Hey Kids,
I’ve been at the same place of employment for over 23 years.
Starting yesterday and into today, my understanding and vision of the daily process of which I’ve been a part of all of those years, changed.
It’s never too late to take a fresh look at something you thought you knew so well.
NaNoWriMo: 32,397/50,000
Day 270
Hey Kids,
Along with the cooler air temperatures, there is yet another evil lurking in these dark, winter times on the road.
The ice has yet to become black upon the road, and the snow has yet to fall but along the sides of the roads, deer are beginning to gather from out of the hills.
They might look innocent and even resemble their poetically descriptive doe-eyed selves but I tell you they are not so innocent. OK, maybe innocent but not without mischief.
Today I saw two sets of them, just waiting for their chance. Sure they’re cute and they raised those adorable mule like ears at the sound of the motor approaching; but when the sun goes down, they cannot resist walking out and standing on the black top surface.
I love deer. During the day. When it’s dark and I’m on the road with my two-wheeled, two-cylinder noise maker, I am no fan of the Bambi wannabe at all.
NaNoWriMo: 32,397/50,000
Day 269
Hey Kids,
I attended a naturalization ceremony for a staff member today.
It’s the second time that I’ve had the pleasure to do so.
I remember having similar thoughts the last time but this time my thoughts were a little more defined and specific.
The group of new Americans numbered around 120. They represented 47 countries and every continent but Antarctica.
The main speaker was a well-known local news anchor and reporter. She has left television news to pursue her own on-line magazine. She only went through the naturalization process just last year. She shared the story of her family coming from Iraq to Sweden and then eventually landing in the US. Her father is now an engineer and runs his own business.
The MC also welcomed five of the new citizens to speak. A few of them struggled to express themselves in English but they were each proud to try. All five told of their happiness to now be a citizen and the feeling of having endless opportunities and possibilities for them and their families.
I take so much of this for granted. It made me feel like a slacker for not trying harder. And yet pleased and relieved that I live in a place where at forty-nine years of age, my future is still nearly limitless.
An employee used to tell me a saying his daddy taught him.
“I used to complain about having no shoes, until the day I saw the man with no feet.”
I realized today, I have feet and shoes. And always have.
Now get to stepping.
NaNoWriMo: 26,909/50,000
Day 266
Hey Kids,
Back to the Future or Star Wars?
That has been the internet for two days now.
Monday, the full trailer for the new but 7th Star Wars movie aired during Monday Night Football and the internet soon became clogged with replays of it. People started buying tickets for the December release and crashed the sites selling them within 88 minutes.
Today was the date depicted in the movie Back to the Future 2 as the future. Everyone made their comparisons to what the movie saw as our future today and what it is for reals. They were not exactly right.
I’m a little full of the Star Wars and Back to the Future references, although I’m not against either.
But you know what’s really cool?
With so much Jedi and Marty McFly in the timelines, a whole lot of crap got pushed out.
I’m OK with that.
Day 240
Hey Kids,
Don’t cave to peer pressure you know is wrong but do what is right, and it’ll work out for you in the end.
Psalms 1: 1-3:
Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.
But his delight is in the law of the LORD; and in his law doth he meditate day and night.
And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.
The photo was taken of my favorite tree, growing outside of Battle Mountain, Nevada on one of our family trips to Carson City. I hiked from the frontage road, through the sage brush to get the right shot. I had this scripture in mind when I took it. I picked the stickers out of my socks for the rest of the long drive that day. This picture has brought me joy ever since.
Day 34
Sitting in a Carl’s Jr. alone, getting funny looks from the cashiers and cooks, and curious stares from the occasional fellow diners is what writing is all about.
I worked my shift at the day job. Drove to this place. Ordered and ate a quick dinner. Fired up the laptop. And now, drink Dr. Pepper, and write words, and fix words, and caress words until my bladder and spirit can do it no more. Tonight.
And then I’ll start it all over again tomorrow
And when this book is done. I’ll start the next one.
Am I complaining? Nope. It’s my choice. And I love it.
I explain all this only for those who might believe the whimsical writers from the movies who play all day and whip out perfectly worded books, plays, and sound bites on the first draft.
It’s been said, and I paraphrase: The first draft is crap.
And so are the next 3 to 10 drafts. At least for me.
It’s a lonely business. And I think I would have it no other way.
Ingredients all have to be added for a recipe to work as expected. Sometimes it’s good to add or subtract a few things to alter the flavor but it’s best to know what to expect ahead of time. In the process of making a recipe, the order of things is equally inportant.
Making waffles the other morning I noticed that adding water to the batter too dry is a lot easier than adding more flour to the batter too wet.
They might be equally important but the order is not equally easy to adjust.
So goes decisions in life. The order we do things are sometimes more important than the actual things we decide to do.
What is a writer who isn’t writing? A writer still. But not a very efficient or happy one.
I look constantly for the reasons that stop me from writing as much as I want; completing blog posts, editing, writing new stories.
Is it job pressure? Domestic duties pressure? TV? Reading? Depression? Fishing? Baking? Laziness?
Probably all of the above.
But the real killer is really simply not writing as much as I can, should, and most of all, want.
Fear the real killer. Face the real killer. Conquer the real killer.
Sit your butt down and write.
For the second year, I have anxiously looked forward to the “ice-off” at Strawberry Reservoir.
It has been famed and legended that as the long winter’s ice recedes from the shoreline in the early days of the high mountains’ spring, these channels between the shoreline and the darkened ice covered depths, warmed in the direct sunlight, attract small fish in big numbers. And small fish in turn attract hungry big fish.
The legend says these times are the time to find the fish concentrated within casting distance of the shore and eager to take minnow imitations. And as most legends go, the stories are too tempting to not to want to participate. And I, like others, watch for the word, like the beacons of Gondor, to take up our arms and seek the broad-backed, gluttonous, monster Cutthroats of Strawberry Reservoir. Friday afternoon, the torch was lit and on Sunday I arrived at the 7,600 foot elevated lake.
The promise is that so long as your arm can cast and your presentation reaches the water, the fish would be in-line to take your offering. A fish on every cast is what I had been conditioned to expect.
Well, as the day progressed, it became apparent that it would take more than one cast per fish.
I endured the wind, the snow, and the hours of standing on a cold shore, casting in various angles and using various speeds to attract the fish that prowl the slim channels in search of their spring buffet. But these fish do not get large by being caught every spring. They still possess their smart, suspicious hunting prowess.
In all I spent 8 hours for 6 fish landed. Legendary? Not exactly. Worth it? Oh hell yes.
You see in reality, at least for me, the fish made me do exactly what I like to do: to use my own skills. I had to change colors, change speeds, depths, and action. I fished. 6 fish in 8 hours? Yeah, I’ll take that. I’ve done much worse. And the quality of the fish was incredible. All 18-21 inches. All hefty and all hitting the jig with no doubt. They expected a juicy stray minnow and instead were completely fooled.
All my fish landed yesterday returned to the reservoir and are most likely plundering the warm-water-seeking little fish again today. No harm done, but perhaps making them a bit wiser and tougher to catch next time.
In reality, if the fish were as easy to catch as legend promised, there would be many more people there and many more fish removed from the lake. In reality, I’m happy to put in the hours to be rewarded as I was rewarded yesterday. Am I adding to the legend? No. But in reality, that’s a good thing.
This is so right on to how I think about it all, I had to reblog. Writers, take note. Or not. Whatever.
Mike M Jensen 