The Womb

In a book or movie a seemingly insignificant word or phrase can become the representation of the whole text.  In The Treasure of the Sierra Madre the bandito says, “Badges, we don’t need no stinkin’ badges.” The movie is more than an hour in length and almost anyone familiar with it remembers this line.  In Gone with the Wind Rhett Butler says, “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn” and everyone remembers it.  Or hear a bell tinkle at Christmas and someone will say, “An angel just got his wings” from It’s a Wonderful Life.

My dailies are comprised of thirty-eight assertions varying in length from a few words to more than twenty.  There is one, down near the end that is innocuous but probably the most significant in a philosophical sense.   There are others that are more didactic, more prescriptive, more objective, more cautionary, more commanding, more prophetic but none more philosophical, "Being the womb of Essence, I am humble."  

There’s a reason for this and it’s because none of the others recognize the dichotomy that exists between Master and Brain-body.  Considering that there is an entity that exists in the body but is not of the body is difficult and this is what this particular daily brings to mind when it is said.

There is one time when this bipartition can be experienced, albeit briefly, and that is just before the Brain-body goes to sleep, i.e. first state.  At this point, if one is careful and aware, you can get a glimpse of that “other” part, Master.  He is mute and in his own way moves the being toward permanence.  The only time he can be experienced is at this juncture of crossing into first state, or what we commonly refer to as sleep.  Aside: Sleep has been explored in a previous entry.

 It is important for me to recognize that all of my thoughts are products of the brain, all of my sensations and reactions to them are primarily of the body.  All of my memories, imagining, reasoning, and decision making are of the brain.  The only time I can even approach experiencing the other component of my being is when all is completely still; this occurs most frequently when I am about to slip into first state.  And it is difficult to differentiate between imagined and “real” experience in this regard.

At no time does/has Master said anything yet he makes his presence felt all throughout the day/ lifetime comprised of all the days that the brain-body is alive.   He has a purpose, an agenda, but “I” am not privy to it; I know when I am acting in a way that does not agree with it because things don’t go well.

There have been times that I felt punished for behaving this way or that and the behaviors causing the problem were not necessarily what would normally be considered “bad” behaviors.  I know when I am acting in accordance with his agenda because all goes swimmingly; and this is not always what would be considered “good” behavior.

From my limited vantage point I would conclude that Master is developing and this development is facilitated by experiences of the brain-body at his disposal.   Yet there are other forces felt by the brain-body, urges, appetites, emotional responses to experiences especially those involving others, issues about the safety and security of the brain-body, issues about procreation, issues of maintenance, and issues of getting along in society.

All of these extraneous needs have to be addressed by the brain-body but fundamentally Master has needs to be met in order for him to reach permanency.  Yet, it would seem that there is a realization that if for some reason his needs aren’t met it’s okay because he has the choice of continuing his quest in a subsequent existence.

It may be vanity but my thinking is that the Master in me is enjoying development along whatever lines he desires and has been for some years now.  There is a certain physical equilibrium and mental peace that is enjoyed day in and day out which can only come from conforming to his desires.  There have been other periods in this lifetime where things were out of kilter with what were probably his desires and there were physical and psychic problems associated with those periods of time which went away when the behaviors changed.

It is difficult to see a reflection of this visage without identifying with it; even more difficult to see a reflection and realize that this is one aspect of my being, and an important one but not the only one.  Our eyes are positioned such that we cannot see ourselves is a clue to the situation that we are in.  It wasn’t until the camera that we were able to see a true image and it won’t be until holographic technology is perfected that we will see a true three dimensional image of ourselves.

If all of this is my imagination, then I’ll die and that will be the end of it but at the very least I will have had an interesting time of it on the way as I stay open to other possibilities.  In the meantime I will continue think about it and continue to seek Master, perhaps meet him.  Not out of the question because I don’t know.

There are many religions in the world and some espouse similar thoughts to these; my inherent distrust of organized religion, and those who think they understand it and consequently preach it, precludes me from glomming on to any of them.  Yet there are some interesting albeit obscure references to that of which I am writing.  One has to be sensitive to these ideas and then see how they creep out of the woodwork when allowed to do so.

But most important, one must think about it and continue to do so without becoming dogmatic.  Where am I?  I am here.  I want to go there.  Where is there?

