01/28/18

Earlier this month Travis and I had a talk
He told me he planned on moving out in August
The final straw
From living with four friends in college
to three friends in my early 20s
to two friends in my mid 20s
to one friend in my late 20s
to living alone in my early 30s

I've always had this fear that I will look back and say "those were the good old days" I've never wanted to say that in my life. I've always wanted to continue to improve my lifestyle more and more.

I've always wanted the good days to be neither old nor new but now.

I remember in college playing video games with my roommates
Rock band
Halo
Having movie nights with the five of us all burrowed and blanketed in the basement

I remember after college, roommate Christmas, board games on the dining room table, house parties filled with friends and friends of friends. I remember roommates secretly recording Harry Potter books on tape for me. I remember making stupid youtube videos around the house.

But we are all turning 30 this year and somewhere there's an unwritten rule that says we have to grow up and by grow up it means stop doing fun things.

I remember several years back I went sledding with my friend and his two children. It was a lot of young families with their small children. Then in the parking lot rolled up a beater car and out rolled five high school boys and a lot of cardboard. The kids climbed the hill and all went down together like a cardboard bobsled. I remember watching them and thinking about when I did that with Downing and Travis back in high school. I remember how easy it was to make a few calls and gather an entire group of friends to do something as simple as sled down a hill on cardboard.

Now as "grown ups" It's a struggle to get two friends to come out with me to even grab a drink at happy hour. No one seems to have any time and no one seems to want to do the fun things...the things that grown ups don't do, for whatever reason.

In 2015 our "squad" was six friends deep with Downing and Alan a quick 2 hours away
12/20/15
04/17/16
But Brian moved to Seattle
Dain moved to Chicago
Baldygams works every weekend night in the suburbs
The other two are dating twins
They spend their weekends together in the Lorton Lair or out doing double date things

Alan vowing to never leave Cincinnati
and Downing failing to find a decent job in Columbus

Leaves me here
30 and living alone
Like the perfect independent self-reliant American I'm told to be.

But the fact is I want my friends around me more than I want to be self reliant.
I want morning coffee conversations like we use to do at Tibet
I want late night porch beers and Shisha like we had

Now everyone is trying to find or has a significant other.
There certainly isn't anything wrong with finding a partner.
But I worry...not about them having a partner but about who they are
Will this person treat my friend the way they deserve?
Does this person see my friend for who they are? Do they appreciate and encourage the interests and passions of my friend?
Are they what's best for them and will they make my friend a better version of who they are?

I want to see my friends laughing
I want to watch my friends find happiness, find someone to care for and settle down with

I want to listen to how my friends are and I want to hear them happy
Lately it seems we don't talk anymore
I mean we speak words
but there isn't that substance there use to be.
We talk about current events
We talk about politics
Civil rights
Movies
Books
TV
We talk
but we don't say anything

When I finally sat down with Travis, when he told me he was moving out in August the conversation felt tense...it felt awkward.
Like the surface stuff is where we are most comfortable now.

I asked him about the night of my birthday party.
I asked him how he felt when Holly came to Bob's bar a drunk sobbing mess because she saw Jeff and it stirred something inside her.
He seemed defensive and offended I'd ask such a thing

I felt disappointed this conversation was so difficult to have

What happened to the days where friends could ask and say anything?
What happened to when we could easily and comfortably call each other out?

Seems like friends in your 30s aren't friends, they are acquaintances.

It's strange because when we were younger I figured as we grew older together we would become closer and closer as friends. The older we got the more intimate our friendships would grow. But over the decades I've known these guys it seems the opposite is occurring.

It seems like we can't talk to Dain about his life goals and why he keeps moving around the country
We can't talk to Jared about his drinking, or his career goals
We can't talk to Brian about his dating apps being set to teenagers and if he's happy out west.
I wish he never left Columbus
We can't talk to Baldygams about finishing his app idea, and his relationship habits
We can't talk to Travis about the way Holly talks to him, treats him
We can't talk to Downing about why NFL players need to take a knee and how he needs to be more honest with girlfriends he wants to break up with
We can't talk to Alan about his relationship patterns and commitment issues
and I wonder the kinds of things my friends would like to ask me about
The kinds of questions they all wonder behind my back but are too afraid to ask
because our long lasting friendships have turned to distant acquaintances.

