A Dream Less Deferred

As a few of you know I'm an aspiring writer.  I've been published a few times in some fairly popular mainstream magazines, but my real dream is to write a novel and have it brought to print.  I can't begin to explain my drive or motive for doing such.....it's not money or fame; after all, those two things are simply byproducts and fleeting at best. 

Perhaps it has more to do with my passion for expressing myself.  Certainly, if I were musically inclined I'd pursue that interest.  Music, for me at least, is something I've always been enamored with but unable to really "do."  Writing is at least a vehicle for articulating thoughts or dreams in a way that others might appreciate. 

I've been working on a manuscript for a little while now.  The storyline and theme are truly taking shape and I get more and more excited as I write.  Will it be accepted for publication when the time comes for me to submit it?  I have no idea.  What I do know is that Stephen King's first novel, Carrie, was reportedly rejected 150 times before getting picked up by a publishing house.  Now, I don't claim to have one tenth the artistic and writing capabilities of Mr. King, but his personal story at least offers some inspiration to a guy trying to follow in his footsteps. 

Over the past few months I've received some wonderful help and feedback from several people.  My wife Cathy has read a significant portion of what I've written and is excited about it.  For those who know her, you understand that she can be a tough critic, so her positive attitude has been instrumental in my continued push to finish the story.

My friend Thomas has provided some great direction for my protagonist.  As one who has spent a lot of time "over there," his help has been tantamount while I trudge through the mush and mud that are my thoughts.

Kevin has lent a large portion of himself in my protagonist's character development.  Our discussions have been full of insight and laughter and I appreciate everything he's done thus far, and what he continues to do in offering feedback and guidance.

Gary has been a huge motivation for me!  He told me over dinner a few months ago, and has reiterated to me on more than a few occasions, that "writing is re-writing."  I didn't fully understand what he meant by that statement until I began some moderate self-editing.  Several times I found myself asking, "Did I really write this crap?"  Yes, his advice has been spot on. 

But, as I began in this small post, I can't put my finger on why I continue to write and the motivation that has kept me focused on my manuscript for some time now.  Like I said, having a book published is a dream, so I guess that explanation will have to suffice for now until I figure out a way to better articulate it for those who might be interested.  For now, I'll offer only a short poem by Langston Hughes........his thoughts are my thoughts, better served by a man who understood drive and passion.......and expressed them in a beautifully succinct fashion.

Harlem

By Langston Hughes 1902–1967 

   

What happens to a dream deferred?

      Does it dry up

      like a raisin in the sun?

      Or fester like a sore—

      And then run?

      Does it stink like rotten meat?

      Or crust and sugar over—

      like a syrupy sweet?

      Maybe it just sags

      like a heavy load.

      Or does it explode?

Weighing In on Recent Events

All of the noise surrounding the recent events about a reality show on the Arts and Entertainment Network are worth discussing and evaluating.  Most who know me understand that my political slant is pretty conservative.  I think the rule of law trumps most, but common sense trumps all.  I try, most days, to live by Christian values and these values mean forgiveness and love.

As we are all now aware, A&E Network suspended Phil Robertson for stating what he defined as sin in an article written in GQ Magazine.  The U.S. media has created a circus around this issue and many have taken sides--one, pro-Phil, the other pro-A&E's decision.  Many found Phil's comments to be bigoted and vile, others believed he was simply stating his Christian beliefs.

Here's my take on the issue.  I'm a First Amendment man.  In fact, I'm a Constitutional man.  I'm a business man.  I'm a man who loves his family and friends.  I'm a church going man.  So, how do I reconcile the A&E/Phil Robertson issue in my own mind?  It's really pretty easy for me.

A&E made a business decision and I stand by their right to do so.  Yes, I said it.  I stand by A&E's decision to suspend Phil Robertson for making remarks they found controversial that could potentially effect their viewer ratings.  I stand by Phil Robertson's right to state his opinion on a subject (by the way, the question didn't have anything to do with homosexuality or race, it had everything to do with what Phil defined as 'sin').  As a consumer, I stand by my right to not watch A&E again.  That's called free market, and I love it.

Now, many will take that statement as one that supports Robertson and his position.  Before I delve into that, let me say that he wasn't comparing or equating homosexuality with bestiality, although many were quick to say he did.  He was defining, in his mind, what sin is. 