Back to the Course

The golf course is an unforgiving place.  The walk today was an exceptional experience for me: four pars, 3 bogeys, and 2 doubles for a nine-hole total of 43.  Today I joined up with two other fellows on number four after sinking a long putt on number three for a par.  One of them, a few holes later, said that I seemed to be an expert on getting up and down because I was hitting my irons so well from the fairway.  I said, “Thank you.”

As I played, and walked, I was taken up with thoughts about my moving center, my intellectual center, and the interplay between them.  It was an interesting afternoon.  I’ll get into more of that later but now I want to write a little bit about the eyes.

Often we talk about vision in a allegorical sense; what is your vision? How do you see it? What is the vision of the company? All of these and other references to vision impart a much different meaning to it than seeing with the eyes.

Probably because the eyes are such a major sense when compared to the other four senses, it is only natural to impart to them more importance, to give them a more prominent place in our expression of thoughts.  A diagram of the senses with each of the sensors given a proportional size to its importance doesn’t even show the eyes because they would be disproportionately large in comparison.

Yet when one strips away the myth, the allegory, and the literary references, the eyes are one of the five senses with which we experience the present in which we are involved – now, and only now.  We can’t experience the past or the future with our senses; for that we use our memory and imagination.  These two are often melded into one another as imagination affects memory when we try to remember, and memory influences imagination as we project into the future.

The eyes are a tool of the brain-body and they occupy a unique position on/in it.  They are placed on the front of the head, only about three inches apart, and yet they are able to accurately gauge distances and relative movement of objects anywhere from a few inches to several miles away.  Not only that but they can do this in bright sunlight and in starlight.  But they cannot see the face in which they are set without the aid of a mirror, which reverses left and right unless compound mirrors are used, or by recording, photographic or digital images; still or moving.

Today I became aware that I was able to see all around, up and down, back and forth and almost all of my body, except my face.  The question came to mind, “Is this a message, is there meaning to this?”

The design would indicate that it is not important to see the features of one’s face.  Vanity instills in us a desire to see same, but apparently it is not/ was not deemed important enough to make allowances for doing so without the aid of special equipment.

Yet everyone else around us can see our face.  And because their vision is so acute, honed by thousands of years of evolution and fine tuned by a lifetime of experience, they are able to see in our face the emotion that is transiting our brain at that instant.  Only the skilled actor can control of the countenance and either hide or display a particular emotion; and even then they are wont to give it away.

In playing golf, the eyes are a tool used by the personae of primarily the moving center to determine what motion and to what degree that motion has to be delivered.  They are used by personae of the intellectual center to analyze the situation ahead of time to set it up properly and afterwards to provide feedback on results.  The disciplined golfer does not allow other personae to interrupt this process.

It was my work for today, for the most part, there were struggles among personae; there were physical constraints due to age and ability, there were distractions but, by and large, they were kept to a minimum and the result was a score of 43.

It was an experiment that was successful.  It was premeditated and prescribed; it was called to mind every time the ball was addressed to be hit by whatever club including the putter.  The results speak for themselves and it is worth another attempt.

There is memory associated with each of the major centers of the brain-body; intellectual recalls facts and formulae, emotional recalls situational feelings, social recalls how best to deal with different individuals, instinctive recalls what to do in a threatening situation, sexual recalls how to act/react for procreation, and the moving center recalls what to do to produce a specific movement.

This moving memory, often called muscle memory, is what allows us to ride a bike after not doing it for forty years,  to pick up right where we left off the last time we danced, rode, swam, skated, skied, hiked, ran,-- you name it.

On the other hand, developing moving memory is time consuming and often frustrating.  Recall how often you were unsuccessful in executing a desired moving activity until the technique was finally mastered.

This moving memory exists in many unsuspected forms.  Stair climbing—try a set of stairs that doesn’t have an eight-inch riser; sitting—sit down on a bench that is less than the normal height; yet one can unerringly put his hand on the soap in the soap dish in the shower with his eyes closed, face lathered with shampoo, and water running all over him.

The goal is to allow this moving memory to take over in making a move after realizing that the appropriate work has been done to allow it.  When putting, the last thing I think is, “There’s the hole, there’s the ball; put the ball in the hole,” then I quiet all but my moving golf persona for the putt.  The result is often a rattling in the cup or a tap-in.

