The Last Post on Musings from Myopia

For reasons unrelated to anything of interest to most who might stumble across this message, I've decided I'm done with this blog. My posts may appear elsewhere, they may not. New posts will not appear here.

I appreciate the few regular visitors I had here. Thanks for making my life a little better by stopping by. I hope my comments on your blogs were equally uplifting to you.

If you want to find me, you will. And if I want to keep intruding on your life through your blogs, I will. But you won't recognize me, because this geezer has ceased to exist.

Edge

Slowly making my way away from the edge. It's a long way down.

Temporary Suspension of Cynical Disbelief

I'm a pessimist and a cynic, courtesy of a lifetime of witnessing how base and low and disingenuous people can be.

But occasionally I am moved by what I believe is a person's honesty and integrity and sheer sense of goodness. I hope my assessment of Governor (Massachusetts) Duval Patrick's speech during last night's Democratic National Convention was right. I hope I'm not suspending my cynicism and pessimism to a highly skilled actor. I hope I'm suspending those perspectives to a man who deserves my respect and regard.

I'd like to see more people like Duval Patrick in public office. If Obama is elected to the Presidency, I'm confident Duval Patrick will be offered a very important position. I hope I'm right, both about him and about his future in public service.

I don't trust most of the other people who spoke, though Lilly Ledbetter's comments were hard and from the heart. I hope Goodyear's senior executives were watching and could feel their sales plummet with each word she spoke.

Gelatin, Gelatin, Where Do You Roam?

It's later than I'd like it to be. But, I don't control time. I've often wanted to, but it's never been within my grasp. I'm sitting here in the semi-dark, wondering where all my "people" are. You know, the people who are willing to talk to me in this semi-dark, gelatinous universe. Well, apparently they're not here.

I can have my own conversations, I suppose. And I won't be so judgmental about the insanity that pours forth from my lips.

Help for Someone in Houston

This information was passed on by a fellow blogger, who knows someone who knows someone who needs blood platelet donations in Houston, Texas. If you're able to donate or pass the word, please direct people to this site. The person needing help has an aggressive form of Hodgkin's Lymphoma. Time is of the essence.

Ranchman's Chicken-Fried Steak and Fried Green Tomatoes

(I took the photo with my cell phone, hence the fuzziness--but click, anyway, to embiggen for a closer view.)

We decided to be lazy today...at least a little. We drove to Ponder, a tiny town just north of Fort Worth and just a hop, skip, and a jump from Denton. There, we had chicken-fried steak at Ranchman's Cafe. It's a fantastic little place; it has the best chicken-fried steak I've ever eaten. And one of today's specials was fried green tomatoes, which we couldn't pass up, so we savored the wonderful, artery-clogging goodness of fried food...including the steak, the tomatoes, and french fries (though my wife ordered a baked potato...they usually require you to call ahead to reserve one, but they had an extra so they served it to her).

I discovered during our visit that Bobby Flay did a show on chicken-fried steak there in 2002 and another Food Network show on grilled steak was filmed there in 2003. I haven't see either one. Doesn't matter. We've been visiting Ranchman's since 1998 or 1999 (and it's been around since 1948). It doesn't need PR to stay afloat.

Empty Office

This is my new office, before any furniture had been brought in. Later, probably much later, I'll post an "after" photo.

Off, or Out Of, My Mind

The worst of our physical office move is complete, if you don't count unpacking massive numbers of boxes whose contents are unknown and the space for which simply no longer exists. At least we all have desks, but we don't have internet connectivity and we don't have phone service. I hope those come early tomorrow.

I'm physically and mentally tired and all I want to do this morning is drink my coffee, avoid mental challenges, and get the challenges of tomorrow off my mind.

They Want to See Your Bag

Two days in a row. There's nothing in my head that's aching to make it down to the keyboard. Like yesterday, I'm more inclined to want to be a storm-chaser today than a paper-chaser. Today. Right. That means "in this lifetime."

