Phil RedBeard

Boston

My dad came out as a huge Boston Red Sox fan a few years ago. You see, he was born in New London, Connecticut, and despite being a NAVY brat that traveled the US before settling in Virginia Beach, Virginia, he considers the north east United States to be his “home” territory. The baseball team of note in that part of the country is the Red Sox. As such, it has been his dream to visit Fenway Park, home of the Red Sox. This year my family decided to take him there.

We purchased airfare in March for late July, and began planning activities in and around the ballpark for a week in Boston. During the spring, it rained a lot there, and the fear was that we might have baseball games rained out, or general bad weather for the week. We simply had to wait and see. Shortly after deciding on the trip, my elder brother from Arizona agreed to fly to meet us, and with my wife and parents, the trip turned out to be a family affair. My sister couldn’t come, but she already was planning a trip with her daughters to our home territory in Virginia during the same week.

Along with Boston, we decided to take a day and travel to Groton, Connecticut, home of a submarine museum and the resting place of the USN 751 Nautilus, my grandfather’s first naval posting. We would be able to tour the submarine itself, and see where grandpa spent so much time at sea in the early days of his military career.

Finally the time came, and we prepared for the trip. Weather was still a bit uncertain, but we had tickets for two Red Sox games, and a few other things planned, and were determined to make the best of it. That we did!

One of the particulars of Boston is that it is a proper city, old and close quarters. That means there is a minimum of parking space, and a reliance on public transportation: buses, metro, trains, etc. Everyone walks, and it is a busy city at all times. This is something our family is not particularly used to, having grown up in a large metroplex in Virginia, and currently living in the Dallas-Fort Worth area in Texas. It was a bit of a learning curve to figure out the stops (and direction!) of the metro and bus schedules. Which arriving train did we need to get on? The green line or the blue line? Which side of the platform? I am sure the locals were a bit amused at us clear outsiders being confused, though no one actively pointed or laughed. However, on one occasion, when taking the train to see my friend Zach who lives an hour north of Boston, I was trying to ask if this was, in fact, the train to “Haverhill” only to have a conductor look at me in obstinate confusion. Eventually his partner responded that I was mispronouncing it, and that this was the train to “‘Aver’ill”. Yes, it was the train. No, I didn’t say it right. Thus assured, we boarded the train, and made it to see my friend and his family for the day. (Actually the story works better as an oral anecdote when I can affect the pronunciations. Oh well. You probably get the idea.)

Having (mostly) figured out the public transportation, I proceeded to rent a car. Actually, my wife and I were traveling next to the western-most side of Massachusetts to visit her aunt and cousin. We had a lovely drive through the countryside at the comfortable pace of 55 mph. This, too, was a bit of culture shock from Texas (my sister confirmed the same thing about Virginia while she was there): Texas speed limits on the highway are set to 70 mph, but everyone drives about 80 mph. In Massachusetts the speed limit is 55 mph, and everyone drives, well, about 55 mph. Actually the slower pace meant a slower heart rate and a relaxing (if longer) trip out west. After all, we arrived. And had a great time talking to and relaxing with my wife’s family.

Saturday was our first baseball game at Fenway, and another bit of transport “fun”. We rode the metro to the ballpark, the only sensible way to get there, but at each stop, we were squeezed tighter and tighter as more and more people packed into the train car to get to the game. A few uncomfortable minutes later, and we were there. The weather was beautiful, our seats were fantastic, and the ballpark was magical.

Fenway is the oldest operating Major League Baseball stadium, having been built in 1912! It feels properly aged in all the best ways. We sat that night on original wooden benches, and took in baseball the way it was meant to be seen: without many modern distractions. It was an emotional time to finally be in the place we had dreamed of visiting for so long. Fenway was everything I wanted it to be. And what’s more, the Red Sox handily beat the visiting Houston Astros, our Texas cross-state rivals that we never like to see win.

Speaking of emotions, they were heightened once again on Monday when we finally drove to Connecticut to visit the Nautilus. It was surreal to climb (literally) through hatches and over bulkheads and see the tiny spaces that my grandfather once inhabited. The galley, the kitchen, the stacked bunks, and the overall lack of space aboard the United States NAVY’s first nuclear submarine was an eye opening experience. My father said he had vague memories of being aboard when he was a youngster, though the sub understandably felt bigger then (though I imagine not by much). I wished the entire day that my grandfather was still alive to be able to accompany us to the submarine and tell us once more of his time beneath the waves. I longed to hear his voice telling us stories of “cat-and-mouse” games with the Soviet NAVY.

We finished the week with an early morning tour of Fenway Park, visiting, among other stops, the field and the Green Monster (a 37-foot tall left field wall with seats atop). We had an excellent tour guide, and it was well worth the extra cost to have a private tour, just us four (my wife declining the tour) and our guide. We learned so much history and heard many amusing stories along the way. That evening we watched a second game, and enjoyed another Red Sox win.

We had gorgeous weather all week (despite one night of rain while walking back from the metro station to our AirBnB), and it was disheartening to arrive back in Dallas to 90sF and high humidity after enjoying temps in the 70sF and beautiful breezes. Particularly pleasant was Sunday evening when we took a Boston harbor cruise. Seeing the skyline from the water was fun, and I was able to take plenty of great pictures (as I did throughout our time).

In all, the trip to Boston was everything I needed it to be: historical (both for the family and generally), relaxing, fun, and a little exasperating (oh! the metro!). I thoroughly enjoyed seeing my brother, spending quality time with my wife, and relaxing with my parents in a new city and making lifetime memories. I plan to put together a photo book of the pictures we took, which will be a great way to relive our time there and cherish the feelings.

