Hey, Mom! The Explanation.

Here's the permanent dedicated link to my first Hey, Mom! post and the explanation of the feature it contains.

Also,

Thursday, December 24, 2015

Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #170 - Box of comics on Christmas Eve

Me and Lori reading comics 1976
I think it's worth noting the Jack Kirby Black Panther comic and the issue of Howard the Duck in the picture above.

Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #170 - Box of comics on Christmas Eve

me and Lori, reading
8-9-1971
Hi Mom,

You remember everything I am about to write, Mom, of course, but for those who read the blog who did not know us growing up, I want to share about our family tradition of a box of comics for Christmas Eve.

Every year, you would wrap presents early, Mom, giving us at least a week (and sometimes more) to shake and ponder the contents of the many packages under the Christmas tree in eager anticipation of that magical December morning.

Christmas 1972
Given my buggy intensity leading up to Christmas, and later Lori's, you would let each of us open one gift on Christmas Eve, which was always a box of comic books. In your estimation, this was the ideal gift, as I would sleep at best from bed time to about 3 a.m. at which point I would wake and need something to do. And so, I would have a box of comic books to read. I wish I had a picture of some of these boxes of comic books or of me reading stacks of comics on Christmas Eve. The picture up top of me and Lori shows comics on the floor nearby, though we are not actively reading them, we had been. But the picture is from November (or before) and not Christmas Eve. But I have some other neat pictures that I will share.

You had a good idea with the box of comics, Mom. Between this tradition, reading to me at bed time, buying little books and comics for me at eat grocery trip, and later my allowance based on the cost of two comic books (a quarter = two 12 cent comics and a penny for tax), I grew up to become a great lover of comic books, which are still (often) magical and beautiful to me.

Thank you, Mom. You changed my life. You instilled in me a great love for comic books.

Christmas 1976
Unwrapping with Mom
 In the above picture, we have begun to go through our stockings from Santa Claus. Mom, you liked order, and so we had bowls to collect our candy and fruit. The large apples and oranges were a Christmas tradition, always one of each in our stocking. As you can see near my side, I have two apples -- a red one and a green one -- and an orange. Mom is helping Lori fill her bowl with the items in her stocking.

Christmas 1976

Taking pictures following the celebration (usually over a week or more later) was also a Christmas tradition. Here's that same Christmas. I am posing with the presents I received. You can see Pong, the first computer video game, in the lower left corner, Mom. And if you look closely, the comics from that Christmas Eve box are spread out from left to right just behind Pong and all along the front of the display. I am holding a magical illusion with three silks that I cannot remember the name of.

With Tim Travis Jan 1976
 Here's a picture of me from January of 1976 (so about 12 months before the Christmas pictured above), probably celebrating my birthday with my friend Tim Travis, assessing my comic book collection. This picture was taken in the spare room in the basement where I could entertain friends and practice my magic. Note that stacks of games behind us. Also, note an issue of Warlock at the far upper left end of the pile. Full circle? I received a shirt with Warlock's picture for Christmas this year in 2015.

My Birthday 1974
Another traditional pose shot following my 1974 birthday (I am 12; Lori is four). All the gifts are mine except the tutu and ballerina case on the far right. That was a gift for Lori, revealing another tradition as we would always receive one present at the other child's birthday so not to feel left out.
Notice the display of comics along the top of that couch. The issue of the Flash that I am holding in the previous picture with Tim is on the far right end of the couch in this picture. Also, in another full circle moment, I received a Morbius t-shirt for Christmas this year (2015), commemorating the comic book seen directly above the Marie Osmond Paper Roses record album.

I think the grouping of presents here is very interesting. There's a ventriloquist dummy that catches your eye, dead center. To the left, there's a watch and its case. Above that, a narrated comic book record album of Batman. A huge '70s mod card. Some books. To the right of the dummy, the aforementioned Marie Osmond album, Lone Ranger and Tonto and some Batman diorama. Above my head, a boxer from the Big Jim collection, Captain America, and Tarzan.

Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.

Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.

