Tuesday, December 29, 2009

2009: The Year in Review

Here we are already and with little to show for it. Coming off of 2008, which had marked a real writing boom year for me, I had a lot of great plans for the last year of the millennium's first decade. An old quote I remember from High School comes to mind here. "The best laid plans of mice and men often go astray." There may be more to that, but I don't remember it. During that time of my adolescent life I would never have found myself quoting Steinbeck, although in hindsight the only book in our required reading curriculum that I can remember with any degree of fondness was in fact "Of Mice and Men." There was something about required reading versus recreational reading that sealed the door on my already closed mind. Only within the last few years have I discovered a slight affinity for those that are now and long have been considered classics. If my English teachers could only see me now!
It would not be an honest review of the year if I did not mention some of the reading highlights which unfortunately these days falls into the top three where overall 2009 highlights are concerned. I rediscovered Steinbeck this year completely by accident; a case of being in the wrong place at the right time listening to an animated patron regale others with tales of his premeditated reading schedule.
"I read The Grapes of Wrath every Thanksgiving, A Christmas Carol every Christmas, and Huck Finn at Easter."
Having recently completed an old-fashioned western, The Grapes of Wrath struck a chord. What the dust bowl had to do with Cowboys and Indians remained to be seen, short of the fact that both tales take place a long, long time ago. Similar to discovering Jules Verne's The Mysterious Island several years earlier, I came to the immediate conclusion within the first few pages that this might be a tough read. Lucky for me, with maturity comes patience and more of an open mind. The Grapes of Wrath was simply fascinating and came with an ending so explosive I had to return to that last page to see if either I missed something or if pages might actually be missing. Kudos to the High School teacher that forces this book upon today's student body, and accolades to those who finish it. Currently as '09 draws to its welcome end, I am deeply enmeshed in Pearl S. Buck's The Good Earth. It may have been a social studies teacher who bestowed this one upon a class of (I am assuming) mostly unwilling kids. I never got through the first chapter. Hell, that year I think I may have been lucky to move on to the next grade. I was a satisfactory student at best, my mind focused elsewhere. There was always some type of movie playing there and as creative writing took priority, I always contemplated which of those "Morty movies" might just make the written page.
There is a name for this affliction now and drugs to correct it, control it, or stifle it.
Unlike "Mr. Classics at Holiday Time," there is no rhyme or reason to my reading schedule or tastes. Hemingway came to mind one summer's day as I perused the classics wall in our local library. My longing for Key West and love for writing seemed to make Hemingway a perfect fit. I have been known on more than one occasion to voice the thought, "I want to smash toilets like Hemingway." Whether proof of this legend exists or not, I have spent time in some of the bars that this well renowned author has frequented in his past. Choosing To Have and Have Not solely on the fact that part of it revolved around my favorite Florida Key, I prepared myself to experience the island in days before it became the tourist mecca it is today. Refusing to revert back to the days of my closed adolescent mind, I plodded forward, determined to embrace all that was Hemingway.
To Have and Have Not, marked the toughest read for me in recent memory. I have discarded other books long before losing complete patience. There are others who will claim it was brilliant, he a genius. Perhaps one day should I stumble upon one of his paperbacks in our laundromat (a place where I have unwittingly become a fan of many authors), I might try again.
Author Matt Braun has captured the feel of the old west and written it in a form that makes it sound almost current; something that should appeal to reader's of any age, a difficult task when writing of a genre that is wholly unpopular in a large percentage of this country. Not more than a casual fan, I am in awe of his bibliographical achievements which number somewhere in the area of roughly sixty published works. I'm just hoping to see one published.
The idea of actually pursuing a book project came to me shortly after launching this site in 2006. Ecstatic at the positive reception (albeit from friends and family members) of my first posting, the thought began to surface that there might be more than just a poignant childhood recollection of teen romance and that all important first kiss. I have long held close to my heart the events that transpired during a hastily planned Labor Day Weekend getaway in 1976. I could never have dreamed that three decades later, not only would my memory commit to the written page nearly every pertinent detail, but that through the wonder and magic that is the Internet, I would reconnect with some of the very people who made that time so memorable. Nelson's Family Campground has quite literally become an integral of my subconscious, my very being. Citing the well worn cliche and title of an earlier posting here, "Go to Your Happy Place," it meant for me a return to this beloved piece of personal paradise, be it physically or mentally. It has invaded my dreams, leaving me to awaken the following morning with a special smile and a feeling of self-satisfied warmth. My return there during the summer of 2009 marked one of the highest points in my life in several years. Triumphant at finding the place purely from memory, while marvelling at the fact that so many places I considered landmarks as a teenager were still in existence, my homecoming there seemed bittersweet. After all, nothing truly remains the same. The recapturing of memories while standing on the very ground in which they happened failed to ignite inside me that long sought after feeling of euphoria I had imagined it might. Life had moved on and at a terrifying pace. Undeterred, there was still the thrill of pursuing a lifelong dream, followed by feelings of doubt and anxiety. What do I know of publishing a book, let alone writing one? Can I really pull this off? For the moment, I am still in the infant stages of collecting and collating information while trying not to jump too far ahead in thinking about formatting, i.e title, chapters, graphics, ROYALTIES! Alright, royalties seems a bit far fetched at the moment although I have reached the conclusion that any funds accrued from the successful publication of this book will go towards the research of Alzheimer's and related diseases. Sadly in March of this year, the wife of the campground owner passed after a thankfully short lived bout with the illness. Doing my part as only I know how, this project is thus dedicated to her, my way of saying thank-you for the memories, and not just for mine, but for so many others whose lives have been touched, maybe in the very same way.