Dog Days

Heat. It saps my energy and my will to continue. Yesterday I was out in the heat for a bit and that must have done me in because all I’ve done today is sleep and rest. I am dreading this evening because I need to go back out in the heat and cut grass and weed-eat around my property. Ugh.

In the mean time, I thought this might be a good time to check in with how the summer is going as regards my goals. All-in-all, it is going rather well. I am reading through Shakespeare’s Star Wars by Ian Doescher (while in the bathroom; hey, it’s something) and have completed the Phantom of Menace and The Clone Army Attacketh and am starting The Tragedy of the Sith’s Revenge. To go from almost no books read, to two down and more to go feels like a real accomplishment. I think after Revenge I will take a break from pseudo-Shakespeare and tackle something different altogether.

My doomscrolling has gone way down, though the app limits, which I did implement, started to annoy me. Either it isn’t enough time or it is too easy to circumvent, but either way I’ve turned it back off for now. I tend to have reached a balance with app limits off that keep me from doomscrolling for too long. Maybe I’ve learned a little discipline? Time will tell.

I’ve made huge process, too, on other tasks, primarily on the LEGO sorting. Working through the backlog of LEGO sets I bought primarily for the pieces (and not for display) has taken less time than I feared and I am already formulating plans to build, with eBay having furnished me some baseplates on which to construct. I can’t wait until they arrive so I can actually start. I still need to finish phase one of scanning in photos for my mother, and a few other things I planned to do have gone undone as of yet, but there is time still. My productivity has been up, and that is what I wanted.

Oh! I almost forgot: haiku! I’ve been writing them. I am a member of the social media platform Mastodon, and there is an account I follow that posts haiku prompts each week for each day. In the evening, I have been writing a few haiku just for fun. Maybe someday I will choose the best and refine them for some project, but right now it is about writing and enjoying the form. Here’s one I wrote recently:

After full summers

Winter ballparks lay fallow.

Hush! Legends need rest.

It needs a bit more tweaking, as do most of them, but it’s a start and a fun exercise before sleep.

I’ve even done some movie watching this summer, and in the theater, no less! My parents and I went to see F1 starring Brad Pitt, and just yesterday my sister, her beaux Will, and my parents, and I went to see the newest Superman.

Pitt’s action vehicle F1 was pretty much by-the-numbers about an aging former star returning to a thing to help an up-and-coming phenom, and both learn a grudging respect while winning the day. The cinematography was amazing, and put the viewer in the driver’s seat in a way I haven’t seen since Tom Cruise’s Top Gun: Maverick. I enjoyed the spectacle, and the story made me care about Formula 1 racing in the same way that Legend of Bagger Vance made me care about golf. That is to say, I don’t, but both stories were strong enough to pull me in and feel like I cared about the sport for a few hours.

On the other hand, Superman was a bit of a shouty, if colorful, mess. Eschewing the origin story, for better or for worse, it throws the audience into the story of Clark Kent and runs from there. Nicholas Hoult’s Lex Luthor was over the top, and not in a good way, and everything felt a little hurried. I did absolutely love the scene-stealing Krypto the Super-Dog, and always love Nathan Fillion in a role, especially the douchebag Green Lantern Guy Gardner (who proves that a Green Lantern -can- work on screen!) which truly made me laugh. There were a few, brief, heartfelt moments in the movie, and I did appreciate that the score incorporated John William’s original theme for Superman. But other than that, it didn’t make me want to revisit the movie again, despite being curious what the rest of the Justice League will look like in this new universe that James Gunn, director of Superman and DC’s new direction, is building. I’ll have to wait and watch.

By the way, if you loved F1 and Superman, that is terrific! They weren’t precisely my cup of tea, and that is ok. We all love different things in different ways and for different reasons and that is what makes us colorful, wonderful, humans.

Finally, I knocked a few items off my list by completely re-organizing the kitchen and the laundry room. I did it entirely over one evening, and it felt really good to get done. I basically went through every single cabinet, pulling everything out, and deciding what I needed, what I didn’t, and how to organize most efficiently as I put what I needed back into the cabinets. For the moment they are staying organized and the kitchen remains tidy, and that makes me smile and less stressed every time I go in there. Fantastic win.

And, with me completing a blog post just now, I feel I was able to do -something- ahead of cutting the grass this evening. I know that I will be happy to have the outdoor chore done, I just dread doing it each time I must. I’m not sure why I hate it so. Perhaps it is my reluctance to sweat, and I don’t enjoy mindless exercise, but it needs to be done, and just before sunset is the time to do it, therefore do it I shall and then it will be done (for another week or so).

Yes, the summer is going well, despite the heat and uncomfortable humidity we have had in Texas this summer. Setting goals has been huge for keeping me on track, and writing about my goals to see the progress I’ve made has been good to help me stay positive, especially on days like today when I tend to be down on myself for not doing too much.

Here’s to the rest of the summer and my upcoming vacation to Boston, for which I am starting to get very excited! Just ten more days, and I’ll be flying away to New England. Can’t wait.

Doing the Hard Things

I mentioned last time out that I want to make some changes to my routines.

I want less phone time. I’ve noticed that large swaths of my time are taken up these days with endless, mindless viewing of my social media apps. Only one is really a net positive, where I have burgeoning relationships, and I feel it adds to my life in a meaningful way. The rest are, at best, neutral. I haven’t used Twitter/X for some time now, and while cutting that out of my life was a huge positive, I can’t bring myself to quit the others, at least, not yet. In all, I don’t think I need to, but I certainly could do with less.

Over the past couple weeks, I have been trying to be mindful of when I most often am on my phone mindlessly scrolling. Usually it comes in three places: the bathroom, during commercial breaks in a baseball game, and during the day when I don’t particularly have anything specific to do.

