Tag Writing

Still more time to heal

Michael 7 Comments

Hello strangers. I have missed you all terribly. I feel like I’ve been on a sabbatical since last weekend, except even on sabbaticals, one is allowed to connect with people. I suppose I feel more like I’ve been a retreat, a silent retreat, since last weekend. 

Let me catch you up on my lost week. In 1945, Billy Wilder directed The Lost Weekend. He should have waited 80 years. He’d have had five extra days to explore.

On Thursdays, I re-work some sort of story off that Wednesday’s Uplift. This Wednesday that was A Time to Heal, probable one of the best Uplift posts we’ve done in some time. Perhaps that Diem wrote most of it had something to do with that. Anyway, go read it. I don’t have the energy to visit it here. 

Since the beginning of this week, I’ve not had the energy, particularly mental energy, to post to social media – a shame because almost 80% of ROAMcare’s visitor engagement come from social posts, and also because nearly all of my author site engagement comes from social, and especially this week because Monday was launch day. 

Since the beginning we of this week I have been on a rollercoaster with body temperature, chills, dizziness, and the Casios so when I least expect bout of nausea. But of all the times I’ve missed, it’s been connecting with you. 

I’m happy that I feel strong enough now to typed out these few words. I don’t know how that will last. Will see if I can get back to my regular Monday thing on Monday. Please read A Time to Heal. It’s really good.  And if you’re curious about what writing projects I’ve ignore this week, check out Michael Ross Media. I’d tell you more but now I need a nap. 

Several of those days

Michael 5 Comments

Now that the day is half over (in my time zone), it’s probably time to do something with it. Heaven knows I have a lot I can be doing. But do I really want to? Clearly, the world doesn’t want me to.  And why, you may ask??

I’ve tried several times to get to work on a writing project and Word does not want to cooperate. Odd thing that is. I use a machine based version and every time I open it, it lets me type a sentence or two and then it disappears, just like Scotty beamed it up. Or down. Or somewhere. But not on my screen any more. And of course the autosave doesn’t seem to be doing any better than the native program so I can’t even retrieve the sentence or two.

Pre-orders for Bad Impressions opens today and naturally there’s a glitch, specifically with the hardback version. Fortunately it doesn’t look like any hardcover orders were rejected. Unfortunately it doesn’t look like any hardcover orders were rejected.

I have a conference all later today for an upcoming Toastmasters conference and I’m not looking forward to it primarily because in order to accommodate various people’s schedules, it’s right in the middle of the evening, interrupting my usual dinner hour which seems to be trending later and later because lunch has been trending later and later because my day starting hour has been trending later and later. I said I’m not looking forward to the call primarily for that reason but there really are not secondary or tertiary reasons so I guess I not looking forward to it solely for that reason.

I should be cleaning the deck and putting away things that are put-away-able and covering things that are not so easily put away but because of the brief deluge from yesterday, it will be a good 2 or 3 days before everything is dry enough to consider covering up or storing away.

And those are just the things that I woke up knowing I’d have to/want to/should consider to do. It looks like it’s going to be one of those days several times over. Oh well, tomorrow will be another day. Hopefully not another one of them.

All that’s write with the world

Michael 13 Comments

Yesterday I had my weekly meal with my daughter. We’ve been eating meals together for 30 some years, the most recent few years every Sunday, sometimes breakfast, sometimes brunch, sometimes lunch, occasionally dinner, alternating houses and hosting duties but with only a quarter mile between the two homes, it’s rarely the only time we see each other over the course of a week.

Yesterday was my turn at my house and I prepared a combination of our favorites. Cinnamon roll French toast bacon sliders. They were yummy! (Actually, yummy with about 27 exclamation marks.) Of all the meals I make, and I do all of the big three, breakfasts are my favorite, and I try to make our Sunday breakfasts when I’m making a Sunday breakfast something different. I like breakfast and said someday I should write a cookbook with just breakfasts. My daughter’s answer, “Why not?”

Easy for her to say. She actually makes a living at writing. Creative writing. I mentioned that to her and reminded her that I made my fortune (hahahaha!) as a hospital pharmacist, not as one of America’s literary giants. But then she reminded me I wield a quill as deftly as a pestle. (See. Creative.) And that made me think how much this “scientist” has put down on paper,  or pixelated the screen.

