Archive for the ‘Brendan’ Category

March Ex(clusion) — thirtieth day

Wednesday, March 30th, 2022

“There is no chance, and no anarchy, in the universe. All is system and gradation.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
 

It’s been a long time since I read through older posts at this site, but for some reason I came across the astonishing 6 Mombonian Updates from 2007, which document my mother’s heart surgery. I can’t believe how much time I used to spend blogging, compared to the present time frame, but I’m glad I did it, and even more glad that BCA preserves it at XORPH.com (although the few entries the Mombo made at her own subsection are no longer visible, as far as I can tell). It’s seems fitting today to turn the rest of this post over to Joan and her pleasant message after visiting The Grandview:
      “Well, I was with Mombo for 2 1/2 hours this morning. It was a BVE (Best Visit Ever). Jerome is absolutely right. Now is the time to come visit. I got here at 8:30. She was in the dining room finishing up her breakfast. She had eaten a lot and was drinking apple juice out of a cup BY HERSELF. When I walked up she was trying to get it back on her tray without spilling it so I helped her. She said thank you and looked up at me. I said good morning and told her who I was (Joannie). She asked Joan Elaine Dixon? I knew right then we were going to have a BVE. She was more lucid that I have seen her in two years. Either spring has sprung in her brain or the covid fog has finally lifted. We sat in the dining room and had a long conversation. Then we went back to her room and she listened to music while I massaged her feet, legs, hands, and scalp. She complained about her legs hurting so I asked the nurse (James) about the supports for her wheelchair. They were not in her room but he tracked them down. I also asked Tina to let the helpers know that they should be put on if she is going to be in the wheelchair for any length of time. I tried to make some videos of parts of our conversations. Unfortunately the first ones are pretty lousy because I got my head in front of the phone so she could see me, and all you can see is my hair.”
 

Today’s sight bite—  a-b-o-v-e-!-! 

Saturday, March 26th, 2022

 
 
Best
Wishes
to Brendan
and Kat!

 
3/26/22

 

March Ex(clusion) — nineteenth day

Saturday, March 19th, 2022

“He and I hold some different views, which can be painfully stark these days; at the same time, I will always be a person shaped by his art, and by our love for one another.”
– B C Adkins
 

I stumbled upon Brendan’s gesture of sharing a link to my process video. His “rollover aside” both melts and pierces my heart. (Perhaps that’s as accurate a description of real love as I will ever come up with.)

Today’s sight bite— Searching through my little movie, frame by frame, —c-l-i-c-k— until I finally discover an image of me working outside that is probably better than all the other photos from the past five years.

Wednesday, May 3rd, 2017

 

Brendan’s Birthday Comic Strip Artifact
collage artifact by J A Dixon
12 x 7.375 inches
collection of B C Adkins

An Ideal Day

Monday, September 8th, 2014

There are different types of ideal days.
For me, surely today was one of them.