I think I have cracked at least one problem, leading to a solution, and I am almost to another. The third is a bit more difficult, for reasons I’ll mention when I get there.

First: the bathroom. This one seems easy to me, and I’ll implement the solution starting today. I, like almost everyone with a smartphone I assume, take my phone into the bathroom with me. Growing up, smartphones didn’t exist, so I couldn’t do that, and instead took a paperback with me or read my mother’s old Reader’s Digests. I don’t know why it took me so long to think of this, but I will simply ban my phone from the bathroom. I will leave a paperback in the bathroom (so I don’t forget, it would be so sad to be bored in there!) and this may even kickstart my reading habit again. Wouldn’t that be nice? But seriously, if I can’t survive without my phone the few minutes the few times a day I am stuck in the bathroom, I’ve got more of a problem than I imagine.

Second: baseball games. Baseball season lasts from late February through November, and that is a long stretch where I watch at least part of a game almost every day (it used to be more, but these days I can barely focus on one game a day). Anyway, I get distracted every half inning because of the commercial break. This annoying few minutes comes and goes all game, and I mute the commercials as they are repetitive and irritating. I want something to do, as staring at a silent TV of images I don’t care about is boring. I tend to grab my phone and check each app in turn, mostly not even engaging or seeing what is there. After two innings, this really gets pointless as, unless something is breaking, there aren’t updates on social media that frequently. Not only am I zombiescrolling, but I’m not even seeing anything new. What am I even doing?

My solution? Have a project to work on throughout the game. Right now it is scanning photos for my mum. She has albums and shoeboxes full of old photos, and scanning them in doesn’t take much mental energy. Therefore I can work during the commercials, and often during the innings as well until the action heats up, and put down the phone. This allows me to make positive progress on something I want to do, and take in a ballgame at the same time. Win-win.

Third: in the down times. Here is where I still don’t have a direct solution. Part of the struggle is my overall inability to focus/concentrate and my lack of pep. I have tons of things I want to do, and many projects to work on, but mostly in the mid-afternoon and mid-evening I get to a point where I am semi-tired feeling, but don’t want to or can’t sleep, but also don’t have the gumption to do anything. Doomscrolling enters stage left and takes over the hours. Literally, hours. I don’t feel better because of it, usually feeling more restless even, and again, it isn’t like I am reading something new for a few hours because there aren’t even updates that often.

I am trying to get to the heart of why I doomscroll. Part of it may be a fear of missing out, a baked-in feeling of missing things that are being posted, but I think that is more or less the algorithm messing with my mind after a decade or so of being trained by it. Breaking the habit of doomscrolling may help me to see that I can check in once or twice a day (or less) and catch up with anything I’ve genuinely missed and not have that need as much. Part of it may also be the genuine connection to the few people I interact with online, and not wanting to neglect that. Again, I don’t have to be online constantly to do that. Boredom may also be a factor here, though, as I said, it is less that than an inability to focus. Either way, I don’t like being idle, and doomscrolling has the illusion of busyness. Breaking the habit will also break the illusion, and could lead to me actually being bored enough to get inspired to do something else.

A possible solution here is limits. Allowing myself a total amount of time to be on social media, and then that’s it for the day might be a great way to set limits for myself. I think that may be possible directly from iOS. If not I might simply need to exercise some self-discipline. Either way: possible solution! I might need some medical intervention here if my inability to focus or have energy has a physical or mental solution. That might take talking to my doctor or re-engaging with a therapist, but those are steps I am willing to take. I want to be healthy, and I can see that doomscrolling is not healthy.

Lastly, there is my morning routine outside of the bathroom. For some reason lately (last couple weeks) I’ve been waking up earlier than I would prefer and don’t have anything specific to do before I actually need to get ready for the day. Again, the bright allure of my smartphone screen tends to suck me in. I also want to put it away during this time. I mentioned this before, but I think I want to start a practice of meditation/mindfulness, coupled with reading time (a different thing than my bathroom reading – less novel and more nonfiction or poetry) and writing time (less blog and more poetry or prose). Not only would I probably feel more productive, but most likely more creative, too.

If I can manage to be at all successful with all this, I think certain aspects of my mental health and overall feeling of well-being will improve. I am excited to make the experiment. I remind myself that it isn’t about being perfect, or having an unbroken streak, but it is about being consistently intentional. Looking at my phone isn’t a moral failing, or a sign of some sort of contrived addiction, merely a natural part of living in this future of the 20th century. But I have noticed, for me, that it isn’t something I want to continue, and so I am putting this out into cyberspace as a way to mark the change I want to make. This feels like a hard thing to do, but as my sister frequently tells her daughters: “we can do hard things”. I can do hard things!

The Hustle

I’ve got me a week and a half of working from home, and generally relaxed time. My boss is out of town, I having dropped him off at the airport for a work trip, and there being no reason for me to be at the office as a result. I’ll have work to do, for sure, but it will be intermittent at best, and here and there. Check an email, write an email, do-a-thing kind of shuffle.

Perfect time for me to hustle and get things accomplished. I wrote about all I want to do in the post previous to this one. I even bought me two new books yesterday that arrived today, in case I really get ambitious with the reading. Both have been on my list for a long time: The Soul of an Octopus and The Odyssey of Star Wars. More on them later if I get around to reading them. I’ve come to understand that I am not piling books up for no reason, I am, in fact, building a library, a trust, for the future. I can look into the collection of words on a whim whenever I want to. Hard to do if you don’t have the collection to begin with.