My 20s were a lot of fun
Roommates with my friends
Traveling in and outside of the country
Growing and learning with my friends I've known since elementary school

I'm not sure how I feel about my 30s
I know I'll make more money
and I've found the job I love
But what about camping trips with my friends
What about morning coffee on the porch
What about all of us together at the same bar
What about friendship...real friendship.

"The good old days"

Now you're looking at me, and I'm looking at you like a fool
But, you don't know what it feels like

Dean Lewis - Lose My Mind

01/21/18

"But why is it prohibited?" asked the Savage. In the excitement of meeting a man who had read Shakespeare he had momentarily forgotten everything else.
The Controller shrugged his shoulders. "Because it's old; that's the chief reason. We haven't any use for old things here."
"Even when they're beautiful?"
"Particularly when they're beautiful. Beauty's attractive, and we don't want people to be attracted by old things. We want them to like the new ones."
"But the new ones are so stupid and horrible. Those plays, where there's nothing but helicopters flying about and you feel the people kissing." He made a grimace. "Goats and monkeys!" Only in Othello's words could he find an adequate vehicle for his contempt and hatred.
"Nice tame animals, anyhow," the Controller murmured parenthetically.
"Why don't you let them see Othello instead?"
"I've told you; it's old. Besides, they couldn't understand it."
-Aldous Huxley Brave New World Chapter 16

The Platform Specialist

dim dull light
pads stepping lightly across my body
the frigid sensation when a limb breaches the blanket barrier
morning
my blurry eyes attempt to focus without their corrective lenses
turning over she appears, beauty through the blurry
how is she always conscious before me?
Deep in her new iPhone X she turns and smiles
that smile
If only I'd have left my contacts in the painful irritation worth the morning view
She seems to be on at least her fourth task before I've even fully gained consciousness as I try to orient myself
what day is it? What time is it? What's the longest I can stay under these covers with her?
She calls out to her robot maid as the morning news gently fills the room
paws and purrs stir quietly as I shift towards her
trying to find a range my eyes can see without aid
Finally there she is
This moment
I lose myself in her eyes, her skin, my eyes slowly consuming her beauty as if it were breakfast,
beauty is nourishment for the eyes, and they take their meal with purpose and leisure.
Her eyes darting back and forth as they switch focus between mine. Mine take chase attempting to lock with hers.
Between them rests her nose with a low bridge the world's best glassblower couldn't craft something as smooth my eyes scale toward her forehead it beckons my lips and I gladly oblige
"That was an intense look...like the way you looked at me back in August"
My eyes, not quite yet having their fill, cut short by her statement
It is as if as my eyes take in their nourishment hers are looking through them into my chest
we are silent
I feel as if my eyes are speaking what my mouth is much too afraid to say
and her mouth dares me to admit what she obviously already knows
What she can read clearly in my eyes.

"leaving me vulnerable with my door unlocked"

He left long before she told him to walk out the door
He left long before
But all anyone could see, her grasp at happiness
He left long before while he was still in the room
He left in that kind of way we hold in high esteem

Pain nobility
Happiness shame
As long as the outside is put together
no one minds the rotten within the frame

He broke his vows before even the start
She spoke 'enough' and the mob demanded her head
...Until death do us part
It's the only vow we value you said

Like marriage is a marthon
last one standing we dub a "success"
to have and to hold
for better
for worse
for richer
for poorer
in sickness
in health
What if the marriage is the sickness
What if the marriage is the worse
How then does one keep a vow?