After what may have been the best night’s sleep that I have had in two or three months, I woke up with a cool breeze above my pillow and came downstairs to discover a nutritious breakfast smoothie and a pot of hot coffee to go with it. Thank you, Dana, for getting my day off to such a positive start. TSLA, YHOO, TJX, and FEYE took over from there, when the market opened, and I spent a productive morning managing my active trades for four separate accounts, including the Trust investment. I may have gotten a suitable entry price for a long position in VMW, but only time will tell with that. When the office intercom beeped, I was the beneficiary of a delicious roast turkey sandwich with a bowl of fresh gazpacho. It has been a fine season for tomatoes, and I am still working on getting my fill. Dana said that aging Walie was having one of her most lively days in a long time. After lunch, I noticed a new Ommatidia story by Brendan (which always makes my day), checked email, and worked a bit on my Spotify playlists, now that Marty has me successfully making the transition from Pandora. Some time ago I figured that eventually one would be able to watch any movie or TV show on demand, but I had not expected so soon to see the same be true of music. Yes, I have to listen to commercials now and then, but they are not as obnoxious as those on the Pandora site, since most of the Spotify ads are about the musical offerings themselves. Then it was into the painting studio for another session on the GAB portrait (with a few Danny Darst tunes for good company). I can say that I finally overcame the wall of fear (compliments of an old pal named perfectionism) that became attached to this commission, but now the pressing need is to find a route to the summit by the end of the month. I have pledged to myself to complete the artwork for Greg’s and Lynne’s return from their trip to France. At 4 o’clock, I crossed the street to play chess with the library group: one win, one loss (strangely enough, it usually works out that I beat the people I am capable of defeating and lose to those I am not capable of defeating). Although I rediscovered chess through vision therapy a while back, I am getting more serious about it this year, now that I can regularly match wits with local players right next door. Before I left, I checked out Is He Dead? (I admit that I wanted the Mark Twain comedy primarily to study the engravings by Barry Moser). When I got home I crossed paths with Dana, leaving to meet her spiritual group at the library, and then I jumped back into my yew-trimming topiary project in the front yard. With each passing growing season, it is easier and faster for me to keep them in shape, but more difficult to make significant changes or refinements. Nature will provide an occasional opportunity for a new direction or interesting detour, but it is mostly about keeping the whole effect under control. When the “skeeters” decided it was time to bite my ankles, it was off to Centre for some weight lifting before dinner. Being settled into the gym groove has always been a confidence-booster for me, and that goes back nearly 45 years. Peter Lupus emphasized that 100 twists a day kept his waistline small, although I have not been able to achieve the daily habit yet. In the workout room, I combine strenuous twists with the “ab chair” to manage my own belly, plus a circuit of machines and dumbbell exercises, in addition to the trusty bench press (where is that best buddy to spot me?). As I entered our back door after a brisk walk home, a blend of magnificent odors told me that Dana had been baking up a storm — sourdough bread, chocolate cake, and apple pie! We are preparing to celebrate Marty’s promotion to full-time employment at Hitachi in Harrodsburg. I am not the only member of the household on a roll. Well done, Grandson (and he got an A in his first course at the Technical College). Marty happened to be catching up on sleep (I cannot imagine handling a night-shift + school schedule the way he does), so Dana and I split a Red Hook and enjoyed a bowl of Swiss-chard-lentil soup with raw-tomato-basil-cheese salad. All that was left for me to do was to record my ideal day at this blogsite, and now I am ready to hit the sack. Tomorrow we shall begin again!
 


 

~ N B ~

Thursday, August 16th, 2012

Yesterday I neglected to include something extremely important in my log entry. I forgot to express my thanks to Nephew Brendan for making possible this adventure in blogging, especially now that it is double pronged. Brendan is very humorous and very smart. No, wait… I take that back. It’s more like he has one foot in a parallel universe where all inhabitants are highly creative, have preposterously clever brains, and are insanely hilarious, too. On top of that, he’s quite nice to the rest of us stuck on this side.

Agave Maria

Sunday, December 25th, 2011

Dana prepared an outstanding Christmas brunch for Terie and Marty’s morning visit, enhanced by my “Agave Maria” recipe which utilized the home-made tomato juice that she canned while I was in Michigan. We opened presents afterward, including a new air-combat video game for Marty that we shall properly inaugurate tomorrow during our PS3 Fest here at the Town House. Last night was another amazing Stew Eve gathering, with the Clan Hall packed with “grown-ups.” Only the members of our Louisiana outpost were missing. Brendan was home, and all the Louisville cousins were present. Mingus was pouring an excellent Bourbon Barrel Stout. Jerry R gave me a rifle sleeve for my muzzle loader (which claimed no venison this year), and Jeanne surprised me with a small picture of our mom when our dad first took her fishing. I had no memory of the image. All these details take on a new emotional significance in the wake of Mombo’s diagnosis of Alzheimer’s disease. Everything will change now, and yet everything remains the same as the family pulls together to manage her care, to collectively safeguard her well-being and dignity. God bless us everyone!

~ M A R T Y ~

Friday, June 3rd, 2011

Brendan accepted my guest story and published
it today at his Anacrusis site.