I’ve made right by already re-arranging the living room, and am considering decor for the recently excavated fireplace and mantle. The mantle still has a few things I set there when we moved in, and I want to make sure that’s what I want to live there more or less permanently. Speaking of permanence, I can’t wait for the holidays and decorating this year! I didn’t have the opportunity last year on account of my wife and me moving and not being somewhere, well, permanent, but that shouldn’t be the case this year. This year it is going to be autumn, and then Yuletide, decorations for quite a while.

Anyway, between then and now, we’ve got summer and it’s the perfect time to explore what can be.

Into the plans the monkey wrench has been thrown, and in addition to all else, I am thinking about starting a morning routine for before my morning routine. I explain thusly: I have been waking up earlier than I plan to lately, and generally spend time scrolling on my phone. It ain’t exactly a good habit, and I’ve been considering replacing it with some healthy habits. What habits? Perhaps a meditation practice, writing, reading: being mindful. I usually have about an hour, and I think that would be perfect for a few minutes meditating, twenty minutes reading, and twenty minutes writing. It don’t sound like much, but it would be a start. Timers would help, but it is quiet while my wife and dogs sleep in, with generally just the bird song out the window and the gentle whirring of the ceiling fan o’erhead. I wouldn’t constrain myself to needing to do this every morning, at least to start, but only those days when I wake up early.

I’ve been thinking again about a podcast. Maybe it’s because I’ve been listening to podcasts again as I build and sort LEGO, but I am continually drawn to the art form. I tried producing a podcast back in the good old pandemic days, but it never got off the runway. I think what I need is a partner-in-mics, someone to talk to, rather than me rambling away like so much chattering. I want to explore themes of family, memory, and life in many facets, and that is best done with someone else. Hard to be introspective when I’ve thought all these thoughts before, without the welcome intrusion of another’s ideas and perspectives. I even have a few co-hosts in mind that I may approach, but for now it’s all “mums-the-word” and working on building it out before I put it out there for consideration.

In all, the summer is going well. I’m positive, despite the utter horror show that is *gestures at everything*, and that’s not nothing. I still can spiral down into the darkness below, but that isn’t forever, and is becoming less and less intense. I pull out of the tailspin almost as quickly as I dip into it, and that is a major win for my psyche. I’ve long wrestled with depression and anxiety, and it feels great to be be-boppin’ along for the most part. I raise a glass of sugar-free soda to the summer ahead, and look forward to what comes next.

In the Queue

My summer goes by slowly.

Ever since the semester ended at the university, I haven’t had much work-for-pay. One job I hold there is writing consultant, meaning I assist students with their writing assignments (if they ask for help). The other job I hold is administrative assistant to one of the department heads, meaning I do anything he needs me to do in order to assist him with his duties.

The first job has mostly evaporated (temporarily) due to there being few students taking classes over the summer. The second job is hit or miss lately, with me working only when my boss has tasks for me to complete. I’m squeaking by in the pay aspect, with just enough work to keep bills paid until the fall semester will start. This is one aspect of scholastic work that I don’t particularly enjoy, at least at this university: the lack of a consistent paycheck all year ‘round.

However, with unexpected, though unpredictable, time on my hands, I have a few projects that I could work on when I don’t have much else to do.

Scanning

My mother is a shutterbug, and something of a photo collector. In the age before this one, when photography was analog, she amassed quite of lot of photographs. Now that we are living in a digital world, she would like these photos available to her on the iPad and in the cloud. That means scanning. She has procured a scanner (albeit a finicky one) that works well enough and quickly enough to scan in many photos in a session. I have already scanned a few albums worth, but have many more to scan. I think this will end up being more than a summer project, but it is in the queue.

Poetry

It is now two and a half years since I completed my first compendium of poetry, a book that has sold about four copies worldwide. And while I have barely written any poetry since, I am thinking about what my next poetic project could be, and I have an idea: a chapbook. My book of poems comprises several sections, and I thought it might be cool to create chapbooks of each section, and sell them individually as art projects containing both word and visual. I have saved in a wishlist online some appropriate paper, and a heavy-duty stapler that could aid me in creating these chapbooks, and all it takes is putting some together. My wife maintains an area on consignment in a local craft shop, and perhaps I could add a few of these chapbooks to that area and see if they sell. I don’t know that they would, but it is an idea in the queue.

Reading

I start to sound like a broken record in this regard, but I find it difficult to read these days. I wish I could read, but every time I think about opening a book, it seems an insurmountable task. But, I have a book that I bought a while back, Patrick Stewart’s Making It So. I would like to read that book this summer. It used to be I could read twelve books every couple of weeks, but maybe I can manage one book by September. I don’t know if that is achievable, but that book is in the queue.

Photography

Lately I acquired some scenery material: driftwood, sand, rocks, etc. and I aspire to use this to craft photo worthy scenes. While I’ve yet to use it as such, the ideas are percolating in my head of photos I could take. I have a few difficulties to iron out, such as a lack of room, not wanting to build permanent dioramas for the photos, and what to do with the scenery media when I am done with it, but I can’t shake the images I see when I close my eyes and dream of what could be. The pictures shimmer in the queue.

Organization

My wife and I moved into this house just after Christmas Day in 2024, which means we’ve been here almost six months now. The house is just now starting to feel like a home, and as such, it needs a few things internally, that thankfully aren’t plumbing or maintenance related. No, I am speaking of decorating and organizing. I have made great strides in the craft room (what was supposed to be the master bedroom) in terms of both decor and optimizing storage, layout, and usability. But the living room, the kitchen, and even perhaps the bedroom could use some help.

The kitchen in particular has very little decor, and still bears the marks of being moved into hastily, with little organization, optimization, and isn’t terribly user friendly. It does the job, but it needs TLC. The bedroom we are only in for sleep and whatnot, so that is low on the priority list, but the living room is the third most used common area (after kitchen and craft room). It, too, needs a little thought and love. Decorating and organizing thoughts drift through the queue.