Last week I was re-reading most of the almost 200 ROAMcare Uplift blog posts as we decide which of them will work best in a compilation into book form. (If you’re interested, a couple of my favorites are Listening for Love, and Friend is Another Word for Love. Yes, there is a theme there.) Most of those posts are around 500 words and some of them have been recycled but we figure that’s abut 90,000 words written, and although a collaborative effort, I do the bulk of the writing.

Then there is this thing, the quote unquote personal blog, that I’ve been hammering at for 12 years, 8 months, and 4 days. Untold number of words, some intelligent. (One of my many favorites here is Good Things, Small Spaces, a real oldie and still goodie.)

I’ve written about a dozen articles for professional journals, a. short lived newspaper column on, yep, drug stuff (weekly for about 2 years), one novel currently getting more air miles back and forth to publishers than I’ll ever get on a real airline, one short story and a “self-help” book (I hate that descriptor) that I keep revising mostly because in all honestly, they aren’t that good, and one of what I hope will be my legacy.

That donation to society is trip through my life tentatively titled Long Shots and Miracles, based on a presentation I do that describes me battling 3 potentially life-ending conditions in the span of 20 years with the power of prayer (I let the doctors battle with medical know-how, I battled with prayer). To give you a flavor of that, this is usually how I close. ‘The doctors have their theories, I’ll stick with mine. But you tell me, what do you think. Am I just luckier than most or am I a living miracle, proof that prayers are answered. You have a 50/50 chance of getting it right. I’m sticking with the Miracle Worker. That seems to be the sure thing.’ Popular among church organizations and just breaking into “survivor” groups.

I also speak on other topics but before I do I write them out completely, as if they would be read. (I found it’s how I best edit myself.) Oh, and once I wrote a letter to the editor.

Is there a point to all this? No, not really. If you are reading this, you are a writer. If there must be one, I’d say the point is that everyone can be whatever they want to be, no matter when they decided to be it, nor what they started out to be. I think as humans, an area we lag the rest of nature is that of adaptability.  We spend much too much time and energy doing things that don’t make us happy or add to our contentment (yes, they are different things), and we justify it too often with “that’s what I’ve always done,” or “oh I could never do that.” The only things you can never do are the things you won’t ever do. (Oh, that would make a dandy sampler!)

So there’s my point. If I can do it, anybody can. Even if I’m not all that good at it. You might be better at whatever you decide you want to be after all this time.

Or then again, I could just be pointless. And that’s okay too.

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Learning all we can for as long as we can prepares us for whatever the day may bring. And keeps us happy and healthy! Read why we say “we’re learning, to be happy” in the latest Uplift.

 

The long and the short of it

Michael 12 Comments

I have noticed that my most recent posts are getting shorter.

And that’s all I have for today. Thank you for reading!

Seriously, these posts have been getting shorter. And believe it or not, that’s by design. Since November 2011 I have published 1,050-some of these and some of them were real monsters, one over 1800 words. The last several posts have seen more modest 400 to 500 word counts.

Why the big change? I don’t know. Maybe I realized I don’t have that much to say, and I don’t need 1,000 words to say not much. Or maybe I realized people don’t have time to devote untold minutes to reading my blog posts. Let’s face it, I am not dispensing indispensable information. Maybe a little smile-inducing, head-scratching, or even thought-provoking. Indispensable, imperative, can’t do without? Nah.

If you make the trip to the Uplift! blog at the ROAMcare site, you might have realized those posts with few exceptions fall in the 500-700 word range. By design. The goal is to produce a piece that can be read in two to three minutes. You might also have noticed they tend to ask more questions than they answer. Again, design. We want you to be able to read them in two or three minutes, but we’d like you to think about them for days on end. And hopefully, in a more thought provoking than head scratching way. You decide what is important for you. Taking the most recent post as an example, you probably didn’t find freshly laid goose eggs in your back yard, but it could get you thinking about what wonders you have recently experienced. (Yes, you have. Take a minute and think about it)

Another reason why I’ve taken pains to keep things brief (and yes, they are pains because I can talk and talk and talk and talk for hours and hours on end and beyond), is advice I once saw from one of the master story tellers of our time, Charles Osgood, and finally decided to give it a whirl. (Young people, you have a computer, look him up.) For forty-six years he presented “The Osgood Files” (“Reports and reflections on humankind”). He described his own style as “Short words, short sentences, short paragraphs,” and went on to say, “There’s nothing that can’t be improved by making it shorter.”