He left long before she told him to walk out the door
He left that door unlocked, vulnerable
with a slam and a pointed finger
with focus like a mirror towards those most 'holy' vows

With the strength only found in a woman
she crept up her steps
pressed the knob to the strike plate
her fingers gripping the lock turned it once more
Standing in her home
She began to pick up the pieces
She began to build again
With the strength only found in a Queen
She decorated her interior
She put things the way she intended
The key finally returned, her inside slowly redecorated
With the front door tightly blocked
still left vulnerable and unlocked

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops,
Weakened by my soulful cries?

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.

Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
-And Still I Rise, Maya Angelou 1978

I know it's none of my concern...but it's hard to see her like this. It's even harder when she doesn't let it show because I know that means it hurts all the more. She gave him her key and I'm not talking about to a structure of wood, brick, and drywall...She let him in to a place where his words could cut deeper than a knife and leave scars that will always show. She trusted him and he broke that trust again and again and in that broken trust still demands more from her. This man has taken everything he could from her and still he demands more. Even her cat...and he still demands more. Positioning himself in the victim role he still demands more. Asking to be let back in for her to open those knife scars again without empathy or comprehension of how he has broke his marriage vows.

This woman is stronger than anything I could find within myself.
She still stands tall
She finds a way to not simply get by but she still thrives in her workplace even as he continues to demand more and more of her
She finds strength to continue her education again not simply by means of Cs but As in everything she does even as he demands more and more of her
She finds a way to have a social life despite his attempts to guilt, shame, and demand from her
and she somehow finds the strength to smile that beautiful smile and let the world hear that amazing laugh.
This Queen is stronger than anything I could hope to be.

How can anything but Maya Angelou's poem "And Still I Rise" come to mind when I think about Queen Tem.
She's incredible. She is strong, smart, successful, interesting, funny, beautiful, she is every bit deserving of her self proclaimed title of "Queen" and I mean that.

Greyson Chance - Low

01/15/18

Give Us The Ballot - 1957


Mr. Chairman, distinguished platform associates, fellow Americans. Three years ago the Supreme Court of this nation rendered in simple, eloquent, and unequivocal language a decision which will long be stenciled on the mental sheets of succeeding generations. For all men of goodwill, this May seventeenth decision came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of human captivity. It came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of disinherited people throughout the world who had dared only to dream of freedom.

Unfortunately, this noble and sublime decision has not gone without opposition. This opposition has often risen to ominous proportions. Many states have risen up in open defiance. The legislative halls of the South ring loud with such words as “interposition” and “nullification.”

But even more, all types of conniving methods are still being used to prevent Negroes from becoming registered voters. The denial of this sacred right is a tragic betrayal of the highest mandates of our democratic tradition. And so our most urgent request to the president of the United States and every member of Congress is to give us the right to vote.

Give us the ballot, and we will no longer have to worry the federal government about our basic rights.

Give us the ballot, and we will no longer plead to the federal government for passage of an anti-lynching law; we will by the power of our vote write the law on the statute books of the South and bring an end to the dastardly acts of the hooded perpetrators of violence.

Give us the ballot, and we will transform the salient misdeeds of bloodthirsty mobs into the calculated good deeds of orderly citizens.

Give us the ballot, and we will fill our legislative halls with men of goodwill and send to the sacred halls of Congress men who will not sign a “Southern Manifesto” because of their devotion to the manifesto of justice.

Give us the ballot, and we will place judges on the benches of the South who will do justly and love mercy, and we will place at the head of the southern states governors who will, who have felt not only the tang of the human, but the glow of the Divine.

Give us the ballot, and we will quietly and nonviolently, without rancor or bitterness, implement the Supreme Court’s decision of May seventeenth, 1954.

In this juncture of our nation’s history, there is an urgent need for dedicated and courageous leadership. If we are to solve the problems ahead and make racial justice a reality, this leadership must be fourfold.

First, there is need for strong, aggressive leadership from the federal government. So far, only the judicial branch of the government has evinced this quality of leadership. If the executive and legislative branches of the government were as concerned about the protection of our citizenship rights as the federal courts have been, then the transition from a segregated to an integrated society would be infinitely smoother. But we so often look to Washington in vain for this concern. In the midst of the tragic breakdown of law and order, the executive branch of the government is all too silent and apathetic. In the midst of the desperate need for civil rights legislation, the legislative branch of the government is all too stagnant and hypocritical.

