Rhythm, no blues

Filed by Steve on Friday, July 3, 2009

Terrific rhythm to my life in the last 24 hours:

• I did most of the work on my weekly Kindle Nation email newsletter yesterday morning, writing a lost post that I feel pretty good about under the title "Wake Up, Amazon!"
• Then I hung with Danny who was home sick from tweener summer day camp from 2 to 6 and he cleaned my clock twice at Clue, Simpsons version. We also went outside with Brownie for a while so he could take a hammer to a matchbox el-caminoed Cadillac which he had purchased for two bucks at Newbury Comics for the express purpose of seeing how hard it would be to demolish it with a hammer. That's my boy.
• I got to the pool at 6 and did my 40 laps, which got me to a little over 3 miles for the week. Hot damn!
• Arrived back at my house about 7:30 knowing I needed to do about two hours of work to send out Kindle Nation. Took a 45-minute nap with the replay of the previous day's Sox game as ambient TV noise, then got up, made myself a sardine sandwich and a cup of coffee, and hit "send" on Kindle Nation at 10:35 pm.
• Included, in Kindle Nation, a note saying that there would be no issue this coming week. Just like the New York does in the summer sometimes, except they plan their breaks a little further ahead.
• I was asleep by 11, like a rock on the pillow. Okay, a big rock.
• Wandered through the house looking for coffee some time this morning, sat down and read an email sent by my pal suggesting I give her a call at 11:17 pm, looked at the clock on the computer and it said 5:52 am.
• Had a bowl of flax cereal and two cups of coffee and spent the next two hours extremely productively while lying down: reading the chapter about my friend Jim Koch's friend John Wing in the The Smartest Guys in the Room, then making notes toward an amazing business plan for a new media company.
• I also made a long list of things I could do today, and have done some of them.
• Had a lovely conversation with my pal, although it was not about anything.
  

Off to a good start, and "A fundamental struggle - Originally posted to BMGS 1.0 October 21, 2007"

June 18, 2009: Hugely busy day today in which I am trying to squeeze in some househunting, dinner with a friend, and a meeting on the day I already am up against my weekly Kindle Nation Daily deadline. But I have already been to the pool for 26 laps, so I am off to a good start. feeling great, getting my exercise, eating healthy. We had a nice dinner at Kitchen on Common in Belmont, around the corner from an apartment I'm scoping out and a few steps from Danny's next-year middle school. I'd never knowingly had arctic char. It was exquisite.

A fundamental struggle

30 pounds today, which pleases me much more than 29.5.

I seem to have moved beyond a little plateau, by drilling down on the basic elements that have been working for BMGS these past 7+ weeks: pay attention to the calories, and work them off. I shall keep it up.

It seems from the emails I get that nearly all my 50-something male friends are fighting the good fight when it comes to weight. We can do this. There are powerful forces working against us, but together we can fight the power!

To succeed, for me, it has required that I treat this struggle as if it was really, really important. There are ways in which I think it is important, but others in which I know it is trivial. But if I let it become trivial for me, I will fail.

My pal Stewart wrote the other day about the importance, also, of focusing on the things that are really important:

“Do good. We really are in fundamental struggle for soul and future of this country and our kids. Weigh in. We need your voice--in big fights and little ones. For instance, great news about Merle Haggard. Every word and action for democracy and people and justice matters today--great or small. Don't mean to meddle or tell you how to spend your time. But you have a gift for writing. People will read what you write. Values matter more now than ever. The country hungers for honorable and fundamental values and for folks to voice those values.”

Word.

He is right about every bit of it, and I accept the responsibility and the challenge, even as I am still feeling my way into acting on that acceptance again after lo these many years.

That said, I am drawn for a moment back to trivia.

A good night for the Boston 9 last night. Their $70-million right fielder redeemed himself after a season that had some fans calling him Nancy Drew rather than J.D. Drew. (Not me, I am a Nancy Drew fan). Tonight their $103-million #3 starting pitcher has a similar opportunity. They put it away so early and easily last night that I was able to vacate the bar sometime in the 4th inning. This was a good thing. I had worked out at the gym shortly before the game, and consequently was more than a little thirsty. Bud Light is probably not the right way to rehydrate, but it was cold and good, and I had allotted myself the calories for 4 pints. Problem was, at the rate of the pint per inning that I was sucking down, I don’t think I could have gone the full 9 innings if my team had needed me.

I first heard today’s soundtrack back in the mid-80s when I owned a community bookstore called the Dorchester Reading Authority. I used to play a Celtic music show on the weekend, which may have been a precursor of some kind to Brian O’Donovan’s program, and this song seemed to get play every week. Well-deserved play.

Go Sox!

I'm trying not to use sex to sell this blog, but tonight it is important to stand up for what is right.

Soundtrack for Sunday

I would never steer you wrong. This is a song for all ages, all races, all souls. Listen, drink in the music and the lyrics drawn directly from a man's letters to his son who had made the crossing, and the images. It is just an amazing fusion of music and narrative, and yet entirely artless.


The song was written about 25 years ago by a fellow named Peter Jones, and this recording features Robbie O'Connell, Mick Moloney and Jimmy Keane.

"I go to encounter for the millionth time the reality of experience and to forge in the smithy of my soul the uncreated conscienc