My contributions to Forest Hills Celebrity and Entertainment continued in much the same way they always have, making deadlines by mere seconds or shamefacedly asking for the dreaded extension. Losing former ELO member Kelly Groucutt both saddened and inspired me to include him in the magazine, sharing with my small piece of the world a love for the music he helped to create, and the incredible hole he left in his wake not only on the home front, but around the world as well. Kelly's death also marked the one true burst of writing for me this year. In composing the article for the magazine, my passion for the Electric Light Orchestra after laying dormant for so long burned brightly once again. Days became weeks before my tale of ELO appeared here for all of the world to embrace. "Symphony in Teen Minor" marks one of the brightest shining moments in this year just past, for me a true sense of accomplishment. Another hurdle conquered came in the saddle. Being a fan of country music and having friends who loved going horseback riding, I had spent most of my life avoiding the activity. A horrific visit to an upstate dude ranch last summer spelled the end of that. Two positive things came from the exorbitant amount of money we spent at a resort that should be condemned. The first was my fear (if that's what it would be classified as) of getting on a horse, the second was watching my son get over his fear of swimming and tackling the water slide over and over again. The look of pure joy on his face as he sailed out of that tube like a bullet shot from a gun will live in my mind forever. One other accomplishment was his ability to graduate from training wheels to a two wheeler...and in literally a matter of minutes! Proud could easily be the best way to describe my feelings as he took off confidently on his own, yet on the other hand it was not unexpected. I had him pedaling bikes almost from the day he could walk, our Saturdays in those early years spent on the streets for hours as he never seemed to tire while we explored the neighborhood and beyond. Justin Thomas, you have added more to my life than you can ever imagine.
At the onset of 2009, I found myself obsessed with all that is Facebook and wasted little time in posting my 25 random facts about Morty. Readers here (be they few and far between) were treated to an additional (5) random facts. Call it a Blogspot exclusive! While I make light of that fact, Facebook probably provided the penultimate highlight in a year that I would otherwise consider a bust. Reunions with people I had all but forgotten made 2009 thoroughly bearable. While the summer weather in this part of the country was wholly uncooperative, the opportunity to reunite with an old friend from High School marked another milestone in my life. For would be adventurers who care to delve back into the archives here, you will find in my retelling of a 1987 road trip to Virginia Beach ("Awry, pronounced Orrie") my first sighting of an odd mode of water transportation called a Banana Boat. Twenty-Two years elapsed before I climbed aboard one in the semi-frigid waters of Long Island's Great South Bay. Keep in mind this was in early June and the Spring weather had yet to cooperate as well. As my Facebook friend list continued to grow, so did the long sought after re-connections with lost loves from my past, most of whom never reciprocated those feelings (you know who you are), and my first girlfriend ever who did!! The sense of accomplishment in not only findng them, but their appreciation of my efforts in seeking them out has left me with a stronger sense of self worth than I have felt for years. That reaffirmation and support really hit home during the lowest point of 2009 at the wake for my mom, who after three months in the hospital lost her battle with something we still don't have an answer for. There is far more that I could mention here in regards to our healthcare (or lack thereof) system, but to what end? 2009 also spelled to the end of my 18 plus years with a company I had given far more than the proverbial 110%. The transition to my new position was seamless, with little fanfare or emotion. We do what we have to in order to survive. Laughably, day one of my arrival in my new home I had been invited to take any space I wanted and opted for the comfy corner office with a killer view of the non descript street below. I feel like I know the corporate folks across the street almost intimately. I wonder if they know that.
In closing, what will 2010 bring? I make no promises and harbor no grand plans for this space. To quote ol' Bocephus (the rest of the world will know him as Hank Williams Jr.): "If it Will, it Will. If it Won't, it Won't."