Tag: dialogue

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Everyone believes very easily whatever he fears or desires

There’s a difference between real knowledge and junk food knowledge

I find Facebook and other social media to be a really enlightening look into the lives and workings of people I kinda know.

Not a day goes by when I don’t think about a quote from poet Jean De la Fontaine, who said that Everyone believes very easily whatever he fears or desires.

Every morning, I know that there will be a conspiracy theory from at least a dozen people on my list about how the NSA is trying to read my email to my mom, Monsanto secretly controls the world, or we’re all about to die from ______.

There’s also going to be the conservative rant from someone that says that Obama is ready to take all our guns and force us into hospitals next Thursday and the liberal rant that says that if we ignore the world’s problems, the world’s problems will ignore us.

More interesting to me is how often people mistake junk food intelligence for actual intelligence. They mistake some kernel of data for a self-proving fact, knowledge for intelligence.

The issue for me isn’t the spread of seriously questionable “knowledge.” It isn’t the childish simplification of seriously complex situations. It isn’t even the almost pathological willful ignorance.

It’s the fact that these people are bores.

Good god, stop being such a bore. It’s exhausting.

And it’s akin to walking around with spinach in your teeth and refusing to get rid of it. See the video below.

So why do I bother keeping them on? Because the danger is becoming one of them. To exclude opinions not in line with my own because I find them so ridiculous. It’s ignoring the balanced meal for the Happy Meal. After all, convictions are more dangerous enemies of truth than lies.

Moreover, who am I to say anything?

Me: (putting on shoes) I’m heading up to Harlem.
Her: Why?
Me: It’s the only place with a KFC.
Her: You’re going all the way to Harlem to go to KFC?
Me: (thinking) Yes.

Location: heading to the gym shortly
Mood: enjoying the fall-like temps again
Music: Sometimes I wish I could Calm the storm
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What’s the margin of error?

I try and have a scheduled life to avoid things like this

Me: (holding stomach) Just wanna let you know, there’s a 35-40% chance I’m going to be sick on you.
Him: What’s the margin of error?
Me: 5%.
Him: That’s still less than 50%. I’ll take my chances!

With how my schedule is involved, most days I have to eat and drink at very specific times. In the mornings, I have something at 8:30AM, again at 10AM and then not again until 3PM.

The reason for the gap is that I try to hit the gym three days a week in the middle of the day while also trying not to have something in my mouth or hand while I’m talking to clients during the other hours.

Every once in a while, I’ll have a long winded client or something that makes me miss my window. The other day, I missed it, but also already had a huge mess of bacon and eggs. So I downed it all with strong coffee and hit the gym.

Ultimately, nothing ended up happening although there were times I came close.

Vigorous exercise, the smell of dude in a sweaty gym, the heat, plus that breakfast was … ill-advised.

And I regularly work with the same guy so he, unfortunately has to deal with all my little eccentricities.

Me: Did you just buy that shirt?
Him: Yeah, I forgot to bring another clean shirt with me today and I know how you are about that kind of stuff.
Me: God, thank you.

Location: finishing up breakfast two
Mood: tired of summer
Music: Don’t run, stop holding your tongue
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Accomplishment is fish in the freezer and going paperless

Had, what I consider to be, a productive weekend

Him: Are you around? I went fishing this weekend. How much stripped bass do you want?
Me: Sweeeeeet!
Him: Want to meet me in front of MSG near the taxi stand around 4?

Went down to Madison Square Garden this past Sunday, fighting off tourists, and met up with my buddy Steele for what could easily have passed for cocaine transaction but instead involved striped bass. We chatted about lakes and rivers, exchange some advice, he told me about https://www.reelchase.com and then I was on my way.

As I stood in front of the queue for taxis and watched people come and go with their luggage I thought it pretty funny that I was probably the only one there for a fish-related transaction.

Well, it is NYC, I could be wrong. You never know.

As for the rest of my weekend, when the guy came to fix the radiator last week, realized that I have boxes and boxes of old files and books still.

So I I bought this scanner and went to town on them.

In all, I filled three 30 gallon recycling bags full of paper.

Now I’ve got fresh fish in the freezer and 90 gallons less paper in the house. Not quite paperless but close.

A pretty good weekend if you ask me.

You may disagree but when you turn 40, these are big accomplishments. Big.

Location: in a room with -90 gallons of paper
Mood: accomplished
Music: But I know my lines and my graphs and my math
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Woodwork and a stay in Manhattan

We’ll take any excuse for a staycation

Had some carpenters come into the pad to fix some flooring. They were supposed to come at 8:30 on Saturday but instead they showed up at 11:30.

That’s the thing with a lot of service people; they’re very flaky. I find that if they’re very responsive, I’m their customer for life.

Having said that, they did a seriously bang-up job on the floors. Essentially, part of it was damaged a long time ago by a previous occupant. They came in, tore up that entire section, replaced the wood, and stained/sealed it so that it looks exactly like the old wood.

Because we weren’t really sure that they’d get it all done in a day, the wife and I booked a hotel a few blocks south of us called On the Avenue.