Prose, Poetry, and Script

Here we are in the middle of June, the first 100 blog posts have been published in three volumes entitled “Notes on Life and Living” and the three readers have given them rave reviews.  (They are available for $20 each if anyone is interested/ that amount just does cover the cost so I’m not ripping anyone off.)  Now I have prepared 18 philosophical poems about the same subject, As I Live My Life, and will print a limited number of them in a booklet.

Poems in this form are enjoyable to write; they are of a structure that I invented for conveying more or less esoteric thoughts.  The general form is two sets of two lines each of assertion, four lines of exposition, two more sets of two lines each of expansion, four lines of erudition, two lines of advice, and a one line conclusion.  It works for me and I’m the poet.

The objective of writing scripts for plays and movies hasn’t been abandoned; I keep talking about it but haven’t put pen to paper, finger to keypad yet.  The one play I wrote was pretty good, it didn’t go any further than an edited first draft so no one has taken it apart for me to rewrite.  I did it in a playwriting class and defended it fairly well; the professor thought I showed promise.

It seems to me that script writing almost has to be a collaborative effort, at least at first.  This assertion is borne out by famous play writes and the multiple credits on screenplays that I see in movies.  That a single individual can write a script from start to finish without collaboration would mean that the writer is a genius or has had the benefit of having done it with others many times before and knows what works and what doesn’t.

One of my Whodunnit buddies has written three scripts to date and I was lucky enough to perform in one of them.  They held water for the genre and audiences like them.  The Whodunnit process requires collaboration; an author can write what he/she thinks will work and then it is reviewed by objective third parties, has a dramatic reading, and finally goes into rehearsal.  Problems can be discovered anywhere along the way and rewriting is required time and again.

The ideal of a writer in his garret turning out finished plays is just that, no relation to reality.  In truth, the script is hammered over and over again until it takes the shape that will stand performance.  I doubt that the Whodunnit process is unique.

When talking to the co-author/director of my most recent movie appearance, he allowed that the script we used was the back story to the original script idea, which was found to be too ephemeral  for performance.  Much work went into the original concept such that when the back story became the script, it was finished in short order but not, however, without getting a paid professional to review it before production started.

This script, for a feature length movie, was approximately 80 pages and there were a lot of stage directions included.  Having observed this one closely because I was in it, I have to assume that it is fairly close to the “real deal.”  With more experienced actors, directors, and cinematographers, I can understand shorter scripts.  In this case the writers wanted the story told a certain way and, since one was also directing, that’s the way it was made.

The same was true of Atomic Bombers, a play I was in earlier this year.  The director was the author about 25 years earlier and he admitted that the way he directed it was a slightly different take on the story from the perspective of today’s post 9/11 world.  I’m sure the nuances were subtle because the script was the same original script used for the first production back then.

I am registered for a class in script analysis that should help me in this quest for putting my thoughts on stage.  The fact that I’m not a crusader, idealist, or activist may work against me but I am a philosopher and as long as I keep to my field of life and living and present my characters as being involved in that, I just may be able to pull this off.  The format could be Whodunnit, could be classical, could be comedy, and could be soap opera; they all will work because they all reflect life and living.

There is such a condensation of expression via words from prose to poetry, and such an expansion of expression when the ideas are put into play because the audience becomes emotionally involved without a written page.  This becomes my reason for doing it.  I’ve seen the economy of words that poetry allows, I’ve seen the complete expression that prose allows, and I’ve seen the way actors using the same script can interpret it differently but still faithfully.

The question that is begged is why?  Why would a reader bother to read others’ thoughts?  Why would an audience sit through 90 minutes of a whole lot of others’ ideas on a how a situation could be portrayed?  The answer is for entertainment, for the escape of not having to come up with the idea but rather have the idea presented to them to be enjoyed, accepted, or rejected.

Each reader or audience member has a different angle from which he/she is experiencing the work.  Some are on the top level of what is said and done; others are concerned with how it is said and/or done; and still others are commenting on the technique that the production company, in all the aspects of it, used to create the desired effect, and there are still other aspects of a production upon which people concentrate.  When writing prose, poetry, or script one cannot take all these things into account.  A good author brings a story, which allows each to enjoy along his own line of analysis and thus be entertained.