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- Days ago = 172 days ago


- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1512.24 - 10:10

Comic books on display - 1976

Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #169 - The Erykah Badu story



Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #169 - The Erykah Badu story

Hi Mom,

I was preparing my dream journal entry from a couple of days ago, which originally featured this picture of Erykah Badu, as she had been a guest star in one of my dreams, when it dawned on me that I had not shared the Erykah Badu story, yet.

So, here it is.

In May (almost exactly two months before your death), I saw that Rickie Lee Jones was performing at the Michigan Theatre in Ann Arbor in July. I asked Liesel if she wanted to go. She declined. I suggested that I may wish to go and take someone else, and she frowned on this idea due to the lateness of my arrival and how I would wake the dog. She asked me if I had seen Rickie before (I have, twice), and so she suggested that I did not NEED to see her a third time. Fair enough.


BUT.

I said, okay, I will let this concert pass unattended, but, let's say that ERYKAH BADU was coming to Kalamazoo. I would have to insist that we go. There's not way I would let that go.

Now, I made this up. I figured it was outlandish. I did not expect Erykah Badu to EVER come to Kalamazoo.

AND THEN, a week later Olivia tells me that ERYKAH BADU is coming to MILLER AUDITORIUM in JULY.

So, I buy tickets. And Liesel is stuck. I told her I would have to insist. Seeing Erykah Badu perform (as I have, twice) was a life changing, transformative experience. She had to go. I also bought a ticket for Ivan after asking if Piper wanted to join us, also after asking Olivia who would work in catering the concert and get to MEET HER!

From the minute, I bought the tickets, Liesel made noise as if she would try to skip out on the concert as she did not want to go, despite the fact that I was insisting and promising it would be an amazing show.

AND THEN, you died Mom. And the concert was scheduled for the NIGHT BEFORE your Memorial Service. In fact, we left the visitation early to get to the concert. I told Liesel that I NEEDED to see Badu as it would help me with my grief and as my wife she had to go with me to be by my side, support me, hold my hand.

Liesel agreed it was a great show, but she does not love Erykah's music as much as I do.

The concert was cathartic for me. I had a good cry or five. I was uplifted. I felt serene. I was at peace. The other two shows I saw were better shows, but Erykah is an amazing performer. I also enjoy the audience who is always very into her shows and her music. Though not transformative like the other shows, this show was the perfect bridge over troubled water from the visitation (not that your body was there to be viewed) to the Memorial Service the next day (not sure why I think that term needs to be capitalized.

Thank you, Erykah.

And thank you, Liesel.


Here's my post about Erykah from my T-shirt blog: T-shirt #86 - Erykah Badu.

Here's a couple of fave songs.



Erykah Badu - Window Seat





Erykah Badu - Back In The Day (Puff), live in Stockholm





Erykah Badu  - "otherside of the game"



Erykah Badu - Hotline Bling ((remix))





She's like a goddess.

Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.

Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.

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- Days ago = 171 days ago


- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1512.23 - 10:10

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #168 - The Grinch




Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #168 - The Grinch

Hi Mom, In an attempt to catch up, (still behind on posts as I am typing on Dec. 26th for the post for the 22nd), here's a t-shirt reprint from 2013.

I am involved in my own Grinch experience as I embarked yesterday on my annual listen of an audio book of "A Christmas Carol," this year a version narrated by Simon Vance.


T-shirt #282 - The Grinch

What do I really need to write about The Grinch that has not been written already?

This shirt is a gift from my in-laws, Mike and Sue Creager. How they knew I did not own a Grinch shirt is a mystery to me.

It goes without saying that like most of America I adore Dr. Seuss and the Grinch. I have read and seen How the Grinch Stole Christmas at least 50 times but probably more.

I could clutter today's entry with additional content, but I want to have a short and sweet one.

In two days, I have seen two movies -- The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug and American Hustle -- at the new Alamo Draft House. I finished two books -- Dune Messiah and East of West. I spent quality time with the wife and our Satchel boo-boo puppy.

I am not feeling grinchy, though, because I am blessed. I feel luckier than anyone on the planet for such riches of love and happiness (and a cancer free body). I am sending vibes of love to those in need.