2003 – 2011

Thursday, May 5th, 2011

Brendan concluded his micro-fiction project on Tuesday, after nearly eight years of creative ritual. Some new gigs are certain to fill the vacuum as he enters his fourth decade, and I expect to enjoy the product just as much. Anacrusis has been my Thunderbird home page for a long time. FortadoI don’t expect that to change at this point, but I’ll miss that daily curiosity until I finally get used to it, and yet I fully understand and appreciate his desire for resolution. Except for the rare Fred Rogers or Charles Schultz, few things are forever, and an artist really doesn’t need to explain each transition. Nevertheless, I appreciate the epilogue and accept his word of thanks. As for any debt, I’d say we’re more than even, after so many smiles, throat lumps, and catalytic jolts to my hair-trigger imagination. It’s an awesome body of work worthy of pride, NB, and I don’t doubt that others will be mining it for ideas well into the future. Good luck!

Ripe thoughts

Saturday, March 14th, 2009

March exercise—day fourteen— It’s a rule of thumb that it will rain whenever I need to deliver physical artwork, but I managed satisfactorily to get a new set of engravings over to the Art Center and also had my first chat with the incoming executive director. So, if you need it to rain in your town, just arrange a display of my artwork and that should take care of it. Not you, Brendan; I’m quite sure you get enough precipitation out there, although it would be cool to have some of my art make it to the west coast. I get ideas like that, but there’s often not a lot to back them up. Maybe I missed my chance when I was churning out some interesting collages while Ian was in L.A. Many ideas are fresh and I get right to them. Others hang around so long they become annoying, until I realize it’s me at whom I’m perturbed, for allowing them to rot, or, worse than that, I get sick and tired of chattering about them in my head without any action. Ideas like that are usually disavowed, or I just get fed up and finally proceed with one, invariably pushing away another newer, more stimulating notion that just stands there listening to the other one grumble, “Move aside, buster, I’ve got seniority.”

Today’s sight bite— A black and white print in a plastic holder on the wall, somehow seeming tiny and drab —c-l-i-c-k— but that’s my engraving featured next to the gift shop’s doorway.

Tomorrow— Avoid the lure of Sunday languor and prepare for an ambitious workweek…

Friday treizième

Friday, March 13th, 2009

March exercise—day thirteen— Nothing much to highlight, except that I did finish signing and numbering my two most recent limited editions of wood-engraving prints. A recent “email conversation” with one of America’s most impressive exemplars of the Arts and Crafts style yielded praise for my printmaking. That’s more than enough to keep my enthusiasm intact, but I know I can do even better. When I look at my work I tend to see the flaws. That’s constructive on the one hand, but I think it deters me from being more prolific. I would never want to lose the capacity for a self-critique, but there must be a reliable, practical way to surmount the hesitancy. Perhaps that’s why Brendan enforces his week-day display of creativity. Must we thus trick ourselves? Probably. Indeed, it may be the only way, until habit takes over.

Today’s sight bite— Too large to be called a Yorkie; too small to be called anything else —c-l-i-c-k— Bruce’s friend, Hoosier, negotiates the back steps on his 16th canine birthday.

Tomorrow— Nothing less than the full-fledged matrix…

Measured gains

Thursday, March 5th, 2009

March exercise—day five— Improvements were recognized today on all fronts, but I don’t think I shall personally feel 100% for a bit more time. Bruce was doing a newspaper puzzle (a most welcome sign), but seems more concerned with solving the riddle of his unexpected plunge into such a perilous state. Brendan sent a heartwarming note of support. The County Judge and I secured an appointment in the state capital to visit with Transportation Cabinet people. Attended the reception at the Arts Center, learned more from David F about getting introduced to an art buyer, and met a very good pastel artist from Lexington. After that, Dana went to the New York Philharmonic performance with our Russian friend, Irina, another exceptionally creative individual.

Today’s sight bite— Bruce in his demeaning hospital garb —c-l-i-c-k— sitting on the edge of his bed in conversation with an ever-faithful mother.