Moving on to Success

This is going to be an interesting item.  I just finished editing the final installments of the first 100 blog entries and have published them in booklet form; three parts that cover the gambit.  All the while I was editing them; I found the thoughts still interesting to me but editing was necessary to make them more cogent and possibly less personal; by that I mean I took out references to people by name.

The entries accomplished their intended purpose, i.e. to help me work through some uncertainty and put some structure to my thinking.  The one thing that kept coming through to me was my uncertainty.  Often the entries were an attempt to explore an idea and they came off as being somewhat timid, somewhat fearful, somewhat uncertain, overly critical of me, and generally namby-pamby.

The answer to this criticism is, “Yes;” that was the whole purpose of the entries in the first place.  The thoughts that produced them came out of those very feelings and the only way to deal with them was to explore them in writing and confront them.  So, if I sit here now and woe the fact that I was honestly expressing my feelings, I would negate the process and repress my feelings; neither of which is productive.  “Expressing my feelings forthrightly, I am assertive.”

In an effort to be objective, however, I want to express something that also came through the writing.  Often I would write about a feeling of inferiority, or disadvantage, or losing, or being less than a full fledged citizen of the world but upon objectively examining those feelings I could see that these were exaggerations of the truth.  Almost like self-pity in a way, giving in to feelings that are only marginally true but dwelling on them in order to examine them.  The examination proved constructive and the feelings abated to their proper insignificance.

The best analogy that can be made is having an irritating hangnail, one keeps toying with it until he grips it and pulls it off, only to wince in pain.  Now the pain is insignificant but if one dwells on it, it becomes an object of obsession until one looks up and sees that there are indeed many more important matters with which to deal than this pesky little problem.

The utility of the entries was understood at the time they were made but a more significant appreciation of them came about as a result of editing them for publication.  Some of the notes, especially surrounding mom’s death, were especially thought provoking after the fact.  The journey to decision about acting was likewise illuminating.  I didn’t realize how significant that was until later.

Reading my reluctance to jump into agency, head shots, auditions, and the business of acting in general was surprising to me.  From the vantage point of being here now and looking back, I’d forgotten the mental barriers that were in place to get going on it.  They didn’t stop me nor even slow me down but they were there just the same.  One reading the entries might get the opinion that there was a lot of trepidation, even to the point of causing the effort to not be made.  No, it wasn’t that way at all; the efforts were made in spite of it all.

It may have been pointed out during the course of writing that when a disadvantage was identified, almost every time the opposite of it was quickly identified and it was seen to be false.  This has been a hallmark of my actions; push on according to plan.

Often my writing would spawn a course of action that would result in a plan.  The planning process that is contained in Leadership Training for Managers is one of many effective planning processes and one that has been used often to exceptional results. 

Much of what is being written here is to get the point across that however dire the situation seemed to have been in the writings, the option to sit back and do nothing was never taken.  The opposite is true, whenever a situation seemed to be dire, a desired end result would be stated and plans to achieve it put in place, either a formal, written plan or an item in the Planning Evolution file but always some goal, strategy, and plan to alleviate the situation.

All of this is interesting but there is another avenue of thought that I want to traverse.  It has to do with attitude, confidence, and winning.

Attitude is an advanced concept.  Some motivational types have been heard to say, “The only thing you can control is your attitude; so maintain an attitude that supports your success.”  This is all well and good but it is not such a simple thing to do.  One can delude oneself into thinking he/she has an attitude of confidence and success but an independent observer sees the performance for what it is.

I’ve talked about this before in these writings and have adopted the philosophy of having a good recital and an objective report.  In other words, work on my performance of skills to constantly improve them and 

avoid talking about it except to modestly report factual accomplishments.

It is too easy to fall into the trap of talking a good game but not having same.  Spectators, fans of sports, do it all the time; they vicariously participate in the sport and begin to identify with the actual competitors.

One works to experience the feeling of confidence, even anticipation of success,  that descends on a player when he is in the flow of his game.  It allows the continuation of successful performance: stage acting, competitive golf, competitive pool, or judged performance on a horse.  This feeling only comes from repeating the activity in real life, on stage, on the course, at the table, and in the arena, and building on successful experiences to the point that the feeling happens.  You know it when it does.

Omniscience and Us

The difference between a good and bad haircut is two weeks.  Dutch the barber in Newport News would say, “That ought to hold you until you can find a real barber.”  Both of these are brought to mind today because I got a haircut and by golly it is cut.  She did a good job, trimmed my mustache as well, but I think she took a little too much off the top and it will be a while before it lies back the way it normally does.