Oh boy, was he right! At least as far as my writing goes. Sometimes I think back when I was teaching and to fil the standard college hour (40-45 minutes). I routinely covered so much that my printed notes would fill pages in a notebook. Today, a 30 minute presentation reduced to writing might fill two printed pages. And be more informative. Not to mention more fun!

Sometimes I think as I write fewer words, I find more things to say. But then I read more of other people’s words, and I find I’m saying just enough. I hope you agree and are happy enough with the words I choose.

Are you still wondering about those goose eggs I mentioned? They really are a wonder. You can read about them at The Egg Hunt. What wonderful things might you find in your world?

a Veteran today! - 1

Sugar, slice, and a couple things nice

Michael 13 Comments

It’s that time again. The dustbin of my brain needs emptying. Needs to be emptied? Whichever, it’s time to write out all those random thoughts and make room for new dreck, err, information. This time, though, we have some nice thoughts.

Let’s start with the spicier stuff! Spices.

Last week I made one of my favorite dinners. Oh, let’s be honest with each other. If it has a protein, a vegetable, and a starch, it’s one of my favorite dinners. Let’s call this one instead, one of those dinners I don’t often make and thoroughly enjoy whenever I get around to it, which might be once or twice a year – blackened catfish. When I need a blackening seasoning, I start with a commercial Cajun seasoning and add paprika, black pepper and thyme. As I was mixing my new blend I inadvertently grabbed a jar of “fish crust” instead of thyme. Fish crust is a proprietary blend used and sold by one of the local restaurants. I realized my mistake when greenish granules fell into my mix rather than the expected tannish dried flakes. Uh oh! I looked at what I was holding, glaring at the bottle that so looks like the one holding my dried thyme and asked what it thought it was doing, jumping out of the rack into my hand when I clearly called for thyme. “Dude, chill,” the traitorous container said, or so I imagined, “I got your thyme in me along with some parsley, cilantro, lemon, garlic, and salt. So it might be a little salty when it’s all done with what you’ve already out in there. Add an extra squeeze or two of lemon before you pull the fish out of the pan. Sheesh, do I have to think of everything?” And the bottle was right. It all worked out in the end and was extra yummy good.

Something else happened last week that wasn’t so fishy. Thursday I was working on the ROAMcare Motivation Moments that will hit the Internet over the next couple of months. I was stuck. I had a whole day with nothing to do but write as much as I wanted, and I couldn’t put two words together. I ran out of motivation to continue. You may remember not long ago I wrote here in the RRSB post Motivating the Motivators that I had worried that might happen some day. “There was a time when I thought that eventually we would run out of motivation. ‘Who is going to motivate the motivators?’ I would ask.” But then I confidently followed that up with, “but that thought was fleeting.” Fleeting my eye. Where were all the thoughts now. So I did what I usually do when I need a little extra oomph. I went off to read some old Motivating Moments. Sure enough, I found one to work for me in that moment. Two actually, one right after the other. The first reminded me that, “A good day isn’t just about hitting the high points. It’s about making it through the low ones too!” By gosh by golly, I had done a lot that day. I was just in a low point. I could climb out of it, or just hang around there and do something else until my brain re-opened for business. And if I didn’t, well, I had done a lot of work and there will be motivating moments still for weeks with what I’d already put in the can. And just as I was about to close that window in the computer, another Moment tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Psst, hey buddy. Look at me.” It nearly screamed at me across my screen, “Make the time to remind yourself how good you are.” By golly by gosh, we were right again. A slow point doesn’t make for a failed day. For every day’s disappointing minute, there are 1439 other minutes available to be better. And a few of those minutes, and a bowl of ice cream later, we were back in the writing business.