Oh, maybe you'd be interested in my dream. I had just arrived in a U.S. airport, very, very, very late one night, from an overseas flight from I-don't-know-where. Three people were waiting for me at baggage claim, inside customs. Hundreds of bags came out, but not mine. When I reported it missing, I was asked to describe it but couldn't remember what it looked like. They asked me to draw a picture. I did, but I couldn't get the handles drawn right; they looked like whisps of paper. The attendant got angry with me and asked whether I had checked the other airlines. "No, I said, I flew in on American." Her face twisted into a scowl and she said, "It doesn't matter! It could have come in on any airline!" I wanted to get my bag, but the people who had come to get me insisted on leaving to attend a party that should have been over hours earlier. "They'll keep it open," my greeters insisted. "They want to see your bag!"

Storms

There's nothing here today. Everything I've tried to write has finally been put away into my private folder. It's not fit to share, nor do I feel a need to share it.

I'm thinking of violent storms, with thunderous explosions of sound and flashes of light bursting from low, dark, sinister, murderous clouds that twist and turn and erupt into fiendish, shrieking winds.

I want to see such a storm tonight. I want to feel its fury as its cracks of thunder shake the earth.

Fingers in Their Cases

Today, my staff got serious about packing for our impending office move. They were in overdrive, packing boxes, gathering old magazines and other innocuous paper for the recyclng center, questioning "why do we have to keep this?" at every turn. They worked hard for their pay today, a physical effort that we rarely have to exert.

As for me, I had a completely unexpected and utterly unwelcome flare-up of the long-since-gone pain of my Crohn's disease. Fortunately, it wasn't serious and the most serious pain only lasted a few hours, but it was an unhappy reminder that the damn disease is still there. I had a minor flare earlier this year. I hope this isn't a signal that it's getting its sea-legs again.

Tomorrow, I'm to be interviewed for a national television news show that virtually everyone would know if I mentioned it, but I won't because I don't want my clients nosing around on this blog. It's going to be a phone interview, which is a good thing because I don't like television interviews in the least (and I've been told I have a face for radio, anyway). The topic has gotten so old that I wish it would just disappear, but at least it keeps my client in the spotlights of the media, which for them is a good thing.

All the prospective new business that is descending on me is still not close to becoming a paying client, but I can't help but think some of them will take the plunge before long. Our new office space probably won't accommodate any more clients, nor any more staff, but I'd like to have to deal with those impossibilities before I decide I wouldn't appreciate them.

I'm putting my fingers back in their cases tonight. Enough bloggery.

L. Cohen: Joan of Arc

How could someone NOT find this exceptionally compelling poetry and music? OK, maybe you don't find it as compelling as I do, but I just don't understand why not.

Time to See Leonard Cohen in Concert

I've never seen/heard Leonard Cohen in concert. I've wanted to for at least 30 years, but have never had the chance (he doesn't get to Texas...can't imagine why, as I'm sure both his fans here would go to see him).

I just came across what is said is his current tour schedule. I can't do Bucharest in September, though I have a friend who's invited me to come with her (and her husband) to Romania to help her create a theatre school for high-school age kids. That wold be good, if it could work, because I'd have a place to stay and people I know. But the date won't work. Ditto Vienna and Prague (dates not working...I know no one I could count on for a place to stay in either place). I'd LOVE to go back to Helsinki, though, even without a place to stay, other than a swank hotel. That would be fantastic! And I'd happily follow him to Stockholm, taking the same cruise ship I took last trip from Stockholm to Helsinki and back. I wonder if I could get tickets?

09/21 Bucharest, Romania - Arcul de Trumpf
09/24 Vienna, Austria - Koncerthaus
09/27 Prague, Czech Republic - HC Sparta
09/29 Wroclaw, Poland - Hala Orbita
10/01 Warsaw, Poland - Torwar
10/04 Berlin, Germany - O2
10/07 Munich, Germany - Olympiahalle
10/10 Helsinki, Finland - Ice Hall
10/12 Gothenburg, Sweden - Falconer
10/15 Stockholm, Sweden - Golben
10/17 Copenhagen, Denmark - Forum
10/20 Brussels, Belgium - Forest National
10/23 Milan, Italy - Teatro Degli Arcimboldi
10/25 Zurich, Switzerland - Hallenstadion
10/27 Geneva, Switzerland - TBA
10/29 Frankfurt, Germany - Festhalle
10/31 Hamburg, Germany - Colorline Arena
11/02 Oberhausen, Germany - Oberhausen Arena
11/03 Rottendam, Netherlands - Ahoy
11/05 Glasgow, Scotland - Clyde
11/08 Cardiff, Wales - International Arena
11/11 Bournemouth, England - International Centre
11/13 London, England - O2 Arena
11/22 Birmingham, England - NEC
11/24 Paris, France - Olympia
11/25 Paris, France - Olympia
11/28 Brighton, England - Brighton Centre
12/01 Dublin, Ireland - The Point

A Glimpse of Humanity

I'm in one of those moods tonight in which I realize that even Republicans can be decent human beings. I know. It's hard for, me, too, but I really believe it.