That isn’t important, as a matter of fact almost nothing is and that’s one of the advantages of this time in my life.  I have one obligation to others and that is a Friday LTM in Lexington and that’s it.  I kind of like it this way.  I can pursue my endeavors to my heart’s content, handle requests as they come in, plan and execute the larger projects, and just do whatever I want during the day.

Today was a good example; I got a haircut this morning, talked to my daughter for a while, ate a little lunch, the chicken salad was good, then went to the golf course and played nine holes, came home to relax but had plenty of energy so I cut the grass, greeted the roofers who repaired a blown shingle, made a great sauce to go with the leftover calf’s liver, watched some news on TV and now I’m writing this blog.  None of this was planned, some of it listed but none of it planned. 

Tonight before we go to bed I’ll bring in the plants we bought yesterday, another spontaneous activity when we got fed up with basketball and the one-sided UK v. Baylor game.  We just upped and went to Lowe’s and got gardening supplies, which were on the list, and plants for the pots and flower boxes that weren’t.

 I note this because just recently I was decrying the fact that there is no spontaneity in my life.  As usual whenever I recognize or comment on a condition, a bunch of contradictions come out of the woodwork

I have edited the second of three volumes of Notes on Life and Living which will total about 650 pages.  I am not sure about printing these last two volumes because of the cost involved and the fact that even a minimum quantity of twenty-five  go undistributed.  I sent one each to my three children and heard scant little about them but then I don’t expect to hear anything.  I just want them to have the books because it is my thinking and when I’m dead that’s all they’ll have.

The booklet The Linas in Troy Missouri has enjoyed a little popularity on line and the family that received copies all commented positively about it.  My dad left almost no written records behind except for one little sentence in a diary that he started and stopped after one entry.  It was a significant entry because he pinpointed the date that his parents moved to Troy Missouri as April 1, 1932.

An odd thing, I don’t even know where that diary came from but just after I published the booklet it “appeared” in my bookcase, I opened it and found the entry in his handwriting.   The diary itself was a gift to him from a granddaughter but how it got to my bookshelf, in my study and why I opened it after I’d searched high and low for the date of the move is a mystery to me. 

This among many other instances of fortuitous discoveries makes me think that we are connected to omniscience and from time to time we tap into it by following our nose; or saying it another way, we tap into it by not interfering with the process of doing so.  Not that we know what that process is but all too often we “take steps” instead of following intuition.

In the early fall of 1958, downtown Saint Louis was as packed as New York City today.  I knew that two college buddies were there and I was at 8572 Oriole Ave when I decided I would go downtown and find them.  I took the Broadway streetcar, walked up Olive and found them at the McCrory’s Dime Store with absolutely no hint from them as to where they would be or when.  I walked right to them and didn’t think too much about it.

There may be a danger in this line of thinking, or maybe not.  I think the first requirement is to have a clear idea of for what one is looking, the second is patience, and the third is the detachment necessary to follow without interfering.  The failed attempts at tapping into it may be the lack of one of these requisites or that there is no omniscience and one waits forever to find whatever.  Personally, I think there is omniscience; there have been just too many instances of fortuitous coincidence in my life.

For some time I thought perhaps some spiritual benefactor was looking kindly upon me and arranging for me to find/get what I wanted.  I don’t think that’s true anymore.  No, I think it is what I’ve just been writing about.

And this is what I mean when I say organized religion is problematic; they can’t abandon at will a tenet of their belief system without causing a crisis of faith for those who bought into it.  If the RCC was to say that they were wrong, Mary wasn’t assumed into heaven, what would that do?  Or pick any other of the myths of Catholicism like the Eucharist; they made an about face on that in 1963 but there is/was a whole generation who continued to literally worship a piece of bread—perpetually.

I look around and see that almost all that I have is the result of the above omniscience, some has been obtained in more conventional ways but all of it has resulted from a clear idea of what I wanted, patience to persist in getting it, and often a certain detachment from the pursuit of it but taking necessary action when opportunity presented itself..

This same thing is true about relationships with other people but only partially.  The clear idea etc. gets to the encounter but there’s just no way of predicting what will happen after that.  This is what makes life among human beings and even other animals so interesting.

