A Quickie on the Quickies


What the heck am I doing here, anyway?

For the longest time, I sort of made my bread-and-butter on this site these longish, pondering deep dives on whatever.

But lately, I just don’t have the stamina or the focus for all that.

Maybe it’s being 40.

Maybe it’s COVID and everything else going on in the world.

Maybe I’ve just gotten lazy.

Whatever the reason, I didn’t have it in me to sit down and write 1000-plus words about whatever, so I haven’t.

But then, my thoughts about myself turn dark. Writing has sort of become a big part of my identity for the last several years, so to not write … well, that’s an issue, right? After all, I still want to write these little blargs. Even if they don’t mean much to anybody outside of my own skull.

So, maybe my long wandering posts aren’t in the cards right now. But could I do two hundred words? Could I dip my toes in a topic instead of cannonballing into the deep end of overthinking? Hammer out a few words instead of over a thousand on whatever’s in my head?

Yeah, maybe I could do that.

the lord of the rings GIF

So, this is me doing that. This is me putting words one after the other, moving the needle, keeping the momentum going … even if it’s only a teeny tiny bit at a time.

It’s something. And something, most of the time, is better than nothing.

Know what else is better than nothing?

Cat gifs.

nothing GIF

A Quickie about Geeks and Cups


Because I am a geek, my co-workers, colleagues, and students didn’t think it was odd that I got a Star Wars tattoo over the summer.

Because I am a geek, nobody thinks twice about my Doctor Who lanyard or the assortment of posters featuring fictional characters hung up in my office.

Because I am a geek, students are quick to include me in conversations about which Marvel movie is best or which superhero would win in a fight. (I don’t actually know. Marvel movies are great fun but I can’t say I’m super-invested in them, and I definitely for sure don’t know which one would win in a fight — except it would totally be Thor — and I double for sure definitely don’t know anything about the comics, which always disappoints them when they ask.)

Because I am a geek, I pay something of a price when it comes to discussions of real “man things” like football (American) or football (proper) or baseball or, lol, basketball. On these topics I root for my home teams and my alma maters, when I can be bothered, and know virtually nothing of the respective leagues at large.

And because I am a geek, when I lost my Star Wars cup, it was returned to me within a week.

The cup itself isn’t special — it features characters from the second-worst Star Wars movie, after all, and as such I wouldn’t care about it too much — but it was given to me by a student who said, earnestly, that I was like a father to him.

So when it appeared on my desk after going missing for a week, I was pleasantly surprised. I tracked down the colleague who returned it, who said “oh yeah, it said Star Wars, so I figured it was yours.”

REUNITED and it feels so refreshing

Geekiness has its perks.

A Quickie on the Snooze Button


There’s a beautiful line in High Fidelity:

“Did I listen to pop music because I was depressed? Or was I depressed because I listened to pop music?”

To dumbify it a little bit, it becomes:

Does the music we listen to set the mood or does our mood dictate the music we pick?

And to generalize it a bit further, it becomes:

Does our mood dictate our circumstances, or do our circumstances dictate our mood?

I like to think that mood dictates circumstances: that we can choose to think and feel a certain way and thus to take control over how things affect us and how we move through the world. That seems to be mostly true, most of the time.

But it’s not entirely true. Sometimes you can’t put a smile on your face no matter how much you tune up your facial muscles. Sometimes you can’t force yourself to tough it out when you’re totally tapped out.

These thoughts fought for dominance this morning as I pressed the snooze alarm instead of getting out of bed to go on my regular 3-mile run. Days when I run are better days. I’m clearer, calmer, better able to deal with whatever comes. Days I don’t? Less so. So to choose not to run — when I’m awake on time, especially, and just feel like sleeping in — is to choose against the rest of my day.

I know this. And yet I snoozed. Because while I recognize that not running is a mistake, I also know that forcing the effort when you’re tired and beaten down beyond reason and it’s only three weeks into the school year is a mistake.

Was I unjustly and wrongly lazy? Or was I righteously claiming a few precious minutes of recuperation?

Did I let myself snooze because I was too tired to run? Or was I too tired to run because I let myself snooze?

Smash Bill Murray GIF by Groundhog Day

A Quickie from the Dentist’s Office


“It’s a wonder you’re not in more pain,” my dentist said.

I nodded around a mouthful of q-tips and numbing agents, staring vacantly up into a blinding fluorescent ring. “I guess I’m lucky like that,” I meant to say, but it came out more “ahh gehh ahh luhee li fhaaa”.

(I wonder if dentists ever understand anything we say with all their instruments crammed in our mouths, or if they’re just good at pretending to. Or, maybe more likely, we’re so desperate for any semblance of normality and human contact in such a vulnerable moment that we greedily interpret their disinterested nods and “mmhmm’s” for deep empathy. Either way, the dynamic is very strange.)

He nodded absently and went to work with the drill, while I listened to the music of the vibrations inside my skull.