I am not done with the Christmas season. Work prevents too much preliminary enjoyment and anticipation, so I linger with it. I am pleased that my wife put up our tree on Thanksgiving weekend. But one year, it stayed up until late March (that's on me not her). The season gets busy, you know?

So, not so much extraneous content. Just enjoy the season. And what's more enjoyable than the Grinch (and a couple other related items that come up in the search). And so, three Grinchy videos as well as one by Aimee Mann and a fifth that Aimee Mann covered but here is done by a great children's choir plus, finally, a sixth: "Christmas Time is Here."

The Grinch Song




Aimee Mann & Grant-Lee Phillips - You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch



The Grinch Ending (Original 1966)




"Whatever Happened to Christmas?"



Foundations of the Future Charter Academy SouthWest Campus 
Grade Two students song - "Whatever Happened to Christmas?"
Calgary AB. 2009



A Charlie Brown Christmas - Christmas Time is Here Song



Confession time: I have never seen the Jim Carrey How the Grinch Stole Christmas movie.

COUNTDOWN TO THE END OF THE BLOG YEAR - 83 shirts remaining

- chris tower - 1312.28 - 18:09


Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.

Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.

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- Days ago = 170 days ago


- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1512.22 - 10:10

Monday, December 21, 2015

Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #167 - Scalzi's EIGHT things



Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #167 - Scalzi's EIGHT things you probably didn't know about your favorite holiday music

Hi Mom, I try to avoid copying and "reprinting" (if this is "printing," which it's not) the writing of other people verbatim, though with due credit given. But as I type this on 1512.26, I am five days behind on blog posts and I need some quick content (expect pictures with brief text and some T-shirt reprints to follow). But this is good holiday "cheer" to get the week started. Also, Scalzi had me going with the first two, though I started to tumble that these were not real while reading the second.

8 Things You Didn’t Know You Didn’t Know About Your Favorite Holiday Music

JOHN SCALZI, who wrote the following text, is the author of the blog WHATEVER, linked above, and of many books, including Old Man's War, Locked In, and Red Shirts - A Novel with Three Codas, which won the Hugo for Best Novel of for 2012.

Each year we hear them, we sing them, we love them: The holiday songs of our lives. But how much do we really know about the great music of the holidays? Probably not as much as we think. And thus, to celebrate the holiday season, I am delighted to present to you 8 Things You Didn’t Know You Didn’t Know About Your Favorite Holiday Music. I assure you each of these nuggets of knowledge is just as true as the one before it.

“Let it Snow”

While it is well known that the song was written in 1945 by Jule Styne and Sammy Cahn in July, in southern California, on one of the hottest days of that year, what is not commonly known is that Styne and Cahn both penned the song while sitting in a large tub filled to the brim with ice cubes. “We just couldn’t get it right and we realized that on that day, in that place, we were just too far from inspiration,” lyricist Cahn would write in his 1975 autobiography, I Should Care. “A couple hundred pounds of ice fixed that right up.”

While the inspiration worked, yielding a number one tune and an enduring holiday classic, composer Styne unfortunately suffered a severe case of frostbite and narrowly missed having to amputate three toes on his left foot. He vowed never to work that way again. Cahn, however, used this “immersive songwriting” technique for several other songs, most memorably writing “Three Coins in the Fountain” in an inflatable pool while an assistant trained a garden hose at his head.

“Baby, It’s Cold Outside”

Frank Loesser penned this classic in 1944 and performed it as a duet with his wife at a party, signifying to guests that it was getting close to the time they should depart. However Loesser, whose successes with Guys and Dolls and How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying were still years in the future, repurposed the song for an aborted 1946 musical called That Damned Winter, in which the fictional town of Penobscroggin, Maine was confronted with the worst blizzard in 150 years, leading the formerly placid citizens of the picturesque New England hamlet to engage in violence, murder and ritual cannibalism.

