Flying

It's a funny thing flying. I'm believing that a metal contraption the size of a building and the weight of a herd of elephants will get me someplace at a speed and altitude that would wreck my fragile existence if I attempted to fly without the plane.

You sit in a seat built for someone in junior high or late elementary school. I'm 6'4". Typically next to or sandwiched in between people that you may not ever associate with outside of this experience. Not because of prejudice or malice, but because research says you can't handle more than eight close relationships at one time.

In Fight Club, Jack tells Tyler Durden that people he flies with are considered single serving friends. You share an experience one time and never meet them again. Jack makes this assumption because everything on a plane is single serving.

I've flown a lot and hate it. I think I'd rather experience sitting in a class on advanced quantum physics. I hate science just as much as flying, but I could at least stretch out in a classroom.

Right now a young man is seated behind me talking about Christianity to a Jewish man. This plane is full of students on their way back from a missions trip to Kenya. I haven't asked. I just have the intuition of a CIA agent and deductive ability of Sherlock Holmes. Well, maybe the intuition of someone who has read books on CIA agents and the deductive ability of Dr. Watson.

On my previous flight out to North Carolina I sat next to Mr. Celebrity Builder. I have no clue who he is. He sat there with sunglasses on the whole time and held his hard hat. That isn't a metaphor; he literally held his hard hat. He was about as rude as it gets and unpleasant in all interactions.

I have plenty of flying stories to entertain a dinner table for a little while, but that's not the point. What will you do with your moments in life?

Life is a series of journeys. Every time you think you're going to grab your luggage from the carousel you run to your next connecting flight on the journey of life.

I don't consider Mr. Celebrity Builder in the wrong. He seemed to possibly have legitimate issues with sitting next to someone. He kept rubbing his face and fidgeting. Go ahead and call me Watson. Since I have a slight case of OCD and germaphobe conditions I didn't think poorly of him. I attempted to see it from his eyes. I leaned  away from him to make him comfortable. Some would say that is insensitive, but he did seem to settle down. I could tell he liked being touch as much as I do.

Make the most of these single serving friends that you meet in passing. It could be a plane, train, grocery store, or hospital. You, not outside forces, make the best and worst of every moment. What impact will you leave on the salt or sugar next to you?

On to my next flight...

Yours truly,

Dr. Sherlock Watson

Writers Write

I’ve read a lot of books, blogs, posts, and articles on the fact that writers write. That is why I am doing this. I am not an accomplished, world-renowned writer. Yet…

Just kidding. I’m not sure I’ll ever get there, but I enjoy it, and will continue to do it.

     The reason I like that phrase is it is true in everything. Diane Hood recommended Malcolm Gladwell’s book called Outliers. It’s about the story of success. One of the many points in it that I gleaned was the 10,000-hour rule. It’s funny, because before reading this book I had never heard about it. Since I’ve read the book I’ve read three other books reference it.

Now that would be astounding if I were the average American that doesn’t read more than one book a year. Right now I’ve been plowing through about four to six books a month. Not because I have nothing better to do, I just love reading.

     It’s one thing to say you are something, but if you don’t practice it then you are just a poser. Just because I am doing this blog doesn’t mean I consider myself a writer, but I do hope that it makes me a better writer. I’ve written a screenplay. I probably won’t consider myself a screenwriter until I’ve sold one, but I will continue to write them anyway.

I couldn’t have done it on my own. My friend and former roommate in college was my literary editor and collaborator on it. It would have been mediocre at best without him. Another friend from college became my format editor. I learned a lot from them, but have more to learn.

     It’s easy to do something and then move onto the next. But I challenge you to get better at what it is you do and keep working at it.

     That means you should do things to help you along with the process. Things like attending conferences or seminars, getting mentors, practicing, and sacrificing. Don’t ever settle, but push yourself.

You won’t attain perfection. Only one man in humanity was able to do that, but he had a leg up being God. Something may be good; celebrate that, enjoy the moment, but the next day work at making it better. If we don’t look to improve we settle.

