The Bravo Rule

One of the reasons that so many have problems with social media is that they don’t understand the psychology of argument, much less see themselves as other people do. You’re not going to affect someone’s opinion by using a megaphone. Or harsh words. Your volume will be heard – but never absorbed. You become background noise in a world that already has sufficient static to dishearten us. People need truth to be whispered to them, preferably with a velvet glove. Addicts don’t hear love, angry people don’t respond to outreach, and most of us must approach new information sideways, like human crabs. It takes time and compassion to affect someone. I hate that I only learn many of my lessons after the class of life is already over. I know I’m wrong about so much, because as confident as I was when I was younger, it is painfully clear that my ignorance held me captive. That process surely still continues, with future days looking back at today in surprise at my slow evolution.

Words are an important component of the process. Actions are another. If you’re polarizing, you are shouting on the internet. People will tune you out. Whether you’re blind to this truth or not, you should pause and consider what kind of conversations and communication have an impact on you. I’ll bet that your vision doesn’t include anger, shouting, or aggressive insistence. Communication requires comprehension. By being tersely aggressive, you’ve short-circuited your ability to not only reach people, but also to put a little bit of ‘you’ inside their heads, much less their hearts.

If your goal is to reach a person’s heart and mind, you must take the time to share a little piece of yourself in the process. People might respond if they recognize a bit of vulnerability in your words. It’s easier to accept someone if the listener observes a bit of humanity. People respect doubt, as it provides a common avenue for us all to recognize that we don’t have all the answers.

Take the time to share yourself. Include your opinions in the process. It’s social media. If you understand the social component, you’ll wisely avoid the urge to do the equivalent of standing on the street corner shouting. You’ll get further by shaking hands, hugging, and relating to people in a way they can understand.

If you can find a way to express yourself with love, it will shine through in your words. Everyone will be richer for it.

We want to get to know other people. We feel like we already know you if your tone and tenor is not tender.

I’ll give an example: I wish we had universal health care for everyone. Life can hammer any of us to the point of bankruptcy, whether we’re lucky enough to have insurance or not. Not only would providing healthcare be cheaper per capita, but it sends the message that we are willing to collectively help one another. It is the purest practical expression of love and compassion. “Do unto others” compels me to agree that everyone should have health care equal to me. Health is the often ignored common denominator to a happier life. In the last year, I abandoned so many bad habits and transformed my life and body. Despite doing it right, my body still threw me a red flag and almost killed me. People don’t deserve the physical terrors of cancer and a list of other diseases. When I hear arguments about universal health care, I don’t hear practical arguments: I hear a lack of “do unto others.”

Don’t “@me” that you don’t know how to write. It’s not about that. It’s about openly sharing your thoughts and yourself. Language is never an impediment to sentiment and feelings that brim over and out of your heart. You will always find a way to express the best emotions. We’re hard-wired to do so. All of us.

P.S. If you want to really break free, open your closet of secrets. So much of our anguish is contained in the things we don’t want other people to know. You’ll never be authentically loved if your secrets and locked in a closet.

Love, X

Evenfall’s Arrival

Though I start by talking about a movie, these words aren’t really about the movie. Most of the things that strike a chord in us are really about recognizing something magical or true in ourselves as if we’re hearing an old truth in a new way.

“Arrival” is already a thought-provoking movie about language, time, and destiny. I loved that the main character was seeing her own bitter future and lived it anyway.

Last night, I watched “Arrival” again, this time in Spanish. I intended to spend just a few minutes immersed in it. Instead, I watched a movie that initially fascinated me in its approach to language. Ingesting it in Spanish lit my curiosity zone on fire. Before I knew it, the film was over. I curled up with my bear Azon as my cat Güino laid next to my hip, an unusual place for him. Dreams hit me like an avalanche.

All of the evenfall (another word I love) and the penumbra of the night held me captive, my dreams bursting in Spanish. In one of the best parts, my Grandma Nellie and I sat in her house on Shumard Street in Brinkley, both of us speaking only Spanish. She’d scoff at the idea of her ever speaking another tongue. But our conversation was about life and love and a little bit about salt pork and bacon for breakfast. (She was one to concern herself that no one was starving in her house – or so full we could barely walk to the front door, for that matter.) Though I knew I was dreaming, my heart sang as I sat with her. She died in 2000, at 91. It’s been a while since I dreamed about her or heard her voice so expressively in my head. Though she would have never done so in life, she asked me to drive her to Monroe to see the old haunts. As we drove, my dream shifted to early morning. As we neared Rich and Monroe, I noticed that we’d moved in time, too, traveling through an odd mix of several decades. Monroe was once again a bustling place, with farmers and passersby everywhere. We stopped at the Mercantile, once a hub of life in the small community. “I’m going to get out here if you don’t mind. I need to visit. Call me when you get home!” she said, always one to insist that we let her know we’d arrived at home alive. “If I’m dead on the roadside, how will I call you?” I asked her. It was an old joke that I loved telling her.

