up doing them. OTOH I should make a list and do them and then they wouldn’t be hanging around like derelict bums waiting for a handout.

I was bummed out because a Rotarian didn’t get back to me; then he did and when I looked at the calendar it was within a day of my message to him. I just don’t have enough on my plate. But if it ain’t acting, riding, pool, or golf, then I’m not in the mood. But there are a lot of other things on my Endeavors list and I could do any of them, it’s just that the big four are what I really want to do.

I need to memorize the Brother Orchid monolog. That’s a good one for a serious minute and my Guinness Book of Records is fine for the comedy minute.

If I had a horse I’d have to go take care of it; that has been a long standing strategy of mine, get an animal that requires care to stay active.

I suppose if I knew what to do I could stay busy on any and all of my endeavors but a horse would give back; in their own way they do. All of my endeavors, at least all but a few of them don’t require me to do with others.

My dailies are likewise focused on my own behavior and desired actions /reactions with others. So my prescriptions are more self oriented than out there doing with others. And when they are, I’m reluctant to do so.

Any sphere of association takes time to develop, or at least I think it does. When a new group is approached there is a required inuring that has to take place because the first reaction of a group, most of the time, is adverse to the newcomer or at least wary.

My sister called this morning to wish us a happy anniversary; that was nice. It’s the first time she’s called me since mom died two years ago this month. Not that that means anything, she probably has other stuff on her mind. I seem to think that everything is about me; when people don’t call it’s because they don’t like me, don’t want to be around me. That’s how I feel generally. This is stupid thinking on my part but just because it’s stupid doesn’t mean I don’t do it.

I think about going to Midland Trail club house and seeing what’s going on. Well, I’ll find a bunch of guys there who all seem to know each other and who will put up a wall to prevent me from participating; or maybe it is I who puts up the wall. How do I know, it’s happened. So I immediately think it’s something that I look like, or act like, or whatever that is inscribed on my forehead.

I put a message out there for my riding buddy and she hasn’t returned it for more than a week. My conclusion is negative about me. Yet the truth is that it isn’t about me, nobody really cares about me. Now that’s a negative attitude too. It is true, however, that no one calls me; since I don’t call anyone either—you see where that puts me, right here in isolation.

Now that I think about it, this whole entry is about me but then that’s how I get off the dime and start doing again. I sit and complain to me, then do something. Most of the time I do because I feel like I have to; this isn’t always true but mostly. There are some things I do because I like to, they usually relate to my endeavors, even those beyond the big four.

Generally I’m in a foul mood. Have been for several days and I think it must be because I am not doing with others. I pursue my list of things to do but they are somewhat insignificant. Participating with others to achieve a worthy goal; that’s what I’m missing. I need a part in a play.

Another Step Down the Road

So here we are, into the month of September and I haven’t written for quite some time. About what will I write? Well, I’ve used the same strategy often in the past, sit down and start keying and we’ll see what develops.

There are several thoughts that may be worth expanding, one is career oriented and that is tempting; to say the least. Another is on life and living as we close in on older age but that is not as tempting because I don’t think my status is going to change that much for another 15 years or so; I’ve pretty much decided to let the chips fall where they may in the game of life and living unless a curable disease develops.

We just came back from our trip to California and then Las Vegas and that was after a three week sojourn in Virginia Beach, which included some high drama. These and this could lead to all kinds of trouble if I wrote about the details so I’ll just leave them alone.

Where am I at the moment vis-a-vis my chosen career of acting? I’m hanging out; not in class, not involved with a project involving others be it movie, play, or business and I don’t have a clear plan or idea of what to do next.

I believe in me. While away, the idea of being on the top team came into my thinking and I accepted it. I put myself on the “A” team, those who are privileged to be successful in what they do, how they look, and how they behave. I was then turned down for two roles and unsuccessfully auditioned for two paying spots. This doesn’t deter me but it does keep me grounded and realistic.

Then there is the sport that teaches me much about life, golf. My golf game took a turn for the better. It started with a putting strategy and that extended to all the other types of strokes, i.e. tee shots, long and short irons, pitching, and chipping. The extension wasn’t a great leap but natural. It came to me just a month or so ago, either before or during my trip to Virginia Beach and it has made the difference.

It became clear to me that I have studied the game with two superior DVD programs, lessons from professionals; have practiced untold hours and have been playing for a number of years. At one time or another I made par on every hole at Midland Trail and at Long Run Golf Courses, both of which I play regularly. All of a sudden it dawned on me that I know how to play the game except for the really arcane nuances. Yet I was approaching every shot from tee to hole-out as if it was new and different and required cognitive analysis.

The idea came to me to qualitatively examine the putt for slope and distance; take a stance, and simply say to myself, “There’s the hole, here’s the ball; put the ball in the hole,” and then make the stroke. The results were astounding. My putts either go in or get to within one or two feet of the hole. It takes a little discipline to stay calm and keep from over-analyzing the putt; a little more to remember the mantra; and a little more to look from the hole to the ball only once or at most twice after taking my stance. As faith in my previous hard work on the game increases I will make the putt with one look after taking my stance.

This is not to say that there won’t be a generous amount of time taken before addressing the ball, and another increment taken before stroking. I’m saying the look at the hole and back to the ball to hole will be once.

It must have been the next time out when I decided to extend this method to the tee shot. Here I said to myself, “There’s the target, here’s the ball. Hit the ball to the target.” The target is picked before addressing the ball and thinking about all of the other aspects of the swing; then just before the swing take another look at the target, then the ball, and then say it; then hit the ball and see the result. Without recrimination, evaluating the result and calmly requesting adjustments to be made the next time up.

All of this rests on the foundation of grip, stance, and swing characteristics; none of which is abandoned nor forgotten before making the swing. It’s just that the last thing to do is say the mantra. Sounds corny but after six weeks of it and fifteen rounds of golf and many buckets of balls on the range, the results have been most encouraging. Yet I realize it is but another step along the path.

I remember now that I was doing the same in riding. I told myself, I know how to ride, let it go. This extends into pool as well. Pool requires a lot more discipline than golf; at least I find that to be true at this point in time.

It was also used for my last management workshop when we uncovered 100 ideas for fundraising for my local Rotary club. I put the workshop together and wasted no effort in mentally rehearsing it; “I know the material and the procedure; do the workshop.” It is almost like acting, you learn the script, rehearse, and then perform spontaneously—again and again.

Now for the leap; is it possible that this will work for realizing dreams? My life experiences are such that I know how to—whatever. It is a matter of allowing the personae involved to “do it.”