All posts by X Teri

I Own My Story

It’s true that my memory isn’t perfect and sometimes I exaggerate to amplify a point. But the story is mine, outlining a world I created in my imagination in response to the people, places, things and thoughts around me.

If you going to visit it, please remember that if you want to play a good character, you can’t be an ass and expect a starring role. I’ll try to minimize your story arc if you’re misbehaving but no promises in this regard can be made or kept.

I’ve used variations of the above for several years, as people struggled against my right to express the content of my life, even if I sometimes made errors in its telling.

When I started walking frequently, I downloaded an insane number of TED talks and similarly-structured audio files. I was walking near one of my favorite spots listening to my second TED talk of the day when Anne Lamott’s segment started.

“You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

 

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This quote reverberated through my head. It conveyed almost exactly the sentiment I’d felt for years. It’s one thing to know something – and another when a bona fide voice of authority echoes your idea.

Now, I use Anne’s quote instead of my own original sentiment. Because I’m not the one who said these exact words, I can use them like a spear. Coming from someone who can be googled somehow grants the same idea some clout contrasted against my attempt.

So many people are reluctant to tell their stories. Some are worried they lack the ability to be honest and fair, while others are concerned that they lack the language skills to avoid being mocked. It’s a risk to tell a story, especially one which reveals a part of yourself to the world. It’s a risk not to, as well.

In my own world, I tend to be aware of not identifying everyone in my stories. It gives them the opportunity to continue on with their lives without my imperfect alterations. There are times, though, when I feel it necessary to describe people by name, relation or occupation. I hope it’s never out of malice but even I know that our minds behave in ways we don’t always recognize honestly.

I would hope that anyone reading this would welcome the chance to share their lives with those around them. Allowing people to experience our thoughts and lives is one of the only ways to experience a full life.

The stories are ours to share, for good, bad, or ugly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This Isn’t Here

 

 

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Set aside a couple of minutes, please.

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I had a dream. I was walking down Emma Street and realized that the street had been renamed to “Calle Emma.” And it made me laugh. Things change whether people do or not. Why shouldn’t the current population change things? Just ask Native Americans. Thousands of years of history were erased by the arrival of Europeans. Your opinion will be taken into consideration. Or not.

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I heard that my psychiatrist was a bit of a publicity hound but her new hybrid R&B CD / cookbook titled “Shrink Rap” was a bit too far.

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Not one to boast but if everyone could bust a move like me we’d need a huge bottle of super glue for Xmas.

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My new gym/church is going to be named “Absolution.”

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As the indentured wordsmith of the family, I was asked to write an impromptu poem for my mother-in-law Julia today…

A No-Thanks-Given Poem

Pants unbuttoned, stomachs distended…
we’re gonna eat more
than nature intended
platters adorn the counters
platters carpeting the floor
and yet, there sits frowning Julia,
questioning…
“Is there more?”

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As for the extra bedroom my sister-in-law Darla has, I’m pretty sure that parts of “The Conjuring” and all of “Annabelle” were filmed in here. #thanksgivingwandering

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I’m an enabler. My wife Dawn asked me to pick her up a box of coffee nips from Walgreens. I had to pick up another round of pictures for my mammoth xmas project. I bought every box they had. The clerk just laughed.

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It is strange how history ignores certain pioneers, especially when they have unusual or provocative names. Take the first duo to traverse the Mississippi: Lewd & Clark

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I knew the family reputation of having tough, mean women must be true because their marriage counselor was also a hostage negotiator.

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Things always look different to those doing something. You’re going to be watched, it’s true – and probably judged, so why not go ahead and do what it is you need to anyway?

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Kodak & Insurance moment brought to you by the guy sitting on the roof of his house, lap a tangle of Christmas lights, and drinking Keystone beer. I don’t know how he got up there without a ladder, how the biting wind wasn’t killing him, or how Keystone gets away with not putting a poison label on its products. This moment made waiting until later in the day to take a walk worth it. No, Cousin Eddie Johnson was nowhere in sight.

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Walton Arts Center hasn’t changed. Making memories with Acrobats of China. Dawn told me to take a good picture.

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Life-Win: when a multi-million dollar company writes you about your personalized gift and inquires “Are you sure you want THAT printed on your gift?”

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Perhaps he’s no racist, but I just saw where the band Foreigner was detained at the airport.

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Perhaps it’s a tired joke, but I just heard a lady praise someone for having a photogenic memory. The upshot is that the guy in question is dumber than a Grey’s Anatomy script – and so uncomely that even dogs won’t bite him.

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Cliche Advances: While there is no “I” in ‘team,’ there is an “I” in ‘idiot.’

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Nonsensical yet profoundly unimportant news: His name was Giraffe. Regrettably, he died from rubber-necking on the interstate.

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A Funny Burial Anecdote

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This is a truish story and names have been changed to confuse the guilty.

A famous writer, an author of at least 20 books, died in Springdale a few days ago. He was well-known for his sense of humor and dry wit. At my recommendation, his family went to a funeral home of which I speak highly. Although he usually doesn’t do so, the funeral director Scott offered to view potential cemetery plots with the family, even though he hadn’t yet met them and didn’t know the recently deceased. His dedication to customer service is quite legendary. I doubt he would have helped me had he not owed me a huge favor – but that’s a story for another day.