When Grandma exited the car and shut the door, I woke up. A few tears pooled in my eyes. It was 12:15 a.m. I felt like I’d lived a year in the dream. Güino was still next to me, his body heat oddly comforting.

This morning, I wandered around the apartment, my brain still in a slight fog, listening to my internal voice whisper to me in Spanish.

Even though I did so inexpertly, I attempted to colorize a picture of her and my Aunt Betty. I love that it’s not complete; it’s an evocative mix of black and white and color. I let my imperfections have the last word. But Grandma’s face is revived, so many decades later. The picture was probably taken 60 or 70 years ago. For a moment, last night, time became a bridge, and I walked across it.

I feel like a little bit of me is still back there in the imaginary place where time and geography became fluid.

Love, X

Ghost Prank!


Modern ghosts use higher thread count – and certainly more stylish colors.

I pranked my neighbor by carefully walking across the apartment landing and triggering both of her cameras as I wore my stylish ghost costume.

Long live Halloween. (And goofiness, too!)

Love, X

P.S. My cat Güino has commandeered my ghost suit. I was going to go to the other end and knock on the neighbor’s door and say something clever.

Catch Up!

I’ve been working on my new album. I have to finish it before Adele drops hers. Live focus groups, however, have been giving me mixed critiques!

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My latest painted rock. Would it be funny to conspicuously place this at the local convenience store gas pumps?

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“Trivial Pursuit” would be an ideal and sarcastic name for my autobiography. And each chapter should start with a question; by the end of the book, you could calculate your correct guesses. .

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Fayetteville is getting a little out of hand with these personalized signs. 🙂 I noticed this one on my early morning walk today.
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My counselor said, “If you don’t like having a mortgage, then you have an Apartment Complex.”

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In this modern world, the best enemies are the Amish, because they’ll never see you talking smack about them on the internet.

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My application for entry into the Seminary was rejected. One of the questions asked was, “Give an example of how the Church might save a lot of money.” I answered, “If you’d bless the water filter, you could make a lot more holy water with each blessing.”

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My neighbor told me he couldn’t figure out why people stopped honking at him while he drove. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d placed a “Student Driver” sticker on his bumper.

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Note: the spelling error is intentional on the above picture!

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Microsoft now offers bedding. I went online to the Microsoft Store and bought myself a set of nice Excel spreadsheets for $20.

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Therapy With Humor

When I arrived at the counselor’s office, I texted her in Spanish: “I’ve arrived. I hope the clown suit doesn’t bother you.” (She’s learned a decent amount of Spanish) I don’t think she would have been surprised if I had a clown suit on.

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I drew a picture of my money.

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I won’t inundate your feed with too many pictures of my cat Güino. However, people ask, “What’s with his name?” When he came home from the Springdale Animal Shelter in 2008, he was VERY young. When I visited him at the shelter, all he did was make this strange cry. It sounded like a penguin! Since I love Spanish, I shortened the word “pingüino” to “Güino.” It’s also fun to use a name with an umlaut in it. It’s pronounced “Gwee-no.” .

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My counselor said, “If you don’t like having a mortgage, then you have an Apartment Complex.”

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An edit I did for a meme I see all over the internet.

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An edit for a friend’s beautiful view…

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(Another edit for a friend…)

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Another Wallet

I walked a few times today. Though the sun beat down on me for the third walk, it was a beautiful day. Work is speeding toward me. Walking along a side street not far from the trail and Gregg, I saw what I knew to be someone’s wallet. This was one of the slim-design ones, with a narrow band to contain cards along both sides. Because of the volume of people passing through, I knew that the wallet had recently been dropped, most likely out of a cyclist’s pocket. This is the third wallet I’ve found this year. In both of the previous cases, I had to investigate their whereabouts on the internet. Both owners were very pleased that I’d found them.

Today’s wallet had a bit of cash, a driver’s license, as well as the person’s social security card, and two credit cards. Luckily for me (and for the owner), an internal slot had a couple of business cards. I called the number on the business card because the last name emblazoned on it matched the driver’s license surname.

When he answered, I said, “This isn’t a car warranty call! Do NOT hang up.”

“Okay,” he said. “Good pitch. What are you selling?” He was half-laughing.

“Car warranties,” I said, and laughed. “But no, really, if you’ll describe your wallet, I’ll tell you.”

He was silent for a couple of seconds. “Thank god. You found it?”

“Yes,” I think so. He described the wallet perfectly. Just to be funny, I said, “One last question: why do you have a punch card for Chuck E. Cheese in your wallet?”