Clearly, I have plenty to do. It has helped to streamline my priorities just in writing them down. Before I had vague ideas, but now I have action points and even some hazy plans. Yeesh, that sounded too much like a few of the committees I was on for work this past year. Shudder. If I could accomplish even half of these queued tasks, though, I would feel like I had a great summer, and my environment would benefit, as would my creative expression which needs, um, expressing.

And also in the queue? R&R. I can report that I have been already availing myself of some of that, and with a trip to Boston planned for the end of July, I can even take some time to see another part of the world. Won’t that be fun?

A Dash of Magic

I can’t be the only one.

Since 2020, the pandemic year, I feel as if I have lost something. Something that hasn’t come back to me.

During that time, I’ve gotten married, inherited two wonderful dogs, sold a home, got out of much of my debt, and bought another home that suits better, all with my wife-partner’s help.

I have many wonderful things around me: tools to create, entertainment to enjoy, and the aforementioned wife and dogs that add so much. But.

But: something is missing. Could it be the magic of the world has started to vanish? Before the pandemic, I would visit the movie theater and enjoy a film. Restauranting to savor a good meal was a particular pleasure. Taking a trip and experiencing a new part of the world was fun and wonderful. But now? I can count on less than one hand the movies I have seen in the theater. I go out to eat but it seems routine. I am and am not excited about going to Boston this summer.

Since I contracted Covid-19 and almost died, and emerged with long-term health issues to compound my mental health struggles that were already extant…

I haven’t been the same me.

Add to that the hell show that is America’s political theater, the wars and rumors of wars, genocides, plagues, economical disasters…

It is a lot. I acknowledge here my privilege to only be obliquely touched by most of the above, and my fortunate recovery from the plague a few years ago, yet I can’t quite recapture what I once felt.

And I can’t be the only one. If you are out there, struggling like me, please reach out.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the most recent television show that I viewed, Star Wars: Andor Season 2. The show itself was bleak, grey, and hard to watch. There was little joy, little positivity, and little hope. The show was well-written, but it was about a very dark time. It has massively good ratings, and I’ve been trying to figure that out. Sure, people love a good drama, but beyond that, I can’t help but wonder if its grey-ness is reflective of the times we live in, and that is resonating on an unconscious, or maybe even conscious, level with so many viewers.

So many of the characters in Star Wars: Andor, who are fighting tyranny and oppression for a future they never even see, lose their joy, their happiness, their positivity. There are smirks, but no smiles. There are barks of jest, but no laughter. There is the smoldering fire of rebellion, but no light in their eyes. Have I, like them, lost what makes life worth living? Do I only have the drudgery of resistance to look forward to each and every day?

I hope not. If so, better to go out in a blaze of hateful dissent and be done with it all! The world is desperately spiraling, but hasn’t it always been so? Isn’t it always just a whisper away from spinning apart? Through many dark times, beauty escapes the bleakness, and flashes with bold colours across the horizon.

I think one of the problems with Star Wars: Andor is that it did not show what the characters were fighting to preserve. They made speeches about it, referenced it, but precious little of it made it to the screen. A daughter of one of the main characters in the second season was wedded, and insisted on a traditional marriage, following the ancient customs of her people. However, the entire affair was overshadowed by the mother’s problems, cares, and desperation. This would have been a fantastic opportunity to show that even in a galaxy overwrought with an Empire, there was joy and love to be found, but the entire ceremony was bleak. The wedding toast talked more of pain than pleasure, as case in point.

Sure, show the hardness of rebellion, the persistence of purpose needed to beat a remorseless enemy capable of atrocity, but give me the hope, my only hope, that I need: that life is still possible! Let me know that what I am fighting for is worth it, that I needn’t lose who I am and wish to be.

I believe that true resistance, true rebellion, comes not from tearing down what we hate, but by building up what we love to bridge over the troubled waters. Connection, beauty, passion, vibrancy is what wins the day, not gritted teeth and grim jaws. Show me the rebels alive, and making merry for tomorrow they may die, keeping the spirit of their bodies fed as much as the fervor for which they fight the next day! Why else would they fight?

I’ve lost the ability to eat anything and everything whenever I want. For a year or more, I was restricted by masks and caution. I now face an uncertain future for years to come. But…

But how is that different than any other day, really?

I could walk across the street tomorrow and be flattened by a submarine falling from the sky. Shouldn’t I then enjoy what I have before me today?

An old friend of mine said once that “restrictions breed creativity”.

“Restrictions breed creativity” – Joel

What he meant by that is unfettered access to whatever we need or want leads to slovenly and lazy work. True genius emerges from using what is at hand, and forging out of that the spectacular. Take Jaws, for example. The animatronic shark barely worked, and wasn’t very convincing. So Steven Spielberg hid it in the shadows, in the darkness, and barely showed it on screen for most of the movie. The restriction of a malfunctioning prop forced him to compensate with a dramatic tension that makes the move ten times scarier and more menacing.

I can’t have much sugar? Be creative with what I can have, and make every bite worth it. I couldn’t go out into the world due to a raging pandemic? I wrote poetry through the looking glass of my house windows. I can’t help what my government is doing? I can live flamboyantly and be unapologetically myself.

I can create the magic I need out of the dust and ashes that I see. After all, in the trite example of geology, natural diamonds are formed through putting ordinary carbon through immense pressure. Take what is there and make it beautiful is the lesson. Love the rebel you are with, and make love last throughout the rebellion. Hope can only exist where there is joy and unfettered expression, and, after all, rebellions are built on hope.

