more normal than not

Awwwwwwwwwww.

How can you be focused when you can’t remember things?

I can’t find the Casey Neistat video I was going to use in the blog today.

(WT? CASEY NEISTAT?!!! AGAIN?!!!! WHAT IS THIS?!!! SOME WEIRD FAN PAGE?!!! THAT’S KIND OF REPULSIVE, REALLY!!! GET OFF THIS LAZY EXCUSE FOR  BLOG POSTING!!!! WRITE ABOUT WHAT YOU KNOW…..STOP BEING SO LAZY.)

Maybe that’s what folks are thinking when they see another Casey Neistat video on this blog?

Maybe.

The video was one where he was answering questions from viewers….and talking about “focus”….and he drew a diagram that broke down the effects of not having any (focus).

It was a diagram that showed that a bunch of diffused effort never amounted to anything….and that focused effort could lead to accomplishment.

(Duh.)

But…it was good…and entertaining….and I wanted to use it.

Now, I can’t remember which one….out of hundreds….it was.

Oh, well.

Laser focus is good if you can pick a target….or, even, remember where you wanted to aim in the first place.

So….I’ll use this one about surfing with giant sharks.

I’ll focus later.

It’s funny how I expect my children to do the things I didn’t do.

Well…..not really “funny”. Weird, maybe. Probably, for a parent, typical.

I was looking up scholarships this morning….and thinking about all the ones I’d have them apply for, and then I thought about my own experience when I was in High School.

I didn’t apply for a bunch of scholarships.

I got a couple….and they were a surprise to me when I got them….but I don’t remember writing any essays or really even trying very hard to get any.

I’m not sure how most of that happened.

Now that I mention it, I don’t really remember trying very hard in general.

I worked hard at some of it, but I don’t think that I was all that focused.

I think that I was more interested in listening to music and doing my job at the construction site…..wearing flip-flops and feeling the sun on my bare feet….running in the Georgia heat….stuff like that.

That’s probably why I majored in Art (with a capital “A”). I could listen to music….and do art. How much focus could it take? (Actually a lot…..blood, sweat and tears….laser. I have to think hard to come up with all that stuff….hard enough, sometimes, to make my head ache.)

So….it’s kind of hypocritical to expect them to be super-focused.

To my happy surprise, though, they’re a lot more directed and focused than I ever was.

My oldest is in an engineering program….studies all the time….and the next in line starts school in the Fall….and he’s been working at getting scholarships….and….working at getting out of (and away from) High School.

They’ll be OK.

What they can’t take care of, I’ll figure out how to help them with.

This scholarship game is a funny one, though.

I think that the real trick is to just show up.

Apply to all of them…..because I will bet that some of them get very few applicants.

I’ll bet that some of them have people sitting in administrative offices somewhere who run down the hall after receiving the request, yelling, “HOLY SMOKES!!! WE GOT ONE!!! SOMEBODY FOUND US!!! GIVE THEM THE MONEY!!!”

That’s the fantasy, anyway.

It’s kind of like finding the money people tell us is buried on the property we bought.

It’s fun to have a fantasy.

I guess that the best thing that I can do is just make sure that I don’t get in their way.

It’s hard enough without me getting in their way, somehow.

(I think that I’ll really hit them hard with the expectation of a Saturday spent applying for every crazy scholarship they can find online….when they get up. It’s still pretty early and I’m awake in the quiet house. That’s what I’ll do first thing this morning…..hammer down on their futures. That’s a good way to spoil a nice weekend.)

We’ll figure this all out.

From my tenuous perch on the wobbly ladder of adulthood, I will monitor their progress, too….and pretend, for their benefit, that I have a real handle on any of this growing up stuff.

You have to think that the tour director knows how to drive the bus.

You have to know something to make it through.

I get a kick out of Casey Neistat’s videos.

What is this creative that you can watch for free….and that you can watch everyday (if you wanted to)?

It’s pretty amazing.

The first video has some footage that he shot with a drone….AMAZING!!

And….the second video explains how he crashed his drone into a boat filming the first video.

There is so much creativity and energy in these Vlogs…..it’s kind of inspiring.

Crazy creativity is super inspiring to me.

Go, Casey….and….thanks!

 

 

 

 

We have an old computer that I keep nursing along.

It might be smart to buy a new one at some point, but it’s cheaper to replace a part when needed….or clean it out….blow all the dust out….or, maybe, just reinstall Windows….again.

It crashes, sometimes.

Yesterday, we got the “blue screen of death” and the error code was something about “memory_management”.

“Memory management”.

So….I pulled RAM out and turned the computer back on….and then switched out for different RAM (after turning it back off) until I found some RAM that still worked.

It must have been some bad memory….because when I’d gotten rid of half of the 4 sticks, it started working again.

All of that hassle because of some bad memory.

That’s no surprise that something got a little stressed, though.

Our youngest daughter turns the computer off with her little toe pretty often, when she’s sitting on our laps while we’re working/screwing around on the PC.

That can’t be good for anything that runs on electricity….to turn it off suddenly like that.

(“PC”? Does anyone call it that anymore? It’s our “personal computer”…but…does anybody call it that anymore?)

Computers are easy.

I can’t get rid of memory like a computer can.

I can’t just pull it out and store it in a drawer.

(Why I want to save computer memory that’s bad is a good question for later…..)

All that computer memory knows is what I feed it, anyway.

It’s not like real memory…..like memory that’s inside my head.

It’s not like that.

It stores what I need….in the background….until I fill it with something to take its place.

Until I crowd the old memory out, it’s inside somewhere….

Whether I use it or not, it’s inside.

I have memories that I’m working on crowding out….inside my head.

I’m not talking about my computer now….I switched tracks, sort of.

I have a sponge up there that could use an occasional squeezing.

There’s no reason to haul around some of the stuff that I carry in my head.

I’m no computer….but sometimes my “memory_management” could use some work, too.

My memory could use some attention.

But….the more attention I pay to it, the more I remember.

I can’t run from a memory….or, really, run to a memory.

What a conundrum.

Maybe it’s better to try to just fill it up with good new memory?

Maybe I should just drink some more coffee?

 

 

Jenny thought that someone was in the room, padding around, until I explained to her that it was just Sparrow kicking my stomach.

That’s how we get woken up some days.

Sunday is the day of rest.

Half asleep in a couple of minutes after the stomach kicking incident ,though, , my mind swirling a little in the in-between place, I thought of the phrase “a great success in business and life”.

It wasn’t an affirmation….just a random thought.

But then I started to wonder if maybe that’s all it took to keep going….the belief….or the recognition…that you were a success at something?

Something.

Anything.

And then….I thought it was kind of sad that the word business came first before the word life.

That’s kind of sad.

(At this point, I am realizing that I need some coffee. It’s 6:41 and still dark outside….and after being kicked in the stomach repeatedly, I’m a little disoriented.)

I’m back. The water’s cooking for the coffee.

How’d business get to be any measure for how our lives are going, anyway?

Jenny told me that it killed her some to hear me describe myself as a mailman.

That was a nice compliment.

I guess that she wants me to do a children’s book like I’ve talked about for years.

I guess, too, that the mailman description is more for other people than it is for me.

Nobody has the time or patience to listen to me try to describe who I think that I really am.

“Mailman” is a lot more concise.

It’s early on a Sunday….and the water should be boiling, ready to be poured over the grounds in the french press.

My family is sleeping.

I’m a mailman….and a lot more….and, yes, I guess that I am…..

A GREAT SUCCESS IN….AND AT….BUSINESS AND LIFE.

Go, me!