Tomorrow— A new attempt at imposing the exercise…

Various & Sundry, part eighty-one

Thursday, November 13th, 2008

 

Pearallel Universe, 2007

Pearallel Universe
John Andrew Dixon
Mixed media collage
25 x 21 inches, 2007
Collection of Saint Joseph Health System

— Month of October workout totals: Swim-3; Bike-3; Run-1; Lift-1; Yoga-0; Pilates-3; Lupus Drills-1

To the heart of the matter
— I believe the latest recommendation for adequate exercise is 30 minutes a day, 4-5 days a week. Although my workouts are longer than that, the totals are falling short by a long shot. Can I get the daily habit back to preserve my health?

More library deprivation
— It’s been nearly a year since the library hauled itself off to the edge of town, and, although I knew it would be a bit of a hardship, I didn’t expect this level of low-grade suffering. Man, had I ever come to rely on that nearby environment for a periodic dose of mind-restoring tranquility—the kind that is unique to a truly fine reading room. I’m thoroughly impressed with the design for the new wing, but Karl told me recently that construction was three-to-four months behind schedule, so now I have no choice except to hang on until spring. I must have that extraordinary place available out my front door again or I shall go mad!

Sweet Owen County
— On Halloween I made my return to Larkspur for another printmaking retreat. It was a special time with creative people whose friendship I value more each year. An exhibition at the vineyards was mounted to honor Wesley’s work, and I was invited to include four of my wood engravings, since he’s had such a profound influence on my development in that medium. I sold one of my remaining proofs of Waiting for Joe, in addition to an unframed print of Penn’s Store, the latter to a collector interested in acquiring examples of my final edition numbers. Now all I have to do is print more limited editions of blocks that I’ve only proofed so far. I managed to complete a small block of a tiger, but was unable to finish during the workshop my larger, more complex engraving of a paddock scene I shot the previous week at Keeneland. It’s my first attempt at engraving a human figure, plus I had to include a horse and a stone wall, too, of course. What was I thinking? When I get it done, I’ll spend a day in Gray’s shop and print another block or two as well. Dana and Lee came up to the winery on Friday night and got to meet Wes and hear Juanita perform. Make no mistake about it—one can develop significant friendships at every stage of life.

Feeling a trifle exposed
— County employees demolished the little retail cottage next door to “put up a parking lot,” and it’s as if somebody yanked my gym shorts down. Whatever meager backyard ambiance we possessed is now lost. Instead, we have more noise, urban light pollution, and litter. I remember the year we held an open house and backyard gathering for Brendan’s graduation from Centre. If I’m not mistaken, that was the summer Carol and Bob came to the Brass Band Festival and spent time with us in the backyard. There are circumstances when a setting is at its peak and one rarely knows it at the time.

Custom built for a guy like me
— In a perfect world, Gene Wolfe might have contacted me to ask, “What type of a story idea would you like for me to develop that would please your singular peculiarities?” He didn’t have to. He wrote Pirate Freedom for his own reasons, and I became the grateful beneficiary without ever having to request “an absorbing tale of spiritual contemplation, time travel, and the golden age of piracy along the Spanish Main.” Unbelievable!

Dr. Quest’s pear-a-power ray
— I finally sold the mixed media piece I called Pearallel Universe. It was completed around the time of the original “March Experiment,” was part of my KOSMOS show, and made it out to New Mexico and back for the SLMM anniversary (but not without sustaining some damage to the frame, which the Albuquerque Museum people were kind enough to repair). It was purchased last week by Saint Joseph Health System to hang at its new ambulatory care center in Jessamine County. A hearty tip o’ the hat to LexArts!

My annual knob stalk
— My pals David and Greg are the sort of knowledgeable gun aficionados that know a bargain when they see one, so I was stunned when they gave me the gift of a 50-caliber muzzleloading rifle they just couldn’t pass up. When I recovered from the shock of their generosity, they taught me how to safely operate it—just in time for me to test it out during our recent Clan gathering, which happened to be the lawful period for using primitive weapons to hunt white-tails. I came as close to the moment of truth as I would that weekend when I cocked the hammer early Sunday morning, as three does crossed Robin Lick and made their way across a hay field, on the garden side of the Irrylynn gully. But something spooked the lead deer about 75 yards from my spot beside a round bale—my scent, the motion of my aim, or perhaps the pattern in my profile. She snorted an alert, danced a bit, and took off in the opposite direction, never presenting me an acceptable shot. As I say, that was the nearest I came to using my muzzleloader while I was in the Valley. Three weeks later I found myself back at Simpson Knob with my Marlin 1894S carbine, full of optimism for a freezer harvest, but I never observed a single deer in the woods, and neither of my two friends had the opportunity for a shot. This gives me a couple more options for success—this weekend at Blue Bank with the 44-Rem. magnum, and another December time slot with the Hawken-style that I’ve decided to name “Girty.” As much as I want to bring home some venison this year, there is nothing like having an excuse to be in the wild knob-lands at daybreak, whatever the outcome.