Otherwise, why rebel? Look away from the Imperial flag and miss the blue sky. Wear black and white and grey, and miss the green and blue and red and the blazing yellow that we borrow from the life of the stars.

The lesson to myself here is to make my own magic. I think back on another aspect of Star Wars, to the magicians of Industrial Light and Magic that created the film’s special visual effects. It was hot, hard work, but through the days they made fun, had parties, and (barely, to be sure) got the film across the line. If it wasn’t so, I seriously doubt Star Wars as we know it would exist. To tell the story, they needed to live their own.

To experience magic, I need to manufacture my own.

This becomes my mandate to myself: make magic as often, and as exuberantly, as possible, out of whatever I have before me. Join me, and together we can re-make the galaxy into a place worth saving!

Update: May 2025

Wednesday in north Texas is supposed to reach triple digit temperatures, on the Fahrenheit scale anyway, so I guess summer is about to make a bold entrance in 2025. I thought I would take advantage of the brief time before the heat arrives to take stock of where I stand as I head into the imminent summer.

Health

Tomorrow marks three weeks of my change to healthier eating. I am experiencing increased energy, decreased lethargy, and I am staying awake longer than I have before. Important numbers are down, and in general, I feel better. I relish the change, and while weight loss is not a goal, it’s happening anyway. I am able to wear a 2X shirt for the first time in many years, and have more room in my jeans than I used to. I enjoy purchasing new clothes from time to time, and now I may have an excuse in the near future to do so. That’s exciting!

Andor

Light spoilers follow for a TV show. Skip the next paragraph to avoid.

I continue to watch Star Wars: Andor and it continues to not be my jam. I understand completely what they are doing with the story and the horror of the Empire’s rule, I just don’t think that it is necessary to see in stark “reality”. A recent episode showed a brutal massacre, and it was very difficult to sit through. I prefer my Star Wars more lighthearted and adventurous than dark and depressing.

Making

I started to build more with LEGO in the past weeks, having built one MOC (my own creation) out of an official set, with more custom building to follow. I even bought a few new shelf units to spread out my “on display” LEGO collection to provide more room to expand my MOC. I plan to build an entire street or two in a small Tatooine town, hopefully. I also bought a few Ultimate Collector Series sets (well, one was free due to reward points I’ve been saving over a few years!) that I can’t wait to build: the X-Wing Starfighter and the TIE Interceptor. They are updates of the first two ever UCS offerings that first appeared waaay back in 2000. Twenty-five years is a long time to wait to finally own the pair (though I did own, briefly, an interim UCS X-Wing that debuted in 2013, but I sold it not long after building, as was my habit back then).

Other making includes a diorama for my Star Wars action figures. A while back I bought miniature replica skulls of a rancor and a mudhorn, and I’ve finally got a few ideas of how to photograph them. I need to purchase a few materials to complete the dioramas, but once that is complete, I think I can break out my camera and finally snap a few photos. It will be a long time coming, but worth it. I also recently bought some new texture paint I can’t wait to play around with that might lead to even more creative dioramas and photos.

The past few weeks, or months, I remained busy with stuff around work and other pursuits, but I think I will finally start to dig into my hobbies with gusto. Especially with the summer coming up with less responsibility at work, I will have larger blocks of uninterrupted time. All that remains is to put down my phone and pick up my paintbrush or break out my bricks. That part sounds easy, but as most know in these futuristic times, putting down the phone is sometimes difficult.

Baseball

The baseball season must travel a bit before it reaches the dog days of summer, but things are heating up with the weather as the competition gets going. I love watching the Cleveland Guardians play, especially as they are a young team finding their way. Excitement abounds with each game as different players step up each game with a direct impact. Far from being a “one-man-show”, the Guardians showcase a true team effort. I’ve also been watching the Texas Rangers some, and the Boston Red Sox, as I always love seeing the always iconic Fenway.

Speaking of Fenway and the Red Sox and traveling: I am going to Fenway in-person this summer! Towards the end of July I am taking a trip to Boston to take my dad (who is a huge Red Sox fan) to finally experience all that baseball has to offer in one of the oldest baseball towns in America. This is going to be a really fun trip! We will also be able to visit the U.S.S. Nautilus, which is now a museum in Connecticut, but was once a key part of the US NAVY, aboard which my grandfather served for many years as an engineer. I very much look forward to seeing the first submarine he ever served on, and get a glimpse into what his journey under the sea might have been like all those years ago. Other highlights include meeting up with an old friend (possibly two), seeing some of my wife’s family I’ve yet to meet, and being a tourist. We still need to plan a few details, but I am getting more excited for the trip each day.

Challenges

I still can’t read. I feel sad about this, as reading has been a huge part of my life for a long time, but focus and motivation to read remains absent from me. I recently purchased Patrick Stewart’s memoir Making it So but have yet to crack the cover. I have other books I would love to re-read, or explore further. Maybe as my physical health, and as an extension my mental health, improves I will be able to try to read again. I did recently read through the audiobooks of the Lord of the Rings with my wife, a thoroughly enjoyable time that gave me new insights into the story that I want to dig into academically in the future, but again, finding the mental impetus to do so remains difficult.

An aside, of sorts, here: when I do have time, I don’t reach for a book. Part of it is an irrational feeling of not being allowed to. I feel as if I would be wasting the time spent reading, even though I know time spent reading is never wasted. I don’t know why this is, especially when I usually spend the time I would be reading doomscrolling on my phone or playing Scrabble instead. It might mean just taking the plunge, but that is a leap I’ve yet to make. If I am going to sit around anyway, I may as well be reading instead of scrolling social media.