In the play, the song was performed in a plaintive, minor key, with the lead begging his love not to leave, lest she freeze to death in the howling wind outside or alternately be absconded with by the nefarious Tucker family next door, the only Penobscroggin family not to appear to suffer from the icy famine, although several of their neighbors had gone missing. She leaves anyway and disappears, with only a shoe to mark her passing, but in the emotional finale returns alive in the spring, having been sheltered during the winter by adorable woodland animals, which then viciously and hungrily attack the corpulent, slow-moving Tuckers.

Despite an impressive book by playwright Thorton Wilder, That Damned Winter lasted only one performance in an out-of-town tryout in Sacramento, at which several descendants of the Donner Party began a riot during intermission. After the debacle, Loesser, disheartened, burned the score to the play, saving only “Baby,” the rights to which he sold to film studio MGM.

“Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer”

The story of Rudolph is most famously known as a song, memorably performed by Gene Autry in 1949. However, the song is an adaptation of a 1939 poem by Robert L. May, initially written at the behest of the Montgomery Ward department store, which originally published the poem in a coloring book, distributing 2.4 million copies during the holidays. Despite the light tone of the poem, “Rudolph” is known to be a vicious satire of one Rudy Padgett, a contemporary of May’s with whom the writer shared a bitter, lifelong rivalry. The reindeer’s famous red nose is actually a metaphor for Padgett’s alcoholism, with the other “reindeer” (Padgett and May’s companions) laughing, calling him names and refusing to play with him not because of bigotry but because they were mocking his lack of control around booze.

The original ending of “Rudolph” had a soft-hearted Santa letting Rudolph take part in the sleigh team over the objections of the other reindeer, leading to the sleigh being wrapped around a tree, six of the eight traditional reindeer killed and Christmas cancelled, much to the dismay of children everywhere. The executives at Montgomery Ward, however, said that this version was “too dark for a coloring book” and ordered a rewrite, which May grudgingly provided. Ironically and coincidentally, after the publication of “Rudolph,” Rudy Padgett sobered up and became a beloved member of his community, which only seemed to enrage May all the more. “My father would often ask Uncle Bob what the deal was between him and Rudy,” economist Steven Levitt, May’s grand-nephew, once wrote in Slate. “Uncle Bob would only mutter one word, darkly: ‘Pencils.’ We never learned what it meant. It’s become our family’s ‘Rosebud.'”

“White Christmas”

This immortal Irving Berlin tune first became a hit for singer Bing Crosby in 1942 and then in many subsequent years afterward — which became a problem for Crosby, who had initially doubted the potential popularity of the song and said so to songwriter Irving Berlin. Berlin responded by making Crosby solemnly promise at the end of each year to take a shot of whiskey, one after another, for each week the song was on the charts. This required Crosby to down 11 sequential shots of whiskey in early 1943, with subsequent and dangerous whiskey sessions after the ’45 and ’46 holiday seasons, during which time the song returned to #1 on the charts. The song would go on to sell more than 50 million copies.

Realizing the dimensions of the true, cirrhotic danger in which he had placed both Crosby and his liver, Berlin released the crooner from his vow, allowing him to substitute whiskey shots with tokes from a marijuana cigarette instead. This pleased Crosby, who  in the 60s and 70s would advocate for marijuana legalization.

“Little Drummer Boy”

This 1941 tune by Katherine Kennicott Davis has charmed generations with its tale of a young drummer playing his instrument to the delight of the newborn messiah. But this simple tune had a difficult birth, as Davis changed the profession of the little protagonist a number of times before settling on the role of drummer. Davis’ archives at Wellesley College feature early drafts entitled “Little Trumpet Boy,” “Little Ocarina Boy,” “Little Didgeridoo Boy,” “Little Mime Boy,” “Little Short Order Cook Boy,” “Little Public Relations Intern Boy,” “Little Gastroenterologist Boy” and “Little Kid Who Just Wandered By and Was Confusingly Pushed Into a Barn Boy.”

Most of these drafts were only fragments, although Davis completed “Little Didgeridoo Boy” and had it performed for Australian Prime Minister Robert Menzies during a 1964 trip to the United States. Menzies was reported to ask Davis how a didgeridoo happened to be anywhere near Bethlehem in biblical times. Davis would later write disparagingly of Menzies’ “Philistine musical nature” and shoved that version of the song into a box. In 2001, musical artist Madonna was reported to have considered recording the didgeridoo version with herself playing the instrument, but the idea was shelved to avoid offending Australian aboriginal sensibilities. Madonna went on to make the film Swept Away instead.