You’ll never walk alone
— Originally, our Hurray Day events were planned to coincide with the fifteenth anniversary of Dadbo’s passing, but we still wanted to have a family commemoration, even though the quarterly gathering was moved to the previous weekend. I was preoccupied with my tedious progress on the stone flue in the Hall, but I knew Joan was thinking about what to do, which is so typical of her desire to properly plan this kind of thing. We were listening to some old music and the tribute wasn’t on my mind when I suggested she experience Judy Garland’s stirring rendition of the inspirational song from Carousel. I’d never heard that version before, and Joan was out of the room when the CD track played. Had it been up to me, I don’t think I would’ve made the connection, but she realized it would be the perfect accompaniment to our outdoor service. I enjoyed spending some “palsy time” with my “big sis” for those two days, and it reminded me of how distinctive a life-long bond we share.

V & S

Various & Sundry, part seventy-eight

Friday, August 1st, 2008

— Month of July workout totals: Swim-0; Bike-8; Run-2; Lift-1; Yoga-0; Pilates-0; Lupus Drills-0

— In spite of my best cross-training intentions, the season has shaped up to be a one-note story: bicycling. Hmm… a summer without swimming? —preposterous! This means I have only one month to prepare for the challenging waters of the Les Cheneaux.

— For the first time since my appointment as a member of the Kentucky Bicycle and Bikeway Commission, our advisory group was granted a consultation with the Secretary of the Transportation Cabinet. Although we prepared for the meeting with some trepidation about how we would be “handled,” the session went about as well as could be hoped for, given the agency’s history of resistance to bicyclist accommodations. People with long experience in Frankfort view it as a “government within a government,” and our own relations with the Cabinet has been strained, due to our independent spirit, frank recommendations, and candor with the constituencies we are mandated to represent. On top of that, the key position of Bicycle/Pedestrian Coordinator has been vacant since January, and we’ve made no secret of our opposition to any plan to downgrade the job description. I was encouraged by the Secretary’s open-minded attitude and the clear indication that this Administration is beginning to view bicycling as a meaningful component of their strategic priorities for economic competitiveness, health improvement, and tourism promotion. I must admit that, after last year’s election, I’ve struggled to remain hopeful about Kentucky pulling itself out of the bottom ten percent of bicycle friendly states, but on Tuesday I became more optimistic about these new folks running state government. I don’t agree with them on many issues, but they just might be coming around on something close to my heart.

— Ely Dixon is back from Africa, of course, but I’ve decided to leave her blog among my links. Cousin Dan is sharing this Web video summarizing her time in Tanzania. He warns, “The video quality is spotty at times.”

— The only time I witnessed Jon Brasfield in performance, I think I was more focused on waiting for a Brendan bongo solo that never transpired. Later, I came to appreciate Jon’s abilities as a musician, especially after listening to Ghost Town for the first time. Over the past week, my regard for him and his mate Amanda has gone totally off the scale. If you haven’t been following The Saga of Baby Jude, you’ve been missing what has to be one of the most phenomenal feats of blogger poise ever.