I know the world, and my country, is much not good right now, but I cannot carry that burden myself. Yes, I am deeply concerned, scared, and angry about what my government is actively doing to so many innocent people, but I feel for me, right now, the best resistance is to deny the evil-doers the ability to darken my soul. The best resistance I can mount is to live a good, positive life. That is how I defeat, not with hate, but with love, and love starts with loving myself. I cannot pour from an empty vessel, but with a self full of love, I am able to love others and pour into their lives. That is how the way will be won.

All in all, I feel as if I am in a good place in many ways. I want to continue to build on the progress I have made thus far, and see where the future takes me. I have many pursuits on my horizon, and endeavors I would love to reach towards, and journeys to take. It is a wide open summer.

Campfire Stories

Spoilers: all Star Wars media (potentially);
Content Warning: brief mentions of SA

Sam Witwer portrays the voice of Darth Maul in many Star Wars media. Witwer learned from George Lucas, creator of Star Wars, and Dave Filoni, the current creative director of Star Wars, about campfire stories within the galaxy far, far away.

George Lucas once addressed the growing inconsistencies within Star Wars to Sam Witwer, as Witwer was portraying Starkiller in the Force Unleashed video games, by imagining that everything in the various films, tv shows, books, comics, and other avenues of storytelling, were all, in a sense, being told around a campfire somewhere in the galaxy. That is perhaps part of why all Star Wars films begin with “a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away” (which itself was referenced in Season 1 of Ahsoka).

In this way, all the details of Star Wars are just salient bits of someone’s tall tale about when Darth Vader used to race pods on Tatooine (Phantom Menace), or that time when little bears beat an entire legion of the Empire’s stormtroopers (Return of the Jedi), or that time when kids accidentally led a group of pirates to their very own treasure planet (Skeleton Crew).

This helps to explain how Han shot first, and then didn’t (A New Hope theatrical release vs current iteration), or how the Death Star II seemed to vaporize, and then didn’t (Return of the Jedi vs Rise of Skywalker), and how all the little real world inconsistencies that creep into a franchise as large as Star Wars could still be reconcilable within the larger tapestry of the story of Star Wars.

I’ve been watching Season 2 of Andor, which is about the “dark times” when the Empire ruled before the events of Rogue One and A New Hope. It is not your uncle’s Star Wars*, full of fast quips and wacky battles, and spectacular visual effects. It is a grounded, realistic, and I hesitate to use the word “gritty” (mostly because that as a term to describe media is becoming trite), but certainly more grim. Case in point, episode 3 of season 2 of Andor features an attempted rape of a key character by an Imperial officer. I doubt George Lucas, who famously and consistently has said he wrote his movies for 12 year olds, would have included such a scene. But it found its way into Andor.

I am not here to discuss the almost-rape scene, which was intense enough to make my wife leave the room and me to mute the tv and look away until it was over, but to make the point that it is obviously a very different Star Wars than the one that includes Jar Jar Binks, C-3PO, and other more ridiculous characters and slapstick comedy. The creators of Andor, no doubt, want to emphasize the evil of the Empire. (I think that was made evident with the smoking skeletons of Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru – 12 year olds did he say?). This era’s broader media is a lot about shock value and “realism”. Look no further than the fantasy series Game of Thrones, the crime show Breaking Bad, or every iteration even of CSI or SVU that is on broadcast tv now. When I was growing up, it wasn’t quite that way, or was just beginning to become so, I guess. It has just now made its way into Star Wars.

Personal opinion: sexual assault never needs to be seen on screen. Grisly murders, either, for that matter. Your opinion may vary, and I know many fans of Andor and other shows feel different. I won’t debate that here.

More broadly, however, I am in favor of the grounded storytelling that Andor represents, as long as I also get my sarcastic smugglers (Han Solo in everything), stomping space pirate droids (Skeleton Crew), and other fun from “far, far away”. I am in favor of all the campfire stories that are told about all the corners of the galaxy, and the adventures that are waiting to be unveiled. I’ve said it before, but I hope I am alive at 90 years old to witness the 100th anniversary of Star Wars, and cognizant enough along the way to enjoy all the campfire stories yet to be told. After all, it’s a large galaxy.

I have been underwhelmed by the general storytelling in Andor 2, but that is just my personal taste. I also don’t much care for Rise of Skywalker, and for a long, long time didn’t appreciate Phantom Menace. Attack of the Clones still is only half a movie, and Revenge of the Sith still has Vader murdering a room of Jedi children (Implied. 12 year olds, did he say?). But to each their own. Empire Strikes Back is still the best, and I love Solo, and various shows. Again, the point is that there is a campfire story for everyone to enjoy. Not your taste? There are other campfires burning bright in the Star Wars galaxy.

This is a lesson I have had a hard time learning, and it goes far beyond Star Wars. I used to hold so much vitriol against the Phantom Menace until I started to love it (mostly). Entertainment does not need to appeal to everyone. This has been a thing for as long as humanity has had entertainment I am sure, sitting around literal campfires munching on wooly mammoth bits and telling stories, but recently people have had such strong opinions about things, then they share those opinions on message boards, social media, and other internet-al things. Sometimes strong opinions help you find your people, other people who feel the same way you do about the Last Jedi, for instance. But that can cut both ways. While some love, others hate, and well, that has consequences when the creators of Star Wars begin to feel unsafe (Ahmed Best), or marginalized (John Boyega), or even thrust out (Kelly Marie Tran).

It easy to say we should all get along, but harder to do it.

Look, I’ve digressed a bit, but back to the campfires: telling stories is good. They don’t all have to be consistent, and what is made for 12 year olds doesn’t have to appeal to 38 year olds, and vice versa. What should matter is that everyone has a place at the campfire, and that we all enjoy some of the stories being told. Maybe some of them are for everyone, and others are for when the 12 year olds go to bed, but all have a place and can be enjoyed. So dim the lights, grab the popcorn, and turn on the campfire that is telling your favorite rendition of Star Wars, a story from “a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…”

*can confirm, am an uncle

Sweet Conflations

I’ve been feeling better.