Shifting gears to something not motivating at all, to one of my favorite gripes – pickup trucks with an extra serving of testosterone. I was in my little roadster stopped at a traffic lights as red as the Miata itself. With all that red, you’d think even a dim witted macho man would know to slow down. A question I ask myself every now and then when I take the little convertible out is should I be wearing a helmet?  The state used to require it of motorcyclists but they ones now who don’t have pretty hard heads anyway. Usually I only get that thought when I’m in a parking lot next to a “look how big my pick(up) is” truck and then it goes away as soon as I encounter intelligent life again. Well at that light, I heard the rumble behind me and saw a monster of a truck coming in down the hill and there I sat, frozen in my seat, looking in the rear view mirror and not seeing the truck’s grill, not seeing its front bumper, but seeing its undercarriage and front end suspension bits! It was lifted so high off the road, it literally could ride right over me!! There was no shoulder to my right and oncoming traffic to my left. And that left me three choices, sit, pray, or get out of the way.  That’s when I shifted gears and red light or not, pulled forward into the intersection, made a quick check to the left, then one to the right, that a glance at the medal clipped to my sun visor that says, “Never drive faster than your Guardian Angel car fly,” apologized to my ever-present but unseen companion, and flew! I was across the intersection and safely on the side of the road when the monster truck hurtled by. I said a quick prayer of thanks and pulled back onto the roadway to continue my leisurely drive. About 2 miles down the road, Mr. Macho was looking down out of the cab of his metal manhood at the top of the nice officer’s head handing over his license, registration, and insurance. Who says prayers are never answered?

Okay, that’s it for this week’s random thoughts. Tune in again next week for another exciting episode of “What will he come up with now?”

Hey, while we speaking of spices, that reminds me about condiments. Did you know people are like condiments? We explain why we think so in the most recent Uplift! It only takes 3 minutes to read. Go ahead, click that link!

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Sincerely yours

Michael 12 Comments

Maybe it’s because of the last few posts I’ve written between the two blogs that had to do with letter writing or maybe because of all the Christmas cards I wrote last week and are receiving and reading this week. Or maybe it’s because I was telling myself to start taking my own advice and in the new year to write real letters to real people. Whatever reason started my musings, I’ve been thinking about the way people sign off on their cards and letters.

Email got the world on the fast track of communication back in a different century. It’s been with us since the early 70s but businesses really took to it as a means of information sharing in the 1990s. Before the calendar turned that really big page onto a new millennium, just about every business in the world was conducting business correspondence by email, and tens of millions of individuals had signed up for personal email addresses.

The earliest email users still followed pretty formal letter writing styles with proper greetings, proper punctuation, full words, and even closings just like, well, just like mail. I know because I was among the earliest email users getting my first exposure to it in 1984. An obvious draw of email was the speed by which ideas could be exchanged. The rapid returns and replies took a toll on some of the niceties. “Yours truly” plus your full name became “Yours” and maybe your initials to just your initials. Today with the ability to pre-format signature blocks, an email is likely to be closed with more information that what might have been on a 1970s business letterhead! But when it comes time for the sender to actually close an email, we’re still struggling with things like “Yours,” or “Best,” or for the higher up corporate officers, “Regards.”

All this has seeped into personal letter writing, such as what still might exist. I look at some of the cards I’ve gotten this week and of the ones that have more than a “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays,” most senders added word or two, usually “Love,” but a couple “Soon” (one with a !), a few “Take care,” and one “Blessings.” (I liked that, and appreciated it too!) But if you told someone they had to use more than 2 words to close a letter, a real letter, not just a card, how would they do it? What would you write? 

If I am going to start writing letters next year I better get on the ball now and figure out how I’m going to close them. What will be my personal sign off? “And you must now consider me, as, dear [sir or madam], your most obliged, and most humble servant,” has a wonderful sound to it but alas, Samual Johnson used it so often it’s become downright trite. But it is certainly better than a curt “Yours truly” or even a “Very truly yours.” But no, I need something somewhere between them.

Some ways I’ve decided I will not end my letters are:

  • Sincerely yours (Of course I’m being sincere! I am writing, aren’t I?)
  • Cordially yours (Of course, I’m being cordial! I am writing, aren’t I?)
  • Affectionately yours (Of course I’m being affectionate. I am writing … oh, never mind.)
  • Respectfully (Really?)
  • Hugs and kisses (Cute, but not for everybody.)