V & S

~ kin & kiddoes ~

Tuesday, July 15th, 2008

Everything about this past weekend reinforced my gratitude for being part of an extraordinary clan—and, Man, do we know how to party! It feels a bit dangerous to venture into the kind of entry I’m about to make, because I want to enumerate all my incredible nieces, nephews, and other loved ones, but how can I do that in a partial way? Suffice it to say, “I dig you all,” and I’ll never get enough of a kick out of this extended family. Unfortunately, Bruce had to stay in Danville, but it made me happy to have Terie and Marty attend Nic’s wedding. You could say it was “the night Marty turned cool,” except he already had. It was fun to see how great a circle of friends have coalesced around the Bellarmine crew, including Alyx, Josh, Holly, and Boo. Something makes me think Peat is at the heart of it, and I admire her style. Like her mom, she’s the natural social companion. How nice it was to see Kay, Theresa, and Angela make the trip to Louisville for the celebration. Seth, too, is a constant source of enjoyment, and he astonished me with how considerate he was of his bewhiskered uncle moving in the midst of a bubble of twentysomethings. I urged him to stop at the studio tonight so he could take home one of my wood-block prints (Drivin’ That Train). But, perhaps more than anything, I was so pleased to see the Adkins siblings together. Joan must be indescribably proud of that trio. Caitlan snagged a job within days of jetting from England with her blade and an Oxford degree; Ian is preparing to make his ballistic arc to North Carolina in pursuit of his dream to study marine biology; and Brendan is really coming into his own as an independent talent. Wow, it seems like only yesterday they were all a tangle of squids…

adkins2008.jpg

 
 

Tonight’s essential triviality

Thursday, June 12th, 2008

• Composer Earle Hagen just died of natural causes, a few days short of his 90th birthday. Hagen did orchestrations for Rodgers and Hammerstein and major Hollywood movies before he hit it big with television music. I guess my favorite is the theme he created for I-Spy. Better known for The Andy Griffith Show and That Girl, he will nonetheless be remembered in the annals of Clan Hayride Lore for writing that obscure crowd-pleaser, Rango.

• Now that I’m thinking about television theme songs, I finally realized why I like the intro for Firefly so much: Joss Whedon simply lifted the best musical attributes of Tennessee Stud. All artists steal from each other, right? A long-standing tradition.

• Hmmm . . . now I’m beginning to wonder if Brendan swiped the 8-note melody of A Grandy-bo Christmas Surprise for his new podcast series.

From San Antone to the Rio Grande,
On mountain peak or desert sand,
Every outlaw feared the hand of danger,
This Texas Ranger—
Rango, Rango, Ra-ang-go-o-oh!

n b c a = t c h k

Monday, June 9th, 2008

Well, Brendan has finally gone and done it. He’s found a way to combine most of his favorite talents—music, satirical writing, cartooning, comedic performance, creative collaboration, and your basic web magic. The end product of this fusion? An outrageous repository of droll hilarity known as The Children’s Hour of Knowledge. The site is co-produced with Stephen Heintz, and so far, it has two episodes. I haven’t heard anything quite like this since I listened to “I Think We’re All Bozos on This Bus” by The Firesign Theatre. (And that was 36 years ago—around the time I first started to make landmark journal entries just like this!). Go listen for yourself. Perhaps the best way to end this post is with an excerpt from my nephew’s biographical blurb: “In a perfect world, Brendan would be swiftly hunted down by those determined to keep it that way.”

Various & Sundry, part seventy-five

Friday, May 2nd, 2008

— Month of April workout totals: Swim-2; Bike-6; Run-3; Lift-4; Yoga-0; Pilates-7; Lupus Drills-4

— Most of us own something that we can use to save money and have fun at the same time. When we do, we feel more in touch with the sights, sounds, and smells of our natural environment. It helps us relieve stress, manage weight, and add years to our life. It easily bridges the age gap within our families. It enables us to more directly perceive our urban context. Sound too good to be true? Not at all. You know what I’m talking about. It’s your bicycle. May is here—National Bike Month. Don’t forget to wear your helmet.

— Speaking of bikes, the League of American Bicyclists has named Portland, Oregon a Bicycle Friendly Community at the Platinum level. Portland is the first large city in the United States to gain the designation and joins Davis, California as the only other platinum community in the nation. Combine that news with the side effects of a cross-country solo car trip, and perhaps Brendan will reconsider his conversion to motorist.

