A speculative mind

This age of pandemic, quarantine, or whatever you want to call it (I think we are going to have to come up with a name for this period. Any ideas?), seems like a good opportunity to write. You are home. Everything is closed so there are no distractions. Well . . . not so much. My job has not closed. I am not working from home. My worksite and hours are pretty much the same as normal. There are less people in my office, as about half of them can work from home. My job doesn’t really allow me to work from home, at least until our IT department decides to let me take equipment home and have full access to the network (not happening). So, there is no extra time for me. But it is still true that there are fewer distractions. My wife and I can’t go to movies or plays, or out to eat. We can’t just pop in the car on a Saturday and go on a road trip to one of our favorite places. So, in that respect, I am spending more time at home. But it is amazing, the human capacity for finding

(Okay, this really isn't about love; I just liked the title.) What are the best ways to keep from going stir crazy in this time of isolation? 1.       Sex: Yes of course, but let’s be honest, even if you are young, sex has its limitations. I mean, you can do it until your parts wear out, but then what? 2.       Reading: Libraries are closed and book stores are closed. So, you are relegated to online shopping (not quite the same as strolling through your local bookstore, but it’ll do for now I guess), and reading the books you already have at your house. This is where I have an advantage. We have enough books in my house to put a sizable dent in a forest. Some are the books my wife has bought and some were bought by me. Some were bought for our son who has now moved away, yet his books (and some other things) are still here, lingering like the scent of burnt rubber at the Indianapolis Speedway, long after the race is over.   So, I find that there are many books in th

Artists are a courageous lot. Some people will poo-poo that statement. After all, they will say, do artists put their lives on the line like soldiers, police officers, firefighters (and now medical workers)? Perhaps not. But there is another kind of courage, a courage to conquer a fear that anyone who has ever gone to school knows all too well. That is the fear of criticism, of rejection, of being looked down upon, of being emotionally abused, of being hated. I am using the word “artists” in the broadest possible form. Artists, in this context includes anyone who produces a creative output. This includes painters, sculptors, composers, writers, chefs, architects, and also performance artists like actors, musicians, and dancers. I am even including people who do not make a living from their art, because they all have to overcome that same fear.   You see, being an artist means you have to be willing to put a piece of yourself out there for the world to see. It could be somethi

Where I live there is a section of town called Nye Beach. In the summertime it is a place packed with tourists. Even in the winter it is bustling with activity. The local residents have many reasons to spend time there: restaurants and pubs that cater to a wide variety of palates, the Performing Arts Center, parks and of course, the beach. Yesterday, I took the above photo, and it was a bit sobering. I have been avoiding talking about the pandemic in my blog. I figured, there is enough talk and news about that for anyone. But then I realized that this is a seminal event in our history. The world is now a different place than it was a couple of months ago. I should talk about it as long as I don’t wallow in it.   In fact, I think I missed a bet by not journaling about this from the beginning. It would be interesting to look back on those journal entries at some point in the future and see what I was seeing and feeling. But I didn’t. I am a fan of the University of Oregon’s