In the running are:

  • Always and forever, profoundly and affectionately, your dear friend
  • With sincere best wishes for your health and happiness
  • Stay well and happy, your dear, loving friend
  • Please forgive my horrible letter writing

I’ll get back to you about what I decide. Until then,

     I remain your humble and faithful servant, yours truly.

If you could do it all over again, would you? Could you? Read why we say you shouldn’t even have to ask if you take time now to review where you are in life and ready a reset for the new year in the latest blog post at ROAMcare.org.

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Calling All Comments

Michael Leave a comment
 
I swear I’m being singled out for some punishment for an infraction I am unaware of. Either that or I (more likely) have done something to my WordPress account without realizing it. You probably wouldn’t have noticed because I’m not a terribly often commentor although when I do I tend to be a verbose commentor, but now I’ve become a non-commentor. Actually I was made a non-commentor but I don’t know who did the making although something tells me it could have been me.
 
I think this might have started around Christmas. I commented on somebody’s post and I would typically get some reaction but I didn’t. I’m sure I didn’t think much about that because it was the holidays and everybody’s life gets a little busier then. It was probably a couple weeks after that I did again and again I didn’t and then I thought “hmmm.” Then yet again and again not and then for sure I thought “well isn’t that the darnedest thing.” 
 
So I explored and discovered the comment I thought with which I commented wasn’t there. And it wasn’t here either. I reentered it carefully making certain to not inadvertently use any forbidden language, the hit the proper keys, then hit the proper keys properly, and then again. . . not there.
 
I was recieving comments. I could respond to comments I received. But I couldn’t and as of yesterday still can’t leave comments. I can live with that as long as you can but it is curious.
 
Now this all has more than just something to do with my inability to express my sentiments over your writing within the WordPress World. (Of course it does.) I was thinking how nice it would be if 99% of the people who comment to news articles in the various interwebs would also have their comments disappear into the miasma. 
 
QuillYou know I prefer printed newspapers over their electronic counterparts but many printed papers aren’t printing either because of limited advertising revenue or limited staffing during the pandemic or just because they don’t want to any more. The thing with the old fashioned printed papers, if you wanted to expand or expound, to clarify or question, or to take umbrage or offense with an article or editorial (back when they were different), you had to pull out the pen and paper or typewriter (Google it) or the word processor and printer, formulate your thoughts, convert your thoughts to writing, consider what you wrote, decide it was worth the price of postage, then put it in an envelope and mail it. Thus a letter to the editor. Typically a well thought, well worded, intelligent letter to the editor.
 
Today, any idiot with a phone, and today every idiot has a phone, can spout out whatever drivel it feels like spouting and “comment” on articles long before it starts thinking. Then some other jackass starts commenting on the comments and then were off to the races. It used to be a source of amusement reading the churlish ramblings of people who clearly failed blocks in kindergarten and hadn’t progressed much since, trying to make what I’m sure they feel are intelligent arguments. Or at least arguments. Today it’s just mean name calling and demonstrations of hatred. 
 
I wish news outlets would do away with the comment option but then some new idiot would say that’s infringing on the freedom of speech. So I am exercising my freedom to not listen and I’m not reading them. I’ve found as a result that I’m happier, my stomach doesn’t get so easily upset, my gums aren’t bleeding, and I swear my hair is coming back. 
 
And to keep things fair, I won’t be writing any comments myself. At least I won’t to any papers using WordPress for their distribution.
 
 
 
 
 

Stop, Thief!

Michael 6 Comments

I bought a book to read and when I read a book I start at the beginning. The very beginning. Prefaces, forwards, introductions acknowledgements, dedications. I also don’t finish until I get to the end if there should be an afterward. (After words?) If is written I will read it.

This particular book I bought, and after reading the forward I’m so glad I did. I say again, and will stress, I bought this book. With money. American made money in an American book store. Yes there are some bookstores left and I still frequent and patronize them.

I’m not in the habit of stealing books. At least I didn’t think so. Apparently this particular author thought differently. In his preface, his 22 page preface, he says, “what happens in libraries in the U.S. is a theft of services on the same scale as the enslavement of blacks.” A strong sentiment that. It was said, er printed, in reference to authors receiving a single royalty for each book bought by a library though lent to “everybody with a library card … twenty-six times in one year, fifty-two times in two years.” Personally I’m glad he expanded that thought just in case my ability to master multiplication failed me at that critical moment.