This dearth of positive leadership from the federal government is not confined to one particular political party. Both political parties have betrayed the cause of justice. The Democrats have betrayed it by capitulating to the prejudices and undemocratic practices of the southern Dixiecrats. The Republicans have betrayed it by capitulating to the blatant hypocrisy of right wing, reactionary northerners. These men so often have a high blood pressure of words and an anemia of deeds.

In the midst of these prevailing conditions, we come to Washington today pleading with the president and members of Congress to provide a strong, moral, and courageous leadership for a situation that cannot permanently be evaded. We come humbly to say to the men in the forefront of our government that the civil rights issue is not an ephemeral, evanescent domestic issue that can be kicked about by reactionary guardians of the status quo; it is rather an eternal moral issue which may well determine the destiny of our nation in the ideological struggle with communism. The hour is late. The clock of destiny is ticking out. We must act now, before it is too late.

A second area in which there is need for strong leadership is from the white northern liberals. There is a dire need today for a liberalism which is truly liberal. What we are witnessing today in so many northern communities is a sort of quasi-liberalism which is based on the principle of looking sympathetically at all sides. It is a liberalism so bent on seeing all sides, that it fails to become committed to either side. It is a liberalism that is so objectively analytical that it is not subjectively committed. It is a liberalism which is neither hot nor cold, but lukewarm. We call for a liberalism from the North which will be thoroughly committed to the ideal of racial justice and will not be deterred by the propaganda and subtle words of those who say: “Slow up for a while; you’re pushing too fast.”

A third source that we must look to for strong leadership is from the moderates of the white South. It is unfortunate that at this time the leadership of the white South stems from the close-minded reactionaries. These persons gain prominence and power by the dissemination of false ideas and by deliberately appealing to the deepest hate responses within the human mind. It is my firm belief that this close-minded, reactionary, recalcitrant group constitutes a numerical minority. There are in the white South more open-minded moderates than appears on the surface. These persons are silent today because of fear of social, political and economic reprisals. God grant that the white moderates of the South will rise up courageously, without fear, and take up the leadership in this tense period of transition.

I cannot close without stressing the urgent need for strong, courageous and intelligent leadership from the Negro community. We need a leadership that is calm and yet positive. This is no day for the rabble-rouser, whether he be Negro or white. We must realize that we are grappling with the most weighty social problem of this nation, and in grappling with such a complex problem there is no place for misguided emotionalism. We must work passionately and unrelentingly for the goal of freedom, but we must be sure that our hands are clean in the struggle. We must never struggle with falsehood, hate, or malice. We must never become bitter. I know how we feel sometime. There is the danger that those of us who have been forced so long to stand amid the tragic midnight of oppression—those of us who have been trampled over, those of us who have been kicked about—there is the danger that we will become bitter. But if we will become bitter and indulge in hate campaigns, the old, the new order which is emerging will be nothing but a duplication of the old order.

We must meet hate with love. We must meet physical force with soul force. There is still a voice crying out through the vista of time, saying: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you.”Then, and only then, can you matriculate into the university of eternal life. That same voice cries out in terms lifted to cosmic proportions: “He who lives by the sword will perish by the sword.”And history is replete with the bleached bones of nations that failed to follow this command. We must follow nonviolence and love.

Now, I’m not talking about a sentimental, shallow kind of love. I’m not talking about eros, which is a sort of aesthetic, romantic love. I’m not even talking about philia, which is a sort of intimate affection between personal friends. But I’m talking about agape. I’m talking about the love of God in the hearts of men. I’m talking about a type of love which will cause you to love the person who does the evil deed while hating the deed that the person does. We’ve got to love.