Part of it has been my poor diet, which I’ve tried to turn around in recent weeks. My mastication habits are almost entirely in my domain to handle, and since starting to handle them, I’ve felt much better. It is amazing to me how something as simple-seeming as food choice can affect an entire life, but it has. For over a year, I haven’t been sleeping well and I’ve been feeling worse: I’ve been lethargic, listless, and weary.

Look, it is hard to engage in doing something when you don’t feel like anything. Now I feel like All-the-Things! I am thankful. I thought that the way to my better self was in denying-self-denial. Articulating that now, I realize how dumb that actually is. I was eating whatever I wanted, more or less whenever I wanted to. Not only was it literally contributing to my sooner end, mentally it was fogging me in.

I hate feeling that way: all fogged up and tired. The past two weeks or more have been a revelation. Mentally I am clearer, physically I am peppier, and holistically, I am better. Even tonight, I made a poor choice, and already I am feeling the effects and I don’t like it. I am more resolved than ever to do different.

I try not to make moralizations out of food choices. I don’t believe cravings are my fault. Sometimes food does look too good to resist, like tonight. But often, choices are in my control and control them I must. The only way out is through, as the old saying goes. I make choices when I am able, and let the rest lay as it falls.

For too long I was conflating the sweet allure of confections with the way to feel good. I am a feelings eater, or was (as it turns out, that is changing quickly). I thought the way to feeling better was to eat what I wanted to eat when I wanted to eat it. It ain’t. (Which may be why my feelings are evaporating from my mouth.) I am happy to finally have a solution. It isn’t the solution I thought, but it’ll more than do.

It isn’t easy, of course, not having that cake, or drinking that soda, or even having a late night snack, but feeling how I feel makes forgoing the sweet choice a more desirable option. “Nothing tastes as good as this feels” is another old saying, and while things really do sometimes taste amazingly, this feels pretty good as well.

I am excited to see what comes next. I have had more gumption, more energy, and more ability to choose to do things. Even now, as I’m writing, which I haven’t done much of lately, I rejoice to have the zest to do so. I’ve written many times before about all the creative excursions I’ve wanted to take, and couldn’t, and now I feel as if I can finally walk those trails and smile in the dappled sunlight.

A Quiet Rage

I’m sitting in my home in the middle of Texas, on a “holy” day, thinking on the evils perpetrated in the name of a god that many in my country claim to follow. An idiotic madman wannabe dictator, with the assistance of a South African Nazi, is turning my country into a hellscape I no longer recognize, helped along by American Christianity. There are pictures of this madman being prayed over in the Oval Office by someone who claims the same faith of many I know.

Innocent citizens are being kidnapped in the street by law enforcement and sent to a concentration camp outside our borders. Medical research that would have saved lives is being defunded and halted. Lies on every topic spew forth from the cesspit of the capitol. Bombs rain down to murder brown people in countries beyond the sea. Unjust war is waged in Ukraine. Genocide is methodical in Palestine, again, in the name of a god many here claim to worship. Many I know would claim separation, but it is difficult for me to discern a difference.

I’m sick of it.

I haven’t said much publicly for several reasons: mostly, I am cowardly. I hide behind pacifism and a desire not to have the FBI (or whatever goons the government might start sending after those who criticize the would-be king) come to my house and disappear me. Also, I am afraid for my job, my livelihood, and my comfort being taken away. How pathetic of me. But when the aforementioned atrocities are being carried out every day in my country, or in my country’s name, or with its consent, how can I remain silent?

I don’t want to ruffle feathers, or have an argument, or engage with the people that support such evil under the lie that our president will save America by making it great again, whatever that even means. Therefore, I have said nothing and done little else. I don’t know what power my voice has. Many millions are already screaming in the streets against the injustice and evil that has risen, so what good will my voice do when added to the din?

I don’t know. But I no longer wish to be counted among those who remained silent while evil reigns. Here I am, speaking out. Maybe I will speak again in the future, I don’t know. I am still plenty fearful that I will face consequences for this little that I am saying. I don’t know who exactly reads this blog, or how they feel about things, or what they may wish to do to me for venturing to have an opinion, but brave little me is deciding on this “holy” day to not care.

If there ever was a Jesus, and if he were god, I wonder that he is allowing such utter black evil be done in his name, seemingly without his rage visiting retribution upon them. If he be risen, as many are joyfully proclaiming today of all days, where is he? Such things are beyond me, but I am done waiting for a god to reach down from heaven and right wrongs. It is up to us to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with each other. That means, to me, not tolerating evil anywhere, fighting injustice everywhere, and loving all regardless of creed, color, gender, expression of love or any other petty “difference” that may be perceived between me and anyone else.

If anything I have said offends you, please, look beyond me to that which I am decrying. I’ve barely scratched the surface of what is going on, and America is doing little to cover any of it up. Much of what I’ve said is public knowledge and public news. Look beyond your pearl-clutching of me, and see what evil is being done to those all around us. Please, stand with me, and speak out. Add your voice. Together, we are stronger and we will not be defeated.

In the end, I believe, as did Samwise the Brave, that this shadow is only a passing thing, and when the sun shines again it will shine all the clearer and stronger. But we must persevere, and endure, and fight back in all the ways we can to defeat the shadow and the evil beneath it. Hyperbole and ridiculous sentiment? Tell that to those languishing in prison for committing no crime. Tell that to those suffering. Tell that to the dead that should be breathing free today but for this evil.

May their memories rise again. May they be risen, indeed.