     Of course there comes a time when you have to call something good and move on, but don’t be premature in that. It’s hard as a creator, innovator, or collaborator to allow others in and let them take a peek. Don’t take it personal, as they are not knocking you. They are helping. Even when you know that ahead of time you will still have to resist the urge to call them dumb and pull back. Don’t give up; don’t give in. Push on and make it better.

     So here’s this mediocre writer pressing on…

Krankies Coffee

   I have a list of topics I’m going to write about, but I figured I would touch on this since I’m sitting here. You say, sitting here? Where is here?

   Krankies. To which my friends would reply, yes you are sometimes cranky, but what does that have to do with anything?

   Krankies Coffee. In Winston-Salem, NC.

   My friend Andrew Viator is a massive connoisseur of coffee. He’s a connoisseur of other things, but that isn’t necessary for this posting (as Andrew sighs in relief).

   Andrew is a good friend from my days of Southeastern University. He always attempted to persuade me in the gift of Starbucks. I would politely decline his advances, well, sort of politely. But Andrew planted the seed. Or the bean. What have you.

   Fast forward several years and we (with our spouses) went to Washington, D.C. While there we visited Ebenezer’s and Tryst. Tryst is where Andrew introduced me to the Triple Ristretto. The gift to espresso drinkers everywhere.

   You might say what does any of this have to do with anything. Nothing to be exact. But life isn’t exact. In the details you now know that Andrew converted me to real coffee. It just took years to ferment.

   I started drinking coffee in high school. It took tremendous amounts of cream and sugar. In college I was able to wean out the sugar. After college I removed the cream and haven’t look back.

   I don’t look down on those that still require it, but I will say you miss the integrity of the taste. It is an acquired taste. I tried it when I was young because my dad drank coffee every morning. I always wanted to be like my dad (that hasn’t changed much), so I tried it, but just couldn’t do it. I didn’t give up and finally figured out it didn’t need anything added. And here I am today.

   But even that makes me think about how it took diluting something before I could truly enjoy it. I finally got to the true art of coffee, but it took me starting with so many additives. Those additives I thought were making it taste better, but instead it was just making it taste different. I wish I had been able to appreciate it as it was, without distorting it. In all things, see things as they are and don’t add to it. You can’t risk the integrity because of personal pleasure or preference.

   It’s easy to read something or look at something and take from it what you may. But sometimes you have to look a little longer at a picture to figure out why it is beautiful to the one who captured it. If I hadn’t taken the time to sit here and write this I wouldn’t have known that Andrew built some of the tables in Krankies and some of the shelves. He didn’t tell me until I had been here a little while.

   So grab a cup of coffee or whatever drink you enjoy, slow down for a little while, and find something you’ve overlooked or added. Take it away and look at the raw form. You never know what will enlighten you when you least expect it.

Brain Vomit

     In college I had a friend. Surprising to some, I know. By that you would infer the fact that I am an independent, isolationist. In other words, I’m not great with relating to other people. I don’t write that off as it being okay. Don’t get me wrong I try too. I just don’t always succeed. By the grace of God I have a fabulous, gorgeous wife and a beautiful, entertaining daughter.

   So, I start again. In college I had a friend. We would say what we wanted and sometimes it bordered on insanity. We decided to label it as brain vomit.

   I’ve started this as an outlet for my mind and my writing. The heading of this is brain vomit because in all actuality this is going to culminate in whatever comes out of my mind. So you could say that my brain is vomiting.

   I know if my mom ever reads “Brain Vomit” she will think that is disgusting, but there are a lot of things in life that are disgusting. Like the time my little girl went to the bathroom all over me while I was changing her diaper. She wasn’t more than a couple weeks old. Not her fault. Nevertheless, disgusting. You should know that I am a germaphobe and have OCD. My wife says she can still see my face when I walked out of Frankie Jane’s room after the incident. I’m glad I can’t see my face. It was horrifying.

   Let this just serve as an introduction. You now know what you are getting into when you read this. I promise, it won’t all be like an episode of Seinfeld, where it has no reason. But I can’t always guarantee that.

   Until next time…