Waiting

Here we are in the first week of March and there are things on the horizon that will take place later; I find myself in a waiting mode.  Then, as I ponder that, I find one spends a lot of his lifetime waiting. It is because I plot and scheme and come up with things to do… in the future.

In younger years it wasn’t like that because most of the time was spent in the present.  When I reflect on many that I encounter at the pool hall, they too live more in the present.  As for me, now I think I am spending too much time on the future, setting things out there and then waiting for the time to elapse, doing them but feeling a little disappointed because the event doesn’t always live up to the anticipation of it.

As I look ahead to those things for which I am waiting, I can list them: riding in the early afternoon, dinner out in the early evening, a play later in the same evening, plotting and scheming on Sunday, Rotary Club meeting on Tuesday, an outing with Carola on Thursday, an LTM in Lexington on Friday and repeat. 

Then further out there is the Rolex in April, a trip to Va Beach in May, the presentation of my award in June, a trip to San Francisco in later June, then sometime later, as yet undetermined but probably in the second half of September, a trip to New York and Connecticut to see historic homes and the David Letterman show.

The key to bringing spontaneity back into my life may be to make the date but then forget about it until it’s time to go.  Make notes on calendars and then get involved with it when the time is right.  Part of the problem is my penchant for planning; I get pleasure from planning things out as far as possible.

The disquiet comes from being focused on tomorrow, next week, next month, the rest of the year and not thinking about what to do right now. And yet it derived from being at a loss for s.t. to do in the past.  But now it has evolved down to “if it isn’t on the calendar, then there isn’t anything to do.”  This has to be replaced by “ok, there are things on the calendar but there’s time now to do s.t., what will that be?” Then when the choice is made don’t second guess it.  Do the chosen and stay in the moment when doing it.

Like now, we had a spontaneous day then had dinner.  There was a lull afterwards and instead of thinking about tomorrow or the future, I decided to write these thoughts about waiting.  Just to do s.t. instead of waiting and to write about what has been on my mind for some time now.

And yet because there was no Friday night activity planned, we wind up at home with some movies to watch and you know what, that’s not so bad.  But think about it, there are activities going on all around town that are much more exciting than sitting here at home watching a movie on the big screen TV. What for example?  Almost anything that puts one in the company of others.

Observing those who come and go through the pool hall, I see that often people come in but not to play pool.  They come in to be with others; people whom they know and feel comfortable, albeit casually, in a place with which they are familiar and in which they are recognized and accepted.

This same scenario is repeated over and over in bars, restaurants, theaters, arenas, and stadiums. People go ostensibly to have a drink or a meal, or see a spectacle but mainly and fundamentally they go to be in the company of others.  Not necessarily interacting with them but being there with them.  It satisfies the social aspect of our being.

When we are not in the company of others we feel somewhat isolated.  The workplace has been a source of satisfaction for social needs but now there is a tendency for it to be the “home office” using telecommunications and a PC.  The interaction via a screen has replaced the personal interaction of the workplace and it is not the same.

I’ve participated in customer service chat sessions in order to solve a problem with a piece of equipment.  While these are rather sterile, there is a certain human touch provided by the interaction via the screen and keyboard.

Same is true when I chatted on AOL; there is a feeling of camaraderie and it goes a long way towards satisfying that social need.  It has the advantage that one can drop it whenever it gets to be too much; like walking out of a bar when it gets rowdy.

What’s being lost is interpersonal, in-person, interaction.  And when I say lost I mean that I don’t know where to go to get it besides being part of a crowd at a game, or part of the audience at the theater, or a non-interactive patron at a restaurant or bar.

In order to become that interactive patron, one has to invest some time and take some initiative in the same location.  IOW patronize the place, get comfy there, and interact with others who are in the same boat.  This requires a commitment that I’m not sure I’m willing to make. 

But if I was, I would have to pick a place to frequent, and make the time to go there.  That would require exploratory forays to see/ find one that fit.  Since it wouldn’t be for any purpose other than social interaction, it would have to feel right.  A perceived problem is alcohol and my choice not to drink it.  This would almost immediately make me an oddball in any bar.  So I suppose it would have to be another venue but what would that be? That’s a stumper.

What started out to be a discussion of waiting, turned into a lament for spontaneity, which turned into a strategy for meeting a perceived social need but with only mixed results.  Much more has to be done on this.