— When the idea first came up about attending the “Get Motivated!” business seminar on my birthday, consent was based on the opportunity to personally experience a Colin Powell address. Indeed, the Secretary/General was amazing, but the entire day was far more worthwhile than I was expecting. I found myself equally enthralled with both substance and technique from a heavyweight line-up of highly successful leaders. Here are tidbits selected from my sheaf of scribbles:

 
     “Listen to your dreams, not your doubts.” —Robert Schuller
     “Understand your foundation of passion.” —Krish Dhanam
     “Don’t just learn something new, exploit it.” —Phil Town
     “Focus on an outcome as if it’s already happened.” —Peter Lowe
     “Every yes is hidden behind at least one no.” —Tom Hopkins
     “Transformations begin at home.” —Colin Powell

— Back to thinking about dual-wheelers . . . After two years of presiding over meetings, I’ve stepped down as chair of B.I.K.E. and passed the baton to my friend Steve. It won’t surprise you to learn that I’ll continue to work for greater “bicycle friendliness” here and throughout Kentucky. My hope is that all who have supported my initiative will offer the same level of encouragement to Steve.

V & S

Various & Sundry, part seventy-four

Monday, April 14th, 2008

— As a kid, I think I first heard about Rube Goldberg from Mombo, and, although I never investigated his career in detail, he became another piece of supporting evidence with which I built the notion that I could grow up to be a cartoonist. The other day I was talking to a friend and fellow advisory board member at The Salvation Army HQ and learned he’d just attended the Rube Goldberg Machine Contest at Purdue University, where his grandson is an engineering student. Relying on their solid “home court advantage,” the Purdue team kept the prize at home for the third time in the last four years. My cousin Joe’s daughter, Michelle, goes to school at Purdue, but I’ve never asked him about her area of concentration.

Watchmen is without a doubt the most satisfying “comic book” I’ve encountered since Joan and I discovered the story of “Superman-Red and Superman-Blue” at Pam and Lori’s house back in the 1960s. To call it a comic book will be off-target for those unfamiliar with the Hugo Award winning publication, which TIME Magazine included in its 2005 list of “the 100 best English-language novels from 1923 to the present.” When Brendan found out I’d never seen it, he dropped off a copy during his cross-country road trip. Thanks, NB. You know what I like.

— In less than a month, my level of inner peace, tenuous at best in this stage of life, was shaken twice. First I learned about my Godfather’s death in Ohio, which brought a deep sense of personal loss. I looked over some of his characteristic letters about dogs and gardening and things, traveling north with Dana to represent my Clan at a family service in St. Marys. Then came the aftershock news of Charlton Heston’s demise, a different kind of sadness, having of my own volition attached my spirit to his particular brand of patriotism many years ago. I took comfort in reading again the short letter he sent me around the time of his last public announcement. It was a personal note of appreciation for my having mailed him, over a period of years, a series of handmade birthday greetings. Greater consolation came in a message from my own Godson about my Uncle Don, and the statements Nic and his brother Seth made at Facebook about their regard for Mr. Heston, including recollections of meeting him with some of us who attended his book signing in Lexington. It was heartening to know that men of the next generation will value his enduring contribution to safeguarding the array of civil liberties we enjoy as Americans. Two resolutions honoring Mr. Heston—H.Res. 1091 by Congressman Don Young (R-AK), and S.Res. 512 by Senator Jim DeMint (R-SC)—were introduced this week in the two houses of Congress.

Joan’s blogging has set a recent standard that can only be described as outstanding, and I need to regain my rhythm. Much to report about events in March and my current activities, but the emphasis remains with daily efforts to spin straw into gold. A life engaged in hustling after the next buck just seems to be the governing principle, or, as Mombo used to say when I rubbed the morning “sleepers” from my eyes:
Another day; another dollar…

V & S

Various & Sundry, part seventy-three

Tuesday, April 1st, 2008

— Month of March workout totals: Swim-1; Bike-3; Run-4; Lift-3; Yoga-0; Pilates-5; Lupus-3

— Another constructive “March Experiment” is under my belt, but it may be no longer accurate to call it an experiment. In its current form, the regimen has become more of an annual exercise. Perhaps next time around I shall discover and impose a breakthrough to make it truly experimental again.