If you try to put yourself in the position of someone with whom you vehemently disagree about virtually everything, you can get a different perspective on their positions. It's especially useful to force yourself to argue his or her position forcefully and rationally.

Nothing in particular brought me to this "insight" (which I experience fairly frequently, just not often enough to let it change my inate skepticism about the value of humankind); it just happens sometimes.

Approximately Now

Monday, I interview with the selection committee of an organization that is considering using a company like mine for management. I'm not counting any chickens, inasmuch as I'm one of five or six they're interviewing, including some individuals who are under consideration as staff members (versus contractor, like my company would be). But it would be a huge win for us, since we've just lost 25% of the fees from our largest client; it would make that back and then some. But it would be a huge undertaking and much work for all of us...if we get it, I hope it's worth it. I doubt that it, or any of the other "pieces of business" we're going after are "worth it." But they might help pay the bills until the obligations of the new lease have been fulfilled.

It's tiring dealing with the office move, the declining revenue, the obligatory treatment of nasty, stupid people with more respect than they deserve. And going through the motions of really caring about the business, the profession, the industry, everything that's connected to any of it. Bitter? No. Not bitter at all. Ungrateful? More so than I should be.

In my other life, the life where things that matter actually matter, I had just a few snippets of activity today. A few interactions with people who think, a few successes in getting words recorded on the keyboard, an idea or two for books or short stories or poems. And a few chances to read, again, about life in another place, another climate, in a place where people cluster to share their worship of nature.

I miss the freedoms I never recognized as freedom before they were gone. It wasn't long ago that I could have simply packed my "stuff" and moved on. Even though it seemed impossible, it was possible. Now, it's not. Not when there are leases for which I've signed my name and pledged to pay (or give everything I own if I can't). Poor me. Bite me! Poor me, indeed! Smart people know that, if you make your bed, you lay in it. I made my bed. I wasn't thinking about that when I could have changed the course of the future.

What I don't miss is a nice mixed drink...and least I won't when I go make one, which will happen approximately now.

Cantaloupe the Way I Like It

Today's breakfast started with half of a cantaloupe from which I removed the seeds.









Then, I carefully removed the "meat" from the rind and cut it into bite-sized pieces.









Then, I put a dash of salt and pepper on my bowl of cantaloupe. It brings out the taste of the cantaloupe to an unexpected crescendo.

Music I Need Tonight

From time to time, I read past blog posts and share them again. Not that anyone asks for them again (or even read them the first time), but I just want to get the message across again, from time to time:

http://musingsfrommyopia.blogspot.com/2007/02/meme-time.html

Richard Thompson and his wife wrote the song, but my favorite versions were song by Mary Elizabeth Mastroantonio and the team of Danko, Fjelds, and Andersen, none of which are availble on YouTube.com.

I may come back to revise this later if I figure out how to load music.

Here is Dimming of the Day by Mary Elizabeth Mastroantonio.

Time to Move On

I woke up early this morning, left my wife slumbering, and went to this place for a solo breakfast. I love Pete's Cafe. It's my kind of diner. The food is just OK, but the waitresses are all in their fifties or better and they're all crusty but friendly.

After breakfast, and after spending some time wading through boxes upon boxes of crap, I rented this pickup truck so I could take things over to our office's storage facility nearby. The truck is huge. Four doors. Actually very roomy and comfortable. If it weren't for the fact that it probably drinks enormous amounts of fuel, I'd consider it an option to replace The Bastard when the time comes. But no, it's too big and gas-thirsty.

This is just a piece of what's left to give to the shredding company when they visit on Wednesday. They'll shred all of our documents that need shredding (we've already taken a huge volume of paper to the recycling center...used the big black truck for that duty today). When it's all done, it will be like we just opened up our company and have very little paper to weigh us down.