Personally, I think A&E could have handled this situation much differently.  They could have put out a statement stating they did not agree with Phil Robertson and his position, but respect his right to state his personal beliefs in a magazine article.  Instead, A&E caved to a special interest group that pressured them into their knee jerk reaction.  I disagree with what they did, but stand by their business decision.  Does that make sense? 

Now, let me tackle the whole homosexuality/sin nonsense.  This may come as a shock to many of my friends and family, but I'm going to say it anyway.  The Christian Bible is comprised of many books and is divided into two distinct sections.  The two sections are what separate us, in part, from Jews and Muslims.  The Old Testament defines many things that God frowned upon when dealing with his creation: mankind.  Original sin, murder, incest, homosexuality, bestiality, idolatry, etc., were listed as things God didn't want and smote individuals and cities accordingly if they broke his laws. 

Enter Christ and the New Testament and significant controversy abounds!  Christ preached love and forgiveness.  He preached tolerance.  His rhetoric was so intense that many times he spoke in parables because 'Godly' speech probably would have confused his flock. 

I don't feel like I have to forgive homosexuals.  Why would I?  What have they done to me?  (Well, there was that one guy who came onto me my freshman year of college....and it kind of wigged me out, but that's another story for another time.)  I have friends and family who are homosexual.  They're very good people.  They're very nice people.  I love them all, no differently than my heterosexual friends and family.  While I don't purport to understand homosexuality, I'm not going to hate people who are.  It's just not in my heart.  I may make fun of a guy prancing around in tights with Mardi Gras beads around his neck during a gay pride parade in New York City, but you know what?  I make fun of straight people doing ridiculous things too. 

So, folks, that's my take on the whole thing.  I love Duck Dynasty and support Phil's right to state his beliefs.  I support A&E's right to make a business decision (even though I think it was the wrong one) and I support a person's right to love any way they want. 
You have a right to disagree with me and that's okay.  I won't be mad at you either way. 

Have a Merry Christmas everyone....and a prosperous, healthy and happy New Year.

I Celebrate Christmas

In a world gone awry, Christmas continues to be a constant reminder of hope.  We live in a time of apologists; we apologize for being American, for our race, for our gender and for our religion.  I peer into the future and fear for what may become of our once great nation.  When did it become offensive to tell someone "Merry Christmas?"  When did retailers decide their profits could still be had even if they posted "Happy Holidays?"

Whether you recognize Christ as Savior is irrelevant to me.  What matters is that America panders to those who would disagree with the majority--yes, Christians are still the majority here in the States.  Personally, if you celebrate Ramadan, Hanukah or Happy Buddhist Day that's your prerogative and I don't care.  But your chosen religion DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT to demand a removal of Christian signage or verbiage because you simply disagree with it. 

It's almost humorous to hear those who proclaim no religion at all to tell us how "spiritual" they are.  What they really are is intolerant and bigoted.  I suspect they, those who don't like the Christmas tradition and everything it represents, are really jealous that many have faith in something much larger than the human condition.  I merely ask: what's wrong with that?

People can point to church organizations whose leaders are sometimes miscreants and steal money or commit a crime, but the teachings told us in the Bible have nothing to do with those individuals.  Humans are humans and fall far from perfection each day, but that should have no bearing on what the Gospels preach.

Lastly, if I should say Merry Christmas to you in passing, don't be offended.  Just smile and say "thank you."  I didn't intend it as an insult but if you take it as one, then understand....I won't apologize.  :)

Writing is a job

I've always envisioned writing a book and having it published.  A few years ago I wrote a series of magazine articles for some rather largely distributed martial arts rags and received a lot of positive feedback.  Some time back I began work on a humorous memoir of sorts but rethought pursuing publication after getting some constructive criticism, in addition to reading that these types of manuscripts are rarely published and not generally well received.  So, for now I've tabled that work and have steered myself down the winding, and somewhat unpredictable road of fiction.

Great writers make writing fiction seem natural.  In reality, great writers make writing anything seem natural, and for some I suspect it is.  What I've discovered during this process, however, is writing (for me) is work; it's pleasurable work mostly, but it's work nonetheless.  My friend, and author, Gary Gabelhouse remarked to me over dinner that writing "is rewriting."  How correct he is. 

