South Of Someplace: 2013

Saturday, December 28, 2013

Life's Blessings - 2013

I give thanks every day for my blessings. My life has exceeded my most optimistic expectations.

My problems are few and far less severe than the mountains that many people have been forced to climb. I have loved, laughed, traveled, taught, written, and created art in a variety of disciplines. I am in good health and enjoy vigorous activity and exercise. I am honored to be a member of a loving family and to enjoy the company of bright and interesting friends.

Here, with deep gratitude, I list some of the blessings that I received in 2013.

- I toured Belgium and The Netherlands for the first time. The Dutch crowned a new king while I was visiting their country.

- I photographed the Ancient Bristlecone Pine Forest, a remote wilderness in California that has fascinated me for years.

- I completed an adventurous new photo project: New York - City In Motion

- I wrote my very first short story (The Horse Farm), authored dozens of articles on my blogs, and debuted a new photography website.

- I cast a vote for the first time as a citizen of New York and served an intensely fascinating three hours of jury duty. ;-)

- I left the worst job of my career and found a much more enjoyable position in an excellent company.

- I worked diligently on improving my skills in photography and dance, and I finished several movements from a new set of concertos (debuting 2014).

- I enjoyed a lot of running this year, improved my overall conditioning, and dropped a suit size.

- I watched the New York City Marathon for the first time as a spectator. It was fascinating to watch the front runners streak past at great speed.

- I enjoyed the privilege of teaching enthusiastic students week after week.

- I got hooked on some fascinating televisions shows and enjoyed countless gallons of Starbucks.

Wishing each of you all of the best in 2014!

Cynical Soliloquies - Gentleman's Club

Why is it called a "gentleman's club?" How often does an actual gentleman walk into one of these places?

Cynical Soliloquies - Giftwrap

Who came up with the concept of wrapping gifts? The paper industry?

I don't have time for this nonsense. I WORK for a living.

Give unwrapped! Start a trend. Save a tree!

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Good News And Bad News

Doctor: I have good news, and I have bad news.

Patient: Oh?

Doctor: You're going to live.

Patient: Is that the good news or the bad news?

Doctor: Well, that's entirely up to you.

Copyright © 2013 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved

Pearl Harbor

As a child I watched movies on television. Television at that time was a black and white set that received four channels with various degrees of fuzziness depending on weather conditions and time of day. A lot of the movies were war movies, mostly World War II.

I knew of the attack on Pearl Harbor. No one ever sat me down and explained what had happened at Pearl Harbor; everybody just sort of knew already. Maybe those black and white films about the war in the Pacific were really effective and absorbing history lessons.

To me, as a young boy, it all seemed as though it had happened a very long time before. Pearl Harbor and The American Civil War seemed equally distant in the shadowy depths of history. The distortion of youth, perhaps.

Pearl Harbor had actually occurred less than twenty years before I was born. It amazes me to think back on it now as we have just passed the 72nd anniversary of the attack. Pearl Harbor was still a fresh wound on the American psyche, not unlike the way that the 9/11 attacks seem to Americans today.

All of those subsequent battles - The Battle Of The Bulge, Midway, Guadalcanal, the trials at Nürnberg, the development and deployment of the atomic bombs - all of that had happened shortly before I was born. But it still seemed like ancient history.

Following close at hand we had Sinatra and Elvis, the Cold War, Sputnik, and the beginnings of the Civil Rights Movement.

Now, Civil Rights and the Space Program, I do remember. That was my time. That was my world. Along with the Beatles and Walter Cronkite and riots in American cities, anti-war protests, hippies, and sit-ins on college campuses, JFK, RFK, and MLK, Women's Liberation, the sexual revolution, the rise of environmental activism. I remember all of the above, maybe even a bit too well for a young child. It had an impact.

What will children born into this age think of 9/11 and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan? Ancient history? Something that happened long ago, like the Civil War? The human mind is an amazing thing. Our consciousness serves as its own time machine as we wander the pages of history in a book that unfolds new, crisp, tightly bound pages with each passing day.

Copyright © 2013 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved

Thursday, November 28, 2013

Your Boss Wants To Interfere With Your Health Care Decisions

The US Supreme Court is scheduled to hear cases from companies that want to be able to choose what they'll cover - or not cover - in the health insurance of their employees. Specifically, there are companies that are unwilling to pay for insurance that covers the cost of contraception for women. The basis for this request is that it conflicts with someone's religious values, typically that of the company owner or a controlling interest.

These cases fascinate me. Why? Because I believe that heart attacks, strokes, and cancer are God's way of calling His children back to heaven. So, if you work for me, you won't receive any health care benefits if you have a heart attack, a stroke, or discover that you have cancer. I won't pay for preventive measures, either