Turned out that we didn’t need to stay there since the work was done so quickly but we like being tourists in our own city neighborhood. We had an early dinner at Serafina, an early night at the hotel and were back at home with our need wood floors the next day.

And more pizza the next day to boot.

Her: Oh, did you put that slice of pizza into the oven for me?
Me: (pause) Yes?
Her: (suspicious) Really?
Me: (pause) Yes?

When I’m hungry, common sense is the first thing to go.

Location: waiting for the summer heat to return
Mood: anxious
Music: everybody’s gotta get there somehow and I won’t wait
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Waiting for the chime that tells me to get back to work

Either insanely busy or not-at-all and little in-between

Her: Do you want some ice cream?
Me: Nah, I’m good. (five minutes later) Actually, that looks pretty good, can I have a few bites of your…
Her: Touch it and I’ll kick you in the face.

Finished up with this massive project last week so I’ve had a bit of downtime again.

With how my work is structured, I’m usually either insanely busy or not at all. There’s scant in-between.

I’m also at a age/position in my work life where I don’t actually have to show up anywhere as long as the work’s done. It’s a plus of being 40, I suppose.

Because of that, it takes me a little while to get used to having time to myself; feel almost guilty that I’m not doing something work related.

But then as I finally get used to downtime, I’ll get an email from a client that goes, Logan! Hey, I have a question for you.

Still, for the next three days at least, my plans are meeting up with a friend for drinks, working on some rapier/dagger fencing, some wrasslin, and a stack of magazines.

All the while, I’m listening for that sound that my computer makes when that email inevitably comes in telling me to get back to work.

!Ding!

Location: my apartment, waiting for it
Mood: rested
Music: Maggie advances to the final. Who knew that she had the goods?
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A daiquiri is not a frozen daiquiri

A daiquiri is completely different than a frozen daiquiri – also a pic of me with a hi-top fade

Her: What the…?
Me: Well, I did ask for a hightop fade.
Her: You did?
Me: Of course I didn’t! Look at me! I look like Kid from Kid ‘n Play.

Because of the insane heat in New York the past few weeks, been trying to do whatever I could to keep cool.

One thing was to go out with my buddy PB to a place around me called the Gin Mill and ask for a daquiri.

Like always, the waitress said, “We don’t have a blender.”

For pete’s … let’s clear up something right now: A daiquiri is as different from a frozen daiquiri as a yogurt is from frozen yogurt. As different as chocolate is from hot chocolate.

They’re completely different things.

Don’t know when it started that people think that the only daiquiris that exist are the frozen kind. At it’s most basic, a daiquiri is limeade and rum. That’s it.

Caipirinha, a Brazilian daiquiri
Caipirinha – essentially a daiquiri with sugercane rum.

Here’s my version of it:

  • Shot of light rum
  • Juice of one-half lime
  • 1/3 to 1/2 shot of sugar syrup or agave
  • Ice-filled glass
  • Top off with seltzer or water

And when it comes to beating the heat, that plus a fan is the classic way to do it.

A recent Esquire article titled, In Defense of the Daiquiri had the exact same issue with the blender and noted that, “It’s one of those cocktails that’s hard to make well because you can’t hide.”

I’ll tell people that’s why I drink them.

But that’s a lie.

You and I know that the real reason is that I just like to get rum into my fat belly.

Her: Oh, it doesn’t look that bad. Bring your big head over here.
Me: Hey…
Her: (hugging my head) It’ll grow back. (thinking) What’s the circumference of this thing?

Kid 'n' Play

Location: 21:00 yest, thrust, parry, thrust on the UWS
Mood: tired
Music: Pretend the water is champagne and fill my glass again and again
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Picasso and his napkin art

Effortless things take years of effort to accomplish

Female client: This bill is outrageous! Who do you think you are?
Me: I think I’m someone that needs to get paid for the work I do.
Her: For four pages of work?
Me: Let me tell you a story: Picasso was sitting in a cafe one day when someone asked him to draw something on a napkin. He did and asked for $12,000. Like you, the man said that it was outrageous because it only took him a minute, to which Picasso said, “Actually, that took me 40 years.”
Her: So you think you’re Picasso?
Me: No, but I did spend the 15 years learning how to write that four page document you’re holding in your hand. If you could have done it, you would’ve. You came to me, not the other way around. You don’t work for free, why do you expect me to?

It’s a never-ending thing in the service industry: explaining the difference between value and price.

Igor Stravinsky and Pablo Picasso collaborated...
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Location: back from the gym
Mood: irritated
Music: my brush would take me there But only If I were a painter
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Jaws or Poetry is in the limitations

Jaws was the world’s first blockbuster because of what it couldn’t do


Me: What about Wednesday?
Her: (looking at calendar) I think I’m free Wednesday night.
Me: Cool, it’s a date. (laughing) This is like when we were first dating.

Planning out a date night with the wife, we discussed what film to see.

Years ago, summer was when Hollywood put out its shlock. Their very best films they brought out in wintertime – the holidays – and the dregs of what they had was reserved for the summer.