I had no idea how many grammatical and spelling errors I make as I attempt to put thought to keyboard.   I'm especially not very careful about what I post on social media, as I usually ramble and throw things out there for effect, not concerning myself with spelling and grammar.  But even with that, I still catch myself going back and editing status updates and such just to keep from further embarrassing myself, the content notwithstanding.

For anyone considering writing a manuscript, I encourage it, but let's be honest, most aren't prepared for that level of work, and more importantly, most aren't prepared for negative feedback from those offering to read their work.  It's hard to stomach that kind of critique, I promise.

Without giving away anything too detailed about this project I've undertaken, I would like to share a paragraph I recently wrote and allow you, the reader, to offer feedback.  I realize there is no perspective or context with which to form an opinion about the work as a whole, and you know nothing about the characters, but I still wanted to share just a little to pique the interest of those who might be interested to read it in its entirety sometime in the future (I hope)......

Some time passed before Buddy spoke again.  He weighed his words before speaking then began, “Billy, a strong distrust of government is a good thing.  Hell, that’s what the founders of our country told us to do; you know, don’t trust 'em.  But walking around being cynical all the time eats at a man’s heart.  Everyone can’t be bad all the time, Billy.  You should think about that and let the past die and be buried.”

And so onward I push.  I want nothing more than to see this work published.  My ego and pride want nothing more than to be walking through an airport and see some passenger with his/her nose in my book, enjoying my "work."  That, my friends, is the goal; not money or fame....simply seeing and hearing about someone else enjoying that which I've labored to give.

The Gentleman Warrior

We all know death and have to face it, unfortunately, on some regularity.  Lost family members and friends have a way of making us cynical about life in general, especially when we care greatly for the one who passed away.  We question the "why's," the "what if's," and "if only" before finally accepting the death.

After coming to terms with the person's passing, we look into our memories and try to remember what made that person so special to us.  Today is one of those days for me.

I guess I should preface this tribute with some explanation first for those who may not know me that well.  I'm a martial artist, a follower of budo (warrior way) and love everything about the Okinawan and Japanese arts.  I've been blessed with instruction from some of the world's greatest and best karate-ka and budo-ka out there.  The one man who stands out from all the rest is Jim Davenport.

There will be much written and said about his martial accomplishments, for there are many.  Many will talk about his amazing martial skill and knowledge, as they should.  I could write for quite some time about the knowledge he shared with me, but currently that's not where my mind is.

Jim was so much more than a budo-ka.  He was a father to two great men, a grandfather, and to me......a good friend.  He epitomized what so many karate-ka talk about but never succeed in reaching: being a gentleman warrior.

He and I spoke often, and I can't think of one conversation when his jolly laugh didn't make me smile.  His sense of humor and outlook on life was contagious and inspiring.  I recall watching him move and thinking, "that fat dude is the fastest I've ever seen."  I remember telling him that I had thought that the first time we had met and he nearly burst with laughter.  He went on to tell me about a conversation he had had with another individual who once told him that he was very impressive for someone that heavy.  Jim responded, "Heavy?  Nah, just fat."  I sit here laughing as I write this even though my heart is heavy with his loss. 

I scrolled through my phone contacts this morning to let a friend know that Jim had passed away.  As I scrolled my phone stopped on Jim's name and number.  I hung my head in utter sadness.

Anyone who was blessed to have known Jim understood what kind of man he was.  His legacy lives on, but his spirit will be greatly missed.

In Everything You Do, Do It With Passion

Most often human beings walk through life with little notice of their surroundings, their fellow human beings or what God created.  It is the mundane that causes us to whine about Mondays after the weekend comes to a screeching halt, and it is rote memorization that moves us through each day without much thought or emotional effort. 

There are those people we admire "who've made it," who have accomplished great things in life, whether famous or not.  These individuals have created something with their minds, hands and imagination making life easier and more enjoyable for the rest of us.  Some ideas seem so simple yet so effective, others overly complex and simultaneously simplistic. 

I believe we frequently mistake the doers of the world for incredibly intelligent over-achievers.  But what I've found in my life is that nothing could be further from the truth.  On the contrary, I've found those who have achieved some  level of greatness, have done something I perceive as great, each have one common trait: passion.