The family chose to visit Bluff Cemetery in Springdale. The place is known for its beauty and proximity to the creek running through downtown. Scott pulled in behind the new Cadillac the family of the deceased arrived in. The Springdale Parks worker had already arrived in a white pickup, his camera and clipboard in hand.

After the family exited the car and straightened their respective ties and dresses, Scott accompanied them to the periphery of the cemetery, situated below the overhanging trees. It was certainly a beautiful spot.

To make small talk, Scott nervously asked the family about the deceased. “What did your loved one do for a living?” he asked.

The youngest son answered, “Our dad was a famous writer. You’ve never heard of him?” He seemed surprised. “In fact, all of us are writers.”

“No, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know him or know of him. I read a lot, though.” Scott wasn’t sure what else to say.

The parks employee pointed out the available spots and mentioned that the price was adjusted, based on the reduced size of the plots. “We can dig with much more accuracy than we once could,” he added.

After a moment of silence, the youngest daughter looked along the edge of the cemetery where there were remaining spots available, seemingly measuring their size by her careful steps. She immediately started shaking her head.

“This simply won’t do. Not at all. Dad was too important of a writer to tolerate this kind of mistake.” She seemed agitated.

“How so?” Scott immediately asked.

“The plot’s too thin!” The daughter said, and then laughed loudly.

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PS Writers always get the last laugh.

The Gift of “Rectify”

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“It’s the beauty that hurts the most, not the ugly.” – Daniel

As a reader and lover of language, I sit in satisfied wonder after watching “Rectify.” It’s been said by many that it was the best show that no one was watching. Rarely do characters come so vivaciously to life, murmuring and whispering with such glib eloquence. Listening to the people in this show move through complicated lives in this show is the closest I’ve ever come to experiencing visuals as if they were a novel. Several times in the past, I’ve read of the love and admiration of this show and renewed my self-promise to immerse myself. Not until the show was finishing its run, however, did I stop gazing at it on my to-do list and start down the intricate road it travels. I regret not having been a part of it since it first aired but I will make amends by recommending it to anyone with a discerning taste for depth.

If you have the opportunity, please visit Netflix and give this treasure of a show an open door in your life. You won’t regret it, even if the pace seems to be too languid for you at the beginning. Oddly, if you describe yourself as an avid reader, I’m convinced that this show will be an immediate friend to your life.

The intelligence of this show astounds me. The people inhabiting the world it paints for us trip and fall, even as they see the obstacles in front of them. Countless times I watched the inevitable pain surprise them, only to see a parallel to my own life. The mirror it smashes into my face catches all the sublime idiocy of the steps we all take, regardless of the severity of circumstance.

From the show’s beginning, Daniel emerges from prison and instead of railing against the injustice, he perplexes everyone with a deeply insightful commentary on the world. I’ve had trouble explaining to people exactly what about the show was so captivating. “It’s about a man who is released from prison after almost 2 decades.” If that’s the case, “Sling Blade” is just a movie about an eccentric older man being let out of psychiatric care in the South. The particulars aren’t what brings forth the revelations: it’s the humanity inherent in so many scenes of this show.

It’s difficult for me to pull back from my enthusiasm for this show; it’s likely I’ve over-sold it people. Something about it forcefully reminds me of the wild emotion I felt the first time I finished “The Prince of Tides” and heard the words, “Lowenstein, Lowenstein, Lowenstein” reverberate in my mind.

If you need a gift for yourself, I recommend that you find a quiet moment to step away from your real life, sit down, and give “Rectify” the chance it deserves to unfold the way television should be revealed. It avoids the mega-dose of plot twists that doom so many potentially great tv shows or movies. Don’t let the initial premise of a condemned man’s unexpected release from prison trick you into thinking you understand what this show is about. The story is about us, individually and collectively, careening around the backdrop of what it means to be human.

The show itself is a crescendo of discovery as the seasons reveal themselves. By the end of season 4, you will find yourself under the gossamer veil of nostalgia, for a world you would love to live in. As the show ends, you will find yourself feeling restless for unknown highways and side roads, all hopefully leading to places where people like Daniel Holden might feel at home. (And allow us a moment to sit in their presence.)

If you are lucky, it will reveal glimpses of your own self that you’ve kept hidden slightly around the corner.

“Finding peace in the not knowing seems strangely more righteous than the peace that comes from knowing.” – Daniel

 

 

Ponder: The Lesson of Karl

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I think we should adopt the word “Karl” as a code word to indicate that we love someone deeply, even as we live flawed lives. Whether we like to admit it or not, even when we are comfortable with people, ‘love’ is a catch in our throats, often reluctant to escape.

“Sling Blade” is an iconic movie. Each time I watch it, I see it from a different point of view, and not only because I am not quite the same person as the last time I watched it. As tragic as it is, it is evocative of a life of connections that I would cherish.


After Doyle kicks Karl out of the house, Linda drives up as Karl is shuffling away. “You light him up in his eyes, I’ve seen it. He wouldn’t know what to do without ye….” Karl tells Linda, referring to her son Frank. Linda calls out, “Karl?” as he leaves.