LibraryIs borrowing a book from a library stealing? I hadn’t thought about it. If it is I am guilty of it hundreds of times over. Of course many of those times were the first time I had read a particular author and it was that exposure that led me to buy hard or electronic copies of his or her other works. But theft of the first book is still theft I suppose. To that unnamed author I apologize and repent. I suppose I can send him a few bucks in restitution although I don’t recall ever borrowing one of his books from the library. In fact, I don’t think I ever saw one of his books in the library but that’s a different story.

He can use those dollars to pay for the paper he probably read at the diner, the magazine he perused at the doctor’s office, the cable fee for the game recap he watched at the barbershop, or the medical advice he asked me for at last year’s Fourth of July picnic. Ok, it wasn’t last year but that really did make a nice flow, don’t you think?

I suppose he was right in his criticism of the lending library system and he has the right to voice said criticism. And what better way. Really. In a book that somebody might have gotten out of library. That will teach them for sure. If they bothered to read the preface.

I have the right to be insulted by his criticism and to express my dismay at being insulted. I bought that book. At full retail. And waded through it even after I was so insulted 17 pages into it. I could have shown him and not finished the book (or even the preface since I still had 5 pages of that to get through) but to be honest I already paid for the book and he surely spent the royalty so why not get my money’s worth out of it.

Now if I can just figure out a way to get my money’s worth out of it.

 

Getting from There to Here

Michael 10 Comments

Last week I noticed I now have over 300 followers, assuming everyone who ever followed still is. A huge assumption that and all that goes with it. Three hundred might not seem like a lot to those who have followers reaching towards four digits. Or it might seem like a lot to those who published their first post sometime this weekend. I know that I’m happy that 300 people think enough of the stuff I push to the Internet to want to know when something new gets pushed there and to me that seems like an accomplishment all in itself.

I got to wondering how the first person who decided to follow my blog even found it. I’ve never published it on any social platform. It’s not linked to a Facebook or Twitter or any other account. I can count on one hand and have at least two fingers left over the number of people I’ve told that twice a week they could read questionably creative ramblings of mine if they so cared. So…how did you come about to be reading this? Inquiring minds and all that, you know.

I follow about a dozen blogs and about another dozen I have loaded onto my browser’s favorites list. I guess that’s not a really great quid pro quo ratio. I’d follow all three hundred of those who follow me but some of the notices I’ve received of a follower don’t include a blog for me to seek to see if I would like a steady dose of their offerings. And in fairness (real or imagined) of all those that I do follow, not all follow me in return. I’m fine with that. I can see myself more interested in someone’s writing and want to follow him or her more closely that that someone might be interested in mine and would prefer to only occasionally peek into my brain, psyche, or whatever corporal component is putting fingers to keyboard that week. You can’t like everything you find crossing your path in life.

Still I wonder why some do, some don’t, and would some others if they even knew that it is available. What makes us like one thing, not like another, and not care enough about some to form an opinion?

Now that I think about it, I should probably stop before I lose the few of you that are still out there. I don’t know if Word Press counts to negative numbers.

That’s what I think. Really. How ’bout you?

 

Sticking With It

Michael Leave a comment

We passed a milestone last month. The Real Reality Show Blog turned 5 years old on November Somethingorother. (It was November 7 but Somethingorother has a more reflective ring to it, don’t you think?) I find that quite amazing that somehow I’ve managed to come up with a mindless topic a couple of times a week every week for five years. Well, almost every week if you don’t consider those times that I was more or less in a coma and not writing much of anything.

Some of the mindless stuff that I’ve brought you shows how notably I’ve mentally deteriorated over those 250 or so weeks. Five years of rambling has resulted in many times of hitting new rambling heights. But of all of those words written might some of them actually made any sense? In the process of trying to answer that I just spent a few minutes scanning some past posts and have come to the conclusion that some of them actually didn’t. I suppose if what I wrote made much sense I would have had a grand career as a journalist. Since I didn’t that should explains it.

But that’s ok. I’ve enjoyed the last five years so I guess I’ll stick with it and keep on posting posts and challenging your sensibilities for maybe even another five years. After all, I have that kind of time.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?