— Brendan stopped by today on his way west (Way, Way West), and it felt good to personally wish him Godspeed. He loaned me his copy of Watchmen, and we also talked a bit about The Book of the New Sun. I asked him if he’d packed plenty of listening material. He said he would be playing his CD of a popular presidential candidate reciting “99 Bottles.” (Yeah, that last thing was a lame April Fool’s joke. I got Dana with a much better one this morning.)

— With the price of gold hovering near a generational high, the Graybeard Prospector turned over a new leaf last month, using every trick he could think of to see if he might stake some new claims. In the process, he connected with some new friends and old, including one from the Cincinnati days. His former pal Ray is working on a book with photographs of drive-through expresso shacks, which apparently are a feature of the American Northwest. Based on this information, it looks like Nephew B has hit the trail for the caffeine mother lode. We’ll see if he can stay clean and somber.

Five years ago — 4/1/03
— When will the turning point in the war come, and will we even recognize it when it does? Today the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs made an animated defense of Rumsfeld, Franks, and the war plan, in response to aggressive media criticism. It’s amazing to me how the press is behaving at a time of war… Today Dana and I had lunch at the Carnegie Club, listening to a superb presentation by Vince about the music of Duke Ellington, but a lot of it was autobiographical. He talked more than I expected about his youth and evolution as a musician, as well as his attitude toward teaching—clearly the real passion for him.

Ten years ago — 4/2/98
— The new Mac is sitting on a chair in the conference room, unpacked but unplugged. The workload is just now easing up enough to consider tearing into our current configuration… It’s time for me to set it up. I should be more excited, but I usually feel this way—a bit nervous—when I have to disrupt an existing system. The excitement will come later.

V & S

The DiMaggio of ultra-short fiction?

Sunday, January 27th, 2008

My nephew is really on a roll with his story site right now. Seeing Anacrusis pop up on the screen each weekday is sort of like watching a slugger come up to the plate with a hitting streak on the line. Everybody gets nervous, but the player is out there just doing his job, trying to get some decent wood on the ball.

Hey, I’m only kidding around. Brendan was already in my Hall of Fame long ago, when he turned away from Benedict’s 9 to devote himself to better ideas.

Come on in, the ink’s fine…

Friday, January 25th, 2008

Some things catch me off guard when they shouldn’t, like Brendan’s revelation that my visual style influenced his knack for strong image making. Well, there’s been plenty of artistic cross-pollination occurring within our extended family for quite some time, and his effect on the way I communicate with words has been equally significant—otherwise, nobody could stand reading anything at this site.

gbo2-160.gif Brendan has his own way of describing the contemporary high-contrast style under discussion, but I’ve always called it “graphic illustration.” I’m no scholar, but it certainly has its historical pedigree in the printing arts (the anonymous masters of the 1400s, Dürer, Grien, up through the centuries: Rembrandt, Thomas Bewick, Rockwell Kent, Munch, the Expressionists, the Arts-and-Crafts printmakers, and the Bauhaus designers). Of course, the “look” has been radically influenced by photomechanical techniques (including cinema), and their appropriation by innovative artists and legendary illustrators (Warhol, Glaser, Otnes, Holland, Schwab). Few may give credit to the nameless pulp or movie-poster artists, but they also made their contribution to the style, as did the legendary comic artists, such as Harold Foster and Milton Caniff (genre exemplars of chiaroscuro, who probably had a more formative influence over generations of creative youngsters than the art history books).

I see it all as a moving stream of visual development in Western art, periodically spiced with Asian influences, but always a binary interpretation of how highlight and shadow define form. It’s how a visual decision maker has always tried to give the most simplified illusion of volumetric reality, by the handling of light sources, minimizing modeling, and harshly controlling the equilibrium of figure-ground relationships on a two-dimensional plane, culminating today in the ubiquitous tool of Adobe Photoshop (just as a reminder, I reserve the right, without warning, to squirt India ink in the face of anyone who uses Photoshop as a verb).

Wow, that’s an awfully wordy bit of rambling, and it could really use some editorial refinement. Naah. I’ll just click the “Publish” button instead…