There is another warning signal. We talk a great deal about our rights, and rightly so. We proudly proclaim that three-fourths of the peoples of the world are colored. We have the privilege of noticing in our generation the great drama of freedom and independence as it unfolds in Asia and Africa. All of these things are in line with the unfolding work of Providence. But we must be sure that we accept them in the right spirit. We must not seek to use our emerging freedom and our growing power to do the same thing to the white minority that has been done to us for so many centuries. Our aim must never be to defeat or humiliate the white man. We must not become victimized with a philosophy of black supremacy. God is not interested merely in freeing black men and brown men and yellow men, but God is interested in freeing the whole human race. We must work with determination to create a society, not where black men are superior and other men are inferior and vice versa, but a society in which all men will live together as brothers and respect the dignity and worth of human personality.

We must also avoid the temptation of being victimized with a psychology of victors. We have won marvelous victories. Through the work of the NAACP, we have been able to do some of the most amazing things of this generation. And I come this afternoon with nothing, nothing but praise for this great organization, the work that it has already done and the work that it will do in the future. And although they’re outlawed in Alabama and other states, the fact still remains that this organization has done more to achieve civil rights for Negroes than any other organization we can point to. Certainly, this is fine.

But we must not, however, remain satisfied with a court victory over our white brothers. We must respond to every decision with an understanding of those who have opposed us and with an appreciation of the difficult adjustments that the court orders pose for them. We must act in such a way as to make possible a coming together of white people and colored people on the basis of a real harmony of interest and understanding. We must seek an integration based on mutual respect.

I conclude by saying that each of us must keep faith in the future. Let us not despair. Let us realize that as we struggle for justice and freedom, we have cosmic companionship. This is the long faith of the Hebraic-Christian tradition: that God is not some Aristotelian “unmoved mover” who merely contemplates upon Himself. He is not merely a self-knowing God, but an other-loving God forever working through history for the establishment of His kingdom.

And those of us who call the name of Jesus Christ find something of an event in our Christian faith that tells us this. There is something in our faith that says to us, “Never despair; never give up; never feel that the cause of righteousness and justice is doomed.” There is something in our Christian faith, at the center of it, which says to us that Good Friday may occupy the throne for a day, but ultimately it must give way to the triumphant beat of the drums of Easter. There is something in our faith that says evil may so shape events that Caesar will occupy the palace and Christ the cross, but one day that same Christ will rise up and split history into A.D. and B.C., so that even the name, the life of Caesar must be dated by his name. There is something in this universe which justifies Carlyle in saying: “No lie can live forever.” There is something in this universe which justifies William Cullen Bryant in saying: “Truth crushed to earth will rise again.” There is something in this universe which justifies James Russell Lowell in saying:

Truth forever on the scaffold,
Wrong forever on the throne.
Yet that scaffold sways the future,
And behind the dim unknown
Stands God, within the shadow,
Keeping watch above His own.

Go out with that faith today. Go back to your homes in the Southland to that faith, with that faith today. Go back to Philadelphia, to New York, to Detroit and Chicago with that faith today, that the universe is on our side in the struggle. Stand up for justice. Sometimes it gets hard, but it is always difficult to get out of Egypt, for the Red Sea always stands before you with discouraging dimensions. And even after you’ve crossed the Red Sea, you have to move through a wilderness with prodigious hilltops of evil and gigantic mountains of opposition. But I say to you this afternoon: Keep moving. Let nothing slow you up. Move on with dignity and honor and respectability.

I realize that it will cause restless nights sometime. It might cause losing a job; it will cause suffering and sacrifice. It might even cause physical death for some. But if physical death is the price that some must pay to free their children from a permanent life of psychological death, then nothing can be more Christian. Keep going today. Keep moving amid every obstacle. Keep moving amid every mountain of opposition. If you will do that with dignity, when the history books are written in the future, the historians will have to look back and say, “There lived a great people. A people with ‘fleecy locks and black complexion,’ but a people who injected new meaning into the veins of civilization; a people which stood up with dignity and honor and saved Western civilization in her darkest hour; a people that gave new integrity and a new dimension of love to our civilization.”When that happens, “the morning stars will sing together, and the sons of God will shout for joy.’’