No Thanks, We’ll Just Hope and Pray


They say that God laughs while you’re making plans.

What has been particularly frustrating to me in the United States over the past few months has been watching other nations not only not be affected as gravely as we have been by the pandemic, but watching them get the outbreak under control in relatively short order. This is actually painful to me. It paints the stark picture that things did not have to be the way they are… a thing that’s always true but which is thrown into particularly sharp relief when things in your neighborhood are, to put it bluntly, crap.

And let there be no mistake; things are crap, here. Cases and deaths are at their highest levels and show no signs of slowing. You can’t even say we’re in a second wave; the first wave never stopped, it only slowed down a little bit.

But worse than the way things are is the way people are acting.

I don’t know how it is in other countries, and I am well aware that jerks are in short supply exactly nowhere when humans are involved, and entitlement is by no stretch an American disease. But here in the States — and, I would argue, especially in the South — we have a lot of entitled jerks that are making things very hard for the rest of us, and making it impossible for us to get a handle on the disease, much less get the stranglehold on it that we need for life to go back to normal.

And that’s been the thing. We hear so much and talk so much about things going back to normal, but there are so many problems with that. Two major ones, as I see it.

One is, “normal” is subjective, and whatever “normal” we get back to is not going to be the same “normal” that we left. Yet so many people seem to think that we’re just going to go back to living our lives exactly the same way we were doing in 2019. But we can’t. Even when we get this disease under control (and I’m now convinced that, in America at least, “under control” means we have a reliable vaccine, but we’ll come to that), nobody’s going to forget how quickly and catastrophically things spiraled out of control. Even if you take the factor of the disease out of it, we now have a really good look at how fragile the economy is, how unstable several job classes are (look at all the restaurants closing their doors), and what a rift this has opened up between people socially. “Normal” post-COVID will not look like “Normal” pre-COVID. It just won’t.

Two is, we want to get back to normal, but apparently we’re not willing to work to get back to normal. This may be kind of obvious, but it’s the sort of thing I key in on as a self-proclaimed storyteller and student of character. Look at any story. The hero wants a thing, and that want causes them to do things. Luke wants off his backwater planet, so he leaps at the chance to leave it. The Dude wants a new rug, so he seeks out the other Jeffrey Lebowski for compensation. The progression is usually pretty straightforward, and it usually makes sense.

Here in America, and especially in the South, we want to get back to normal, but so many of us — too many of us — don’t actually want to do anything to make it happen. Again, this is perhaps more of an American problem than it is for many other places in the world, but we are especially concerned with “freedom”, and there is a subset of our population which is not only concerned, but obsessed with freedoms at the expense of anything else. So even though science shows pretty definitively that some measures can be pretty effective in halting the spread (wearing masks, staying home, etc), there are a lot of people (more than I would have guessed) who simply won’t be told what to do. And because these people vote, and mobilize others to vote, very aggressively, we have leaders who think the same way, or who at least perform as if they think the same way (which might as well be the same thing).

Which leaves us with a string of pathetic half-measures against this disease as opposed to forceful, definitive action. Here in Georgia, we don’t require masks to be worn out in public; we only strongly encourage” their use. But you don’t have to be a genius to know that if it’s not required, lots and lots of people aren’t going to do it. (Consider what the roadways would look like if the speed limit were not a legal requirement, but was only “strongly encouraged”. Or if stop signs were only a suggestion.)

And now we are on the precipice of opening schools up again (even though figures in virtually every state are worse than they were when we closed them down back in march). And we get more half-measures. I can only speak for my own area, where we are opening on-schedule, with virtual learning an “option” but not a requirement (most students will be in class a week from today). Masks are “recommended”, but not required. Social distancing will take place where it is “practical”. Fine Arts programs are essentially shut down — chorus classes are not allowed to sing, band classes not allowed to play instruments — but sports are going full-speed ahead. Contact tracing is limited and on the honor system (the county is not doing any testing; if a student feels ill, it’s up to them and their family to get tested — or not, if they don’t feel like it!)

But we are opening up regardless — because we are determined to get back to “normal.”

Problem is, this isn’t normal. School with all these caveats and hedges and limitations isn’t “normal”. This is a patchwork of half-measures, a cavalcade of procedures and guidelines which might sound good on paper or in a sound bite but which begin to fall apart under the slightest bit of scrutiny. Any teacher or parent knows that even under the best of circumstances, a school is a petri dish and students are walking bacteria.

We’re not doing the things that would help us to get what we actually want.

What we are doing is waiting for a miracle.

But I, as a teacher of drama, can assure you: waiting is not action.

Hoping and praying is not action.

Newton’s laws are definitive for describing motion in the universe, but they tend to be true for people too: an object at rest will stay at rest, and an object in motion will stay in motion, until acted on by an outside force.

Waiting, and taking half-measures, is simply wasting time until something bigger and stronger takes action instead of you.

They say that God laughs while you’re making plans.

But while we’re waiting for a miracle, this disease is cackling its head off.