Innate ability is God given.  It's talent given to an individual for a purpose.  That ability may be spectacular athleticism or possibly an acute artistic talent.  Whatever the gift, it comes natural to a person and is sometimes squandered by those who lack passion.

The person who has drive and passion will accomplish more than the average person lacking both, quite often even if the person lacking both is smarter.  Passion is fuel, passion is energy and passion is courage in the face of adversity.  It sometimes supplants intellect because it pushes a person to accomplish the unimaginable.  Passion eats at a person's mind to unleash the idea and free it from the person's soul. 

Just this week I witnessed passion--and seeing it wielded by a legend made it appear effortless and God given.  For many years I've yearned to see B.B. King perform live in concert for no other reasons than loving his music and wanting to see a musical dynamo.  But when I watched an eighty-eight year old diabetic man helped to his chair in the center of a stage pick up a guitar and play it like it was the love of his life, I knew then and there what true passion was. 

B.B. King sang on key, hit every note righteously on his guitar and genuinely had a great time performing.  I quickly realized I was witnessing poetry in motion--this is a man fueled by a passion few others have.  Does he need the money he earns for performing?  I doubt it.  Does his ego require more fame?  Heck no!  What then, drives a man, almost a century old, to continue traveling around the world performing and singing for people? 

I long for internal passion and desire!  Sometimes I have it, but most of the time I'm simply lazy and ignore its beck and bite in my mind.  I turn a blind eye to its calling; no more!  Seeing what I did this week has moved me. 

Mr. King, "you are my sunshine."

Remembering Dad

If your Dad is still above ground, count yourself more than fortunate.  Other than your mother's love, you'll never again experience that which your father feels for you, even if you aren't the best of friends at all times.

In my earliest years my Dad was my hero.  I remember combing my hair just like my dad, bright blonde bushiness and cow licks attempting to maneuver in other directions, but I would constantly add water to keep that neat military part in due order.  Pops was a military man, an aircraft mechanic in the Air Force; a job he loved and performed well soon after my birth and into my early school years.  Being a Southern man coupled with military discipline made him harsh at times, but his harshness was never without love. 

Dad would throw baseball with me, even though I didn't particularly care for baseball--even back then.  But Dad loved baseball and every moment I spent with him was the best, so I pitched the ball when he had time to do so. 

His form of discipline was tough, but typically not served without need.  Let's say he wasn't a believer in "time-out" or "standing in a corner."  Dad would whoop me when I needed whooped, but he never did so without telling me why. 

In my teen years I hated and loved my Dad simultaneously, but always wanted his approval in everything I did.  He could be harsh and "that look" would scare and incite a small amount of rage in me. 

I had never seen my Pops so happy as when his first grandchild was born.  My first born, Courtney, was his pride and joy.  See, my Dad had fathered two boys and never a girl.  To see not only his first grandchild but his first grand daughter was a sight to behold.  Every day he came by my apartment to see his baby girl, and every day his baby girl would get so excited when he picked her up.  Courtney would flail around and smile her toothless grin as Dad bounced her up and down and kissed her little face.  "Poppa" had come full circle--a strict disciplinarian with two young men to the softest teddy bear who ever lived.  That teddy bear would simply have to pick his grand baby up from her crib and his heart melted. 

When Dad's grand daughter was five months old and his oldest son was only a couple weeks removed from his twenty-third birthday, he left this world suddenly. 

He drove a little white Ford Ranger for the last few years before he passed and every time I would see a similar truck I would throw up my hand and wave before realizing that wasn't him. 

And now, twenty-one years since he left us, I still get choked up thinking about him and wanting to just give him one more hug.  His loss was devastating to me--our last conversation an argument.  It took twenty years for me to move beyond the argument, as it was my fault and not his, and stop beating myself up for something as silly as that argument was.  I finally came to grips with the amount of love he felt for his sons and grand daughter and only hope he's still looking down on all the fine grand children he has now.  There's no doubt he would love watching Courtney soon graduate with her associates degree, Cassidy playing in the high school band, Evan on his high school baseball team and Emily Ann on her softball team.  His pride would only be surpassed by his telling everyone who his grand children were at any event!

I miss you, Dad and wish you were here......for just one more hug.