Rehearsal

Sitting in the Thrust Theater at UofL,  in the last row of Section A, early for rehearsal and to pass the time now and in the long interim between appearances, I’ll write in this notebook.

The pen I am using is not very good for me.  It is a Uniball Vision—fine point that has to be pushed along the line instead of rolling.  I brought it to approximate a fountain pen and it does that fairly well.  So this is my handwriting with a fountain pen; not very nice.  I’m using a few different techniques in an effort to improve it; it’s not working very well.

We are in the second last rehearsal for Atomic Bombers; it is Monday and the play opens on Wednesday.  Our dress rehearsal yesterday went from 2:30 until 9 at night.  It was the crew’s first experience with it and our first dress rehearsal in costume.  There were missing props and much confusion surrounding light and sound cues but this is to be expected on a complicated show such as this and to some extent on any show.

I spent a quiet day at home, mostly with Carola; she went out a couple of times, once to the store and again to talk to neighboring ladies when she saw them outside enjoying the mild winter we are having.  These are good omens; she is more active and taking more initiative. 

As for me, I wiled away the day, baked a cake, made the icing, prepared the mailing of my latest book (I like the sound of that) to the kids, and I found a guy on Facebook in my search for Cousin Freddie.

 This guy’s name looked like a shortening of my mother’s family name, he lives in California, his pictures look a lot like Cousin Freddie, and his wife’s name is Linda.  It made me wonder if Cousin Freddie is in some sort of witness protection program.  Later I received his phone number from another cousin and he’s in Saint Louis, just like he would ordinarily be.

Others have come into the space so I’ll put this away for now.  A parting thought, there are many moods in evidence here tonight and most are good.

Now In costume and makeup and ahead of time again; so I’ll write some more. One of the cast is in the lavatory, throwing up; the rest of the cast is suiting up.  So now what to say?  I dunno, maybe later.

It is later, the pen has been replaced because it was just too difficult to use.  We are now in that part of the play that the action is carried by everyone else except Szilard and me.  So I have a lot of time until my next cue.

We are quickly evolving into a cast that will receive the play from the director on opening night.  This surprised me when I first encountered it about five years ago; the Director said goodbye to us on Tuesday and we opened Romeo and Juliet on Wednesday.  It has similarly happened in every production since, “Lequel j’ai vu.”

My French is still mushing along.  The experience of listening to two presentations in French Friday last made me aware of just how little I know/ understand.  This doesn’t daunt me, however, I do a little s.t. every day: the CDs, the News, the reader; and although I can’t quite hear it, beyond a few words that are familiar, I am beginning to “know it.” If the opportunity were to present itself to live there a few years, I would be a speaker, listener, reader, and writer of the language. 

Aside: I was pleased that The Artist, a French film, won best actor and best picture at the Academy Awards last night.  This film and The Pursuit of Happyness, also of a French director with Will Smith, show a certain sensitivity that American film directors don't seem to have.

I called our CPA and informed him that I was changing to a different firm to prepare our business and personal tax returns.  It was an important call for me to make since it required me to ”deliver the rose.”  I suppose I’ve become somewhat inured to this over the years but it is not s.t. I like to do.  I tend to put it off until it has to be done, and then do it.  I employ this strategy for many things; more than for which it is good sometimes.  I do my duty, however, when I must.

But there is one thing about which I’ve been procrastinating and that is placing the shoe collection boxes.  It requires me to ask for s.t. for which no recompense is made to the agreeable.  This is a real problem for me.  I don’t have the right frame of mind for it because I have one of the world’s hardest noses when people want from me but at the same time I/we are very generous.  We give freely when the opportunity presents itself but rarely when s.o comes right out and asks.  I suppose it is the reverse of the Golden Rule.

(We are now on page 64 of the script and my cue is page 75)

I am going to do the boxes.  I know that once I start and do one, others will quickly be placed.  I have already placed three but there is no pattern, or system to my effort.  I’ve been responsible for placing about ten.  There are so many great places in our service area where opportunities exist and I’ll do it.  

This would be a great opportunity to do s.t. spontaneous, or at least so for me.  I’d like to make it big enough to require some planning; that seems to heighten the anticipation. There is the Sorority Convention in the third week of  April and The Rolex in the last week, followed by our Derby Party on the first Saturday in May; so it may have to be later in May.

 I’m almost on, later.