“Feliz Navidad”

During the 1990 invasion of Panama by the United States, US military forces surrounded the Vatican embassy, where dictator Manuel Noriega had fled, and engaged in psychological warfare with the fugitive leader by blasting rock music, which he loathed. But it wasn’t until US played “Feliz Navidad” on a repeating loop that Noriega finally surrendered on January 3, 1991. In 2004, journalist Guillermo Hernandez, who was part of the US forces who captured Noriega, wrote in Rolling Stone, “His first words as he left the embassy were ‘That f**king song. That f**king song. Why couldn’t you just keep playing Led Zeppelin?'”

Prior to Noriega’s 1992 trial, the former dictators’ lawyers attempted to derail the trial by filing a motion suggesting that repeated playing of “Feliz Navidad” constituted a violation of the Geneva Conventions. The judge, while stating his sympathy for the argument, denied the petition.

“Wonderful Christmastime”

In a 1994 interview with Q magazine on the occasion of the 15th anniversary of the release of the Wings album Back to the Egg, producer Chris Thomas recalled that, after consuming a particularly large vegetarian burrito, Paul McCartney had bet Thomas one thousand pounds that he could write a hit song in the same amount of time it took him to unload his bowels. “I said, ‘you’re on,’ and he went to the loo,” said Thomas. “Five minutes later he came out, went over to the Prophet-5 I had in the studio, and there was ‘Wonderful Christmastime.’ When it hit number six on the British charts, he sent me a note that said ‘Right then, a thousand quid.’ I sent him an invoice for damages to the studio loo caused by his vegetarian burrito, which came to a thousand quid.” Thomas would later recant the interview, under mysterious circumstances.

In 1999, In an NME poll entitled “Explain ‘Wonderful Christmastime,'” 46% of that magazine’s respondents chose the poll option that said that the existence of the song proved there was no God, but that there might be a devil. Another 39% chose the response that said that yes, the song sucked, but at least it didn’t have Yoko on it, a clear reference to fellow Beatle John Lennon’s “Happy Xmas (the War is Over).”

Rumors that George Michael wrote the hit holiday tune “Last Christmas” under similar circumstances are to date unsubstantiated.

“Silent Night”

In the late 1800s, this classic carol, first composed in 1816 by German priest Joseph Mohr, almost fell out of the Christmas canon when an anti-Austrian remnant of the Huguenot church suggested that the lyrics of the carol were not about adoring the Virgin Mary and the infant Jesus, but consuming them hungrily — thus the descriptions of both mother and child as “round” (i.e., deliciously plump) and infant Jesus himself as “tender and mild,” like a good veal. This culminated in 1871 with the scholarly debate at the University of Heidelberg in which it was suggested that any hint of messiah consumption could be explained away as an allegorical reference to transubstantiation. This led to outraged Catholic students burning down the lecture hall.

Eventually the controversy waned, but to this day kinderwurst, a tender, mild veal sausage served en flambe, is a popular seasonal dish in southern Germany.

Merry Christmas!

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Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.

Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.

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- Days ago = 169 days ago


- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1512.21 - 10:10

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #166 - Dreams part three



Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #166 - Dreams part three

** Dates are always the date when I woke not necessarily when I dreamed.

Hi Mom, Here, I am again, in the future. I fell behind on blogging due to final exams and then final grades. That work is all done now, and I here I sit in the future, on Christmas day, five days after this supposedly posted.

And even here in this post that is usually dedicated to MY dreams, I am starting with a dream that Liesel had as it is the most significant of the three dreams described here.

1512.24

So this is Liesel's dream. She is driving you around, Mom, because you wanted to visit your "people." You have some framed wooden thing in your lap with a positive Christian quote in it. You are talking non-stop, and Liesel is wondering who this Marjorie is, as in her experience, you were rather silent. Then later in the dream, she is watching you in the driveway of the old West Gull Drive house. Dad is there, and he looks as he does now, 80-years-old, but you are younger with long, flowing hair and wearing equally flowing robes. Dad is watching you drifting away.