That is until Jaws.

famous poster
famous poster (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Jaws was such a massive success that it actually created the modern meaning of the word, “blockbuster” as well as the entire summer movie season.

And the reason why it was a blockbuster was because of a mechanical shark named “Bruce” (after his lawyer!)

Bruce was built specifically for the film but the problem was that it was so experimental that it broke down constantly. All these scenes that Spielberg had envisioned in his head, Bruce couldn’t do.

And a pivotal scene was when a girl is attacked by the monster.

So Spielberg decided to not show the the shark/the monster/Bruce at all. Instead, you see the girl being yanked under and dragged about.

If you’ve seen the film, you’re seeing this scene in your head as you read this. I saw the film 25 years ago and still remember it vividly.

Partly because of that scene, and a number of other changes Spielberg made because Bruce was so persnickety, Jaws became that first blockbuster.

Art is in the limitations.

When I wrassle, there are a number of things I can’t do because of my injuries. And there are some things my fencing students can’t do because of injuries or physical limitations. So we find other things to do. Cool things. Artful things.

I’ve reached a point in my life where, when things don’t go my way, I think, OK, what can we do differently here? And more times than not, it’s better.

I suppose it’s a plus of being older. Which is good, because there are a lot of negatives.

Barber: You know, you should wear a hat.
Me: I do in the winter.
Her: Good. Hats make older people like you look distinguished. Plus you can hide your bald spot.

 

Location: looking for air conditioned rooms
Mood: steamy
Music: Well, might as well give it another day
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Scytales On the Dark Side

Imagine if we could send messages to ourselves

Him: It’s funny, isn’t it? How something like a song can snap you back to a time in your life?
Me: I don’t think I’ve heard that song in decades.

A scytale’s just a stick that’s of a certain thickness.

A scytale
A scytale (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

If you took, say, a belt, and wrapped it around a stick and then proceeded to write across it, it would make a rudimentary code. While wrapped around the stick, you could read it normally but unwrap it and it would just be a jumble of letters unless you had a stick of the same diameter.

Spartans and the Athenians use to write to each other in this code. Somehow got onto the topic of codes with my wife.

Me: I used to write these coded letters to myself.
Her: Why yourself?
Me: (laughing) No one’d ever play with me as a kid. No one ever wants to play with the really fat minority nerd. So I just wrote them to myself.
Her: (patting me on the head) It’s hard being a kid.

This all came about because my brother called me to talk about that song above and our childhood in general. It was rough for both of us but for different reasons.

However, my one saving grace may have been my insomnia. Because it’s all very hazy. I just remember being lonely a lot but not really discrete things about it. I wonder if he had such a buffer.

In any case, I think my wife feels sorry for that version of me. And in a weird way, I do too. Because he’s me but he is not I.

But I remember that version of me sitting and listening to that song and wishing he could sing.

Sorry kid, 28 years later, we still can’t.

But we can do things I never dreamt I’d be able to do. And have the most amazing life.

Still, while I am very grateful for everything I have, I did wonder what it would be like if I could send a coded message to my younger self. After all, listening to that message was like him talking to me.

I’d send two, actually:

  • One would tell him that everything would be fine: Everything is the same but different. The acne would clear up, the fat would go away, and sheer terror of life would stop. Just stop.
  • Of course, the other would tell him to buy Apple stock when it was $7 a share like there was no tomorrow.

I’m no sentimental fool.

Location: on my way to other latitudes
Mood: pleased
Music: like a dream, make me feel crazy
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And in the “I knew it!” file…

Study shows that people that meet online are less likely to get divorced


A recent study came out that showed that:

  1. more than a third of people that marry met online, and
  2. are less likely to divorce.

This makes sense to me. As I said before, online dating is like having an aunt named Aunt eMatch saying, “I’ve got a girl I think you might like – and here’s her resume, a buncha pics, and a writing sample.”

While I didn’t meet my wife online, she represents exactly what I was looking for. And I’d been looking for her for a while. After all, we’re always looking for our people.

On a related point, because of a number of reasons, I have a good deal of twenty-something friends on FB. I’m always slightly amused and nauseated at how much the profess their undying love to each other, then have an online spat, and then sign on again to write egregiously bad poetry about soulmates.

Heard a joke once where someone said something like, Your soulmate is the guy that had the locker next to you in high school? What are the chances?!

Dating is tiring and depressing with occasionally bright spots of hope – mainly because it’s a constant stream of being disappointed and disappointing others. But just like anything of value, if it were easy, it wouldn’t be valuable.

The difficult and rare things are valuable.

I think a large part of divorces happen because either (a) someone wanted it easy, and/or (b) there wasn’t enough connection to begin with.

There’s no such thing as a soulmate. There is such thing as a lotta hard work and having enough in common to begin with.

Inadvertent comedy doesn’t hurt either.

Me: (entering room) Are you ok?
Her: I just accidentally typed in Wetflix instead of Netflix. (pause) I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.

Location: about to run to an office in shorts and a tee-shirt
Mood: contented
Music: It’s still hard to wait around. The problem is this seems so easy to miss
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