When Karl leaves Frank his books, the sum total of everything he holds to be valuable in life; inside is a bookmark with the words “You will be happy” written on it. As Karl walks away, Frank turns to the trees and shouts, “Karl?”

Karl knocks on Vaughan’s door and hands him all the money he has in the world when the door opens. He tells Vaughan that he would be a good daddy to Frank and that he won’t be judged for who he is. “That boy lives inside of his own heart. It’s an awful big place….” Karl says and ambles away. Vaughan calls out, “Karl?”

Of course, Doyle looks up off-screen at Karl as he raises the sharpened lawnmower blade to kill him: “Karl?” Doyle asks, after talking calmly with Karl about being killed by him.

The last spoken word in the movie by Doyle, Vaughan, Frank, and Linda is the same: “Karl…?”

As broken as Karl’s life was, he managed to touch each of those people’s souls by his words and presence. In response, each one was powerless to respond at the same level with Karl.

I think we should agree to use “Karl?” as a code word in our daily lives. Using it would be a signal that conveys our deep understanding of who and what the person with whom we are speaking means to us.

Some words are like knives passing our lips, even when coated with the warmest regard and sincerity.

Honesty is a sharp weapon and truth is a hard master. Even in love.

“Karl,” I whisper to you all.

Earwax Candle Kit For Christmas

 

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These fun PrankPack boxes are awesome. I bought a few this year to wow friends and family. This “Create Your Own Earwax Candle Kit” is going to be a surprise for my mother-in-law.

She loves being pranked and nothing says “I cherish you” like a horrified smirk followed by a laugh. (She can’t see this post…)

This kit allegedly comes with an earwax collection hat and a collection reservoir for your ounces of nightly earwax.

I wonder if such a candle, were it possible to produce one, might waft a lightly-scented aroma of yuletide inner ear around the house for Christmas?

 

The company offers several styles. At least one of them will make you laugh. I promise.

P.S. If you want to order your own for a future bit of fun, here is the website:

PrankPack Website

Social Media Is Us

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Another social media friend posted about the depressing content of his or her social media. There are only two possibilities: he or she is not using the tools at hand to curate it or their friends, follows and likes are less than stellar. There is no reasonable way that social media, containing billions of people and pages, all representing every corner of the world, are the culprits in the equation. Social media is a prism which reflects the world of users, the same world that already exists. It might not be the world we desire, but it’s the one which greets us and gives both our joy and sadness.

The world might be spinning off its axis, but it is the only one we have. Generations have come and gone, each sure of its superiority over the last.

Social media is us, warts and all, smiles and frowns, fake news and authentic, gossip and compassion. Our aversion to it reflects more toward our self-recognition as a species than to the means by which we communicate.

Social media and the internet present new challenges, yet they also present new opportunities, especially in regards to engaging with one another.

It’s bizarre to me that two people can use the same technology and have disparate experiences. Social media can be a buffet of 10 million similar tv channels – or it can be a room with 10 million doors and windows, all of which can be opened by you on a whim, all leading to new worlds.

If you have friends who don’t share your values, sense of humor or worldview, be friends with them in the world instead of social media. Or hide their posts. If you don’t engage with them, at some point you are going to need to ask why you need to keep their names on a list in social media. You can still go to reunions, work, or lunch, – and hug and smile warmly when you encounter one another in a live social space. People fighting this cause themselves a tremendous amount of needless frustration in life. Friends lists are one of the new ways to hoard in our modern world.

If you find yourself getting upset or angry at what friends posts, hide their posts if you can’t unfriend or unfollow them. It’s your social media experience so take the time to make it your own.

If you are following news sites and pages which fill you with something other than interest, wonder, creativity, or inspiration, stop following them. Click “unfollow,” or “show less.” Unlike them. Bookmark them and visit them when the mood strikes, actively, instead of passively. Seeing content only when you are interested or curious keeps both you and the content fresher.

There is no danger of an echo chamber, no more than in your real life. All the tools are the same, within reach, and easy to use. If you live a full life, you are going to be exposed to a variety of languages, cultures, and ideas, whether you have a cellphone or social media.

In the same way that it almost impossible for me to ever get bored, I can’t fathom how anyone with access to the largest communication and knowledge resource ever created can feel anything except wonder. If it bores you, I promise you that you are doing it wrong.

I’ve always shared; not pictures and stories which only require a click, but words, anecdotes and parts of myself. Much of it is probably tripe to you – but that’s how it is in the world, too. I’ve seen so many eyerolls in response to my stories or comments that I started to believe almost everyone had an undiagnosed ophthalmological condition. If 1 in 10 people engaged like I do, we’d either be woefully tedious or richly engaged.

As a small part of this social media project we all live in, I wonder how you can read through the mountain of craziness I’ve produced and come up for air with a “meh.”

The internet and its biggest component social media is a box. Whether it is to be filled with a surprise of daily delights or duty and drudgery depends on you.

Stop looking at the things which make you lesser. Strike that. Stop focusing on those things. Look toward those things which remind you of what it means to be alive and creative.