PS: I didn't have the right picture for a woman in flowing robes and long hair (and try doing a Google search on that description!), but this image from The Wicked and the Divine, which I had already shared on this blog popped into my mind, and so here it is again.

Liesel feels you visited her in her dreams, especially because she did not know that you used to talk non-stop in cars, and so that seems to be clear proof of your visit.

I agree.

Here's the other dreams I had been adding to my dream journal, here.



1510.09

As with most dreams, a lot of detail gets lost. I remember a fragment. I almost grabbed my chrome book and wrote this down when I woke, but then, I thought that would wake me more and I would have a harder time getting back to sleep, so I refrained.

Dad wanted me to help him measure something that he could easily have measured himself. I grew very angry with him as he kept asking me to hold the tape measure that did not need holding by two people. I yelled at him that he did not need my help but that I need his help when I was trying to dig the huge hole in the yard that he had asked me to dig, trying to break the hard packed dirt with the spade and not succeeding. "You know I am not a very strong person!" I cried. You were there Mom, in your wheel chair, turned away from us, and crying.



1512.15

Star studded dreams last night featuring Robert Redford and Erykah Badu. In the first dream with Redford, I was staying at his house and working with him on some activist project, but we had not discussed that he was a famous actor. Some nefarious crew was drugging us so we would not notice them traipse through this large club (like a gentleman's club) in their colorful costumes. Once I deduced that we were being drugged, I managed to free myself of the drugs, and I saw a whole line of these costumed villains walking through the Victorian-appointed room and disappearing through a doorway with red velvet curtains, draped in a loop from the top of the door to the top part of either side. Alerting Redford and his (or our or my) lady friend, I managed to stop two of skulkers, and beat them unconscious. Bound and gagged, we traded these two colorfully costumed ne'er-do-wells for one more in the know and one we could learn from. At this point, the dream I shifted or I forget what happened next. Then we were in his house and there was one person trying to kill us. I hid in a closet. But we managed to escape this threat, too. Later, I told Redford how much I enjoyed his work in movies, especially Brubaker, which he claimed he did not remember making. I tried to remember what it was about and claimed it was about a newspaper man and some union squabble. It's actually a prison warden who goes under cover in a prison to learn of the corruption. I also told him that I thought that Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid is one of the greatest movies ever made. We were still drowsy and trying to fight off the effects of the drug. Redford was more interested in discussing our activism projects (something with the environment?) than discussing his movie career.

Later, in a different dream, I am in an awning tent on WMU's campus by Miller. The space is filled with tents as there's some festival going on. I am sitting with a large, black mama, who has some kind of food tent or a tent that offers food but promotes activism. I don't know. She's giving me lots of food in a small towel, fresh vegetables, like egg plant and squash, and wants me to take it back to my car before eating the collard greens and other soul food she's serving. I have some other reason to go to my car, so I take the bundle, and turn to go, and I see Erykah Badu going by, She's in sunglasses and a shiny leather coat, the kind that goes to the knees or just above, and flairs out like a dress and ties or belts at the waist. I stop her to find out what she's doing here at WMU as much as to chat. Is she taking classes? Hosting a seminar? She does have a back pack. I talk to her about how I feel about her music and her art. I share that I took Liesel to her concert and try not to share Liesel's opinions of her. I keep wanting to know why she's here, wanting to meet with her, have more conversations, be her friend, even though there's also a sexual attraction happening (at least with me).

And then I wake up.

Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.

Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.

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- Days ago = 168 days ago


- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1512.20 - 10:10

Saturday, December 19, 2015

Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #165 - Christmas Time is Here


Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #165 - Christmas Time is Here

Hi Mom,

I am behind. I managed some posts during exam week but then FINAL GRADING HELL set in and I am more behind than I have ever been in creating this blog. It is Christmas Eve, Thursday, December 24th as I type this and I am posting for December 19th.