“What? I don’t think so.” He was perplexed. I felt a flash of guilt for amusing myself, even as I laughed again.

“Where did you find it?” he asked.

“Over near Poplar and the trail. I assumed you lost it while riding your bicycle over here?”

“No, I think I left my wallet and drink on the toolbox of my truck and drove around with it. I can’t believe it fell there!” He laughed. “I don’t ride a bike. I’d crush the rims.”

We both laughed.

“If you can meet me right now, I’m going to walk past the Pack Rat Outdoor Center in a few minutes. Is that okay?”

“Yes, of course, thank you.”

A few minutes later, I stood in the parking lot of the store and watched the pond in front of the beautiful building. It’s a serene corner to observe.

He pulled in. I walked up to the vehicle and reached in and shook his hand as he thanked me. We exchanged a few pleasantries and jokes.

“You can get a bicycle you know. Go to Lewis And Clark and ask for a deal for a beginner.”

He smiled. “I just might. What can I give you as a reward?”

“Reward? No. Just pay it forward and that’s cool.”

“Do you want a ride to your house?” he asked me.

“Nah, that’s why I don’t need a bike. I walk a lot.”

“I’m glad you do,” he said. “Otherwise, I would have lost the money, the credit cards, and probably my identity.”

His name is Dan.

I’m going to take another walk now and enjoy the darkening, cloudy night. I hope it is as exquisite as last night’s stroll. \

And I hope you’re warm and loved wherever you are. If I find your wallet and call, don’t be alarmed by my car warranty joke.

Love, X
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Pizza Math And More

Pizza Math And More

A 16″ pizza is equal to four 8″ pizzas.

“Math was easy until the damned letters got involved.”

This is one of the few instances when math helps you to see the obvious.
Don’t let the formula fool you with round pizzas.
A = π r²
A = area
π = 3.14
r = the radius, or 1/2 the circular size

The area of a pizza is easy to calculate. If the pizza is 18″, the radius is 9″.
9 x 9 X 3.14, or 254 inches of pizza.

An 8″ pizza is 3.14 X 4², or 50 inches of pizza.
A 10″ pizza is 3.14 X 5², or 78 inches of pizza.
A 12″ pizza is 3.14 X 6², or 113 inches of pizza.
A 14″ pizza is 3.14 X 7², or 154 inches of pizza.
A 16″ pizza is 3.14 X 8², or 201 inches of pizza.
An 18″ pizza is 3.14 X 9², or 254 inches of pizza.

If you buy rectangular pizza, it is of course, easier to calculate.
A = Length X Width

If you buy a triangular pizza, you’re high. Go sit down.

It is amazing how often people think a 16″ pizza is twice as much pizza as two 8″ pizzas. It’s not: it’s FOUR times as much. An 18″ pizza is FIVE times as much pizza as one 8″ pizza.

If you’re looking for maximum “fill,” don’t forget to take into account whether the pizza is thick, thin, or regular. You might as well get the best bang for your buck. One “normal” slice of pizza is on average 1/8 of your total caloric need for the day. That can be depressing, but don’t dwell on it. It’s okay to be a glutton once and a while, especially with pizza. Never trust a man who dislikes pizza.

*I catch myself making the same sort of mistake at the grocery store. Luckily, most shelves have the “price per oz” marked.

*There’s a link below for a website that has saved students and adults alike a million hours of math anxiety: Wolfram|Alpha.

*If you want to know how to type special characters on a windows keyboard, there’s another link below.

PS: For early morning, I ate a light greek yogurt, fiber, vitamins, two cups of coffee, and a protein drink. For lunch, I ate a baked buffalo chicken breast (I cooked 6 lbs, all different flavors), a cup of light cottage cheese, a V-8, and a chocolate pudding cup. I don’t count calories myself, but it’s about 500 and a LOT of food. More importantly, I consumed about 90 grams of protein. I’m not accustomed yet to thinking ‘protein.’ I FEEL like I ate a large pizza.

X

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https://www.alt-codes.net/ For special characters such as an upraised 2, the pi symbol, an ‘e’ with an accent, etc

https://www.wolframalpha.com/ For a million shortcuts to do math.

Four Weeks

Four weeks ago today I woke up briefly at 6 in the morning. I had an NG tube, a catheter, an IV, and a spider web of other connections to machines. I was alive and the horrible spasmic muscle pains in my abdomen were gone, replaced by a strange feeling of void in my body. It feels like it was both yesterday and a year ago. As I walk the neighborhoods this morning, I’m grateful that my feet are capable of walking all these miles only a month later. I’m greedy for many more. It’s very dark here in suburbia, as close as I am to College Avenue. I can barely see the asphalt in front of me. I trust my feet to find their way. I’ve surrendered to the idea that no matter what we do, life always gets the last word and laugh.Love, X