2017 - The Three Evils of Society 1967
2016 - The other America 1967
2015 - Why Jesus Called a Man a Fool 1967
2014 - But if Not 1967
2013 - A speech at Riverside church

01/07/18

Summer Teacher Travel
This week I finally flipped the coin to see where I'll be going for my first summer off as a teacher.
At this point my plan is to explore within the United States in June and abroad in July.

This July 2018 I will be traveling to Iceland.

Next year's coin flip will now be between
Croatia v Machu Picchu

As I mentioned last week I need to sort out some thoughts on football.
Last month I learned that 87% of all people who play football on whatever level have CTE to some degree. In the games current form I cannot support something that entertains me while knowingly damaging someones brain without the hope of repair. I know the players could break a leg or shoulder or whatever and that is part of the risk of playing a contact sport but damaging the brain is an entirely different animal. It cannot be rehabilitated, unlike a bone or a ligament.

If I am going to no longer support football at any level then how am I going to exist in this city. Columbus is a college town with tall buildings...more specifically, a college football town. The whole city stops during Ohio State games...all of my friends love football...everyone who wants to be social during the autumn will want to go to a place that has football on.

I don't want to lose my friends, and I don't want to be that guy that ruins the fun...but at the same time the evidence is very incriminating and I'm not sure I can just shrug my shoulders and say "meh they know the risks and they are getting paid millions/scholarships" Do I go out to bars with games on but refuse to support the game through merchandise and tickets? Do I boycott the whole thing? I don't know but I'm also not sure why the game hasn't been halted by the Surgeon General and the U.S. Public Health Service Commissioned Corps with all of this new evidence being published. After January football will be done for nearly 7 months giving me plenty of time to wrestle with this.

The last week of December was my first week of winter break. During that time I had a holiday house party, drove up to Wauseon, hung out in Chicago with Travis, Brian, and Dain, drove down to Columbus for a night, then I headed to Asheville with Tem Friday December 29th. North Carolina with Tem was nearly perfect. I think the only thing wrong was the weather. An Arctic chill has been covering the United States for the past two weeks. It is still persisting today. I would have liked it to be in the 50s or so during our time. It made our afternoon hike turn into a 30 minute trudge through a cloud surrounded by frigid winds covering the plant life in gorgeous ice and snow.

But the trip was our first real vacation together. 5 hours in a car to North Carolina, trapped in a tiny cabin together after that, then a day spent together in Asheville and the mountains...nearly four straight days completely stuck with each other...and I wanted more... I didn't feel like I wanted time away from her. I didn't feel like I needed space or we were on each other's nerves. I just wanted the weather a bit warmer so I could build her a fire outside and hike around more.

Who is this woman? What is she doing to me? I like being around her...I want her in my life more.
I don't know how I feel about this.

I liked hiking with her as her braids froze.
I liked making her laugh in the Biltmore as I pretended to use the audio tour as a phone.
I liked cuddling up by the fireplace with all the cabin's blankets and pillows.
I liked talking with her and learning more about her relationship with her family.
I liked trying wines with her after the castle tour.
It was a very good trip and I'm still in shock we didn't fight or need some space to ourselves. That's definitely new for me.

After the tour and tasting at the Biltmore we headed for Cincinnati. She even powered through that 6 hour drive like a boss. No stops to stretch her legs, no stops for the restroom, not even to eat...just for gas and then back at it. We met up with Alan and his new girlfriend Jami. First we went to one of his friend's house for a bit. The house was teaming with children, six in all I believe. It was the Baird house. Around 11:15 or so we jumped in a Lyft and headed to 16-bit for midnight.

Exactly one year ago that night Alan and I headed to 16-bit while Brian stayed in with Mara. That night I was drunk and messaging Tem. It's strange to think about where we all were one year ago.
Fast forward to this NYE Tem was with me and Alan had Jami in the same bar getting the same t-shirt now with midnight kisses and Brian all the way in Seattle. Mara randomly at the bar with us. 2017 from bookends.

It was one of the best years of my life. Here's to 2018 being even better.

Oscar Isaac - Never Had