Maybe I lost some momentum because I am sad at posting holiday posts knowing this means you're not here, Mom.

But this will cheer us up: The amazing Daniela Andrade and a cute puppy (though not as cute as mine, so there her is in her Christmas sweater).


Christmas Time Is Here - Daniela Andrade ft. Cutest Dog in the Galaxy




Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.

Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.

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- Days ago = 167 days ago


- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1512.19 - 10:10

Friday, December 18, 2015

Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #164 - Vonnegut's daily routine


Hey, Mom! Talking to My Mother #164 - Vonnegut's daily routine

Hi Mom,

I wanted to be a full-time novelist. I frame the thing in those words because I am a writer. I write. And if blogging counts as publishing, then I publish, daily, in this second year of daily posts (with a year off in between projects).

With my final exam in PreCalculus this morning (even though I am writing this from the future, so it's actually Saturday morning December 19th as I type these words), I am envious of this schedule described by Vonnegut, with whom I have always felt a strong and special connection.

As he describes his own schedule, and describes his morning "work," I know he means writing. And then, when he describes his "teaching" that's other work, but it's not "THE Work."

I envy his schedule.

I wish to have such a schedule.

But I have chosen to return to school to study computer science, which at times seems very wise and at other times seems very foolish. Or as we know because of Quantum Physics, a thing that is both foolish and wise at the same time and neither as well.

In that year between T-shirts and this blog, I was supposed to take the time I found in my day to write the blog and instead do THE WORK (write fiction). That didn't happen. And, really, this blog project, "Hey, Mom" was not planned. But then, like the T-shirts project, it evolved from an unavoidable circumstance. I had cancer and so I decided to write about T-shirts, and then, you died Mom, so I decided to devote myself  to writing to you every day. What will it take to get me to devote myself to writing fiction with such daily dedication?

And so, Vonnegut's daily routine, copied here from Brain Pickings with credit.

Vonnegut's daily routine - Brain Pickings

As a lover of letters and of all things Kurt Vonnegut, I spent months eagerly awaiting Kurt Vonnegut: Letters (public library), which has finally arrived and is just as fantastic as I’d come to expect. What makes the anthology particularly sublime is that strange, endearing way in which so much of what Vonnegut wrote about to his friends, family, editors, and critics appears at first glance mundane but somehow peels away at the very fabric of his character and reveals the most tender boundaries of his soul.

Here’s a taste: In the mid-1960s, Vonnegut was offered a teaching position at the prestigious Iowa Writers’ Workshop at the University of Iowa. His role as long-distance father and husband was propelled by voluminous correspondence with his family, who remained in their Cape Cod residence.

In a letter to his wife, Jane, dated September 28, 1965, he outlines his daily routine:

Dearest Jane,
In an unmoored life like mine, sleep and hunger and work arrange themselves to suit themselves, without consulting me. I’m just as glad they haven’t consulted me about the tiresome details. What they have worked out is this: I awake at 5:30, work until 8:00, eat breakfast at home, work until 10:00, walk a few blocks into town, do errands, go to the nearby municipal swimming pool, which I have all to myself, and swim for half an hour, return home at 11:45, read the mail, eat lunch at noon. In the afternoon I do schoolwork, either teach or prepare. When I get home from school at about 5:30, I numb my twanging intellect with several belts of Scotch and water ($5.00/fifth at the State Liquor store, the only liquor store in town. There are loads of bars, though.), cook supper, read and listen to jazz (lots of good music on the radio here), slip off to sleep at ten. I do pushups and sit-ups all the time, and feel as though I am getting lean and sinewy, but maybe not. Last night, time and my body decided to take me to the movies. I saw The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, which I took very hard. To an unmoored, middle-aged man like myself, it was heart-breaking. That’s all right. I like to have my heart broken.
I will probably write about this link later, but here it is for now, for contrast.

HENRY MILLER'S ROUTINE


Have someone give you a kiss, and tell you that I love you.
Talk to you tomorrow, Mom.

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- Days ago = 166 days ago


- Bloggery committed by chris tower - 1512.18 - 10:10