Category Archives: Writing

“Keep Your Hand On That Plough, Hold On”

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Science has no answers for Multiple Systems Atrophy. Some day it will, but until then, I lean heavily on the humanities for sustenance.

Ian McEwan is on my Mount Rushmore of writers. Presently, I’m reading his most recent novel, What We Can Know. The main character is a former academic caring for her husband who is suffering from Alzheimers. I marvel at McEwan’s ability to evoke that world. A hyper creative, all-world imagination that deeply moves me.

Then, a week ago, I stumbled upon a Robert Plant/Saving Grace Tiny Desk concert. Plant’s voice, at 77, is more bluesy and folksy than rock and roll. Major props to him for continuing to create. And for moving me. Deeply.

Lynn’s hearing is about the only thing M.S.A. has spared. So I shared this song with her. All I know to say to her now is, “Keep your hand on that plough, hold on.”

Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, all them prophets dead and gone
Keep your hand on that plough, hold on
Never been to Heaven, but I’ve been told the streets up there are lined with gold
Keep your hand on that plough, hold on

Hold on, hold on
Keep your hand on that plough and hold on

Mary wore three links of chain, every link was Jesus’ name
Keep your hand on that plough and hold on
The only chains that we should stand are the chains of hand in hand
Keep your hand on that plough and hold on

Hold on, hold on
Keep your hand on that plough, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Keep your hand on that plough and hold on

Hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Hold on, hold on
Keep your hand on that plough, hold on

Paragraph To Ponder

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From an article titled, “In Yellowstone, Migratory Bison Reawaken a Landscape“.

“Tens of millions of bison once roamed North America, grazing on grasslands, forests and plains, from the Great Basin of Nevada to the Atlantic Coast. It is difficult today to imagine the size of herds that are no longer seen; Lakota oral histories gauged herd size by the number of days it took them to pass.”

No mention of North Dakota State football.

On Hiatus

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Since the beginning of the humble blog, I’ve strived to write authentically. Because of her right to privacy, that’s gotten more and more difficult as my wife suffers from a debilitating illness.

I am trying to care for her and am completely overwhelmed. But I don’t feel I can write about it. Maybe at some point in the future. Probably at some point in the future.

For now, in addition to caring for my wife, I’m planning to teach beginning in September. I don’t think I can do right by my wife, my students, and you.

Thank you for reading me and especially to those who took the time to comment from time to time.

Is this the end? I don’t know, time will tell. I’m trying to not plan the future as much, and instead, to live in the present.

Peace out.

Brutally Funny

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A taste of Zoe Williams’s scathing review of Tom Bower’s book, House of Beckham about David Beckham.

“There are much smokier guns in the book, as regards David Beckham’s infidelity, detailed accounts of his text message and travel history with Sarah Marbeck, Celina Laurie, Rebecca Loos, Danielle Heath. All of this is quite historical – the annus horribilis from the institution of marriage’s point of view would be 2004 or, to put that another way, 20 years ago. Perhaps more problematic for the biographer is that it was all already in the public domain, courtesy of many overlapping newspaper reports and in quite granular detail. So without anything from inside the house of Beckham, and almost nothing new from the many women involved, Bower’s is more of an aggregator role. Chat GPT could have done the whole thing faster, with the prompts: David Beckham – erection – sun lounger.”

How To Be More Honest?

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Having blogged for a decade plus, I run the risk of repeating myself. But maybe you’ll forgive me if I come clean about it.

In September, 2018, I started a post titled “What We Get Wrong About Honesty” this way:

That it’s mostly telling the truth to others. But being honest with one’s self is a more essential starting point, and because we lack any semblance of objectivity, far more difficult.

None of us are ever completely honest with ourselves.

Especially as a writer, I want to be more honest with myself, and by extension, my readers. I suspect that starts with more honest internal dialogues.

My older sissy said something seemingly innocuous to me awhile back, that I can’t stop replaying in my head. I was telling her I want to really improve my freestyle swimming, but it’s hard given the years of imperfect muscle memory. I explained that I had checked a book out of the library that broke the freestyle stroke down and had watched lots of youtube vids.

I thought I had made a convincing case that I wanted to improve, I for sure had convinced myself, but when I came up for air, she offered this brutally matter-of-fact reply, “No, you don’t.”

Staggered by her honesty, I forget what came after that.

As soon as I regained my footing, I realized she was right. My efforts to improve were superficial at best. I hadn’t worked with a coach. I hadn’t used video. I hadn’t committed to the drills that help improve one’s catch.

Despite saying I want to improve, my elbows still drop, I still slap the water, and I don’t rotate nearly enough. My stroke is a mess, but that’s not the point. The point is, with no coach, with no video, with no commitment to drills and going slower to eventually go faster, I should stop lying to myself about wanting to improve. I should just accept that my stroke will always suck.

Of course, my shite freestyle doesn’t matter, at all, but the all important question raised by my sister’s “No, you don’t” is what else am I lying to myself about? Surely, lots of stuff of far more consequence.

I may never have high elbows, but can I learn to be more honest with myself, and by extension, you? I don’t know. But I think I’ll try. Just don’t tell my sister.

The First Year Writing Seminar

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Is always evolving. This fall’s iteration. Would you sign up?

The Art and Science of Human Connection—Ron Byrnes, Education

     In this seminar we work together to improve as readers, discussants, and writers while exploring the challenges and rewards of meaningful friendships. Our readings, discussions, and writing overlap with the University’s Wild Hope Project, which asks, “What will you do with your one wild and precious life?” We will be as introspective and transparent as possible as we get to know one another’s stories and draw on history and social sciences to explore what’s most important in life. Among the questions we’ll consider: What makes life most meaningful? How do we want to balance work and individual economic aspirations with recreation and close interpersonal relationships with others? What is easy about making friends and what is hard? How can we be better friends to ourselves and others? And does social media make it easier or harder to build strong interpersonal relationships?

Good Stuff

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THIS is the example to use when teaching alliteration in fourth or fifth grade.

Verne Lundquist, 83 year old sportscaster extraordinaire, who just called his last Masters, exited at the top of his game. I forget which player it was that was getting chewed up by the Augusta, Georgia winds and glassy greens. Not holding back, Lundquist said, “The wheels aren’t just falling off, the rims are too.”

Postscript: More alliteration. This morning, as the trial gets underway, Trump is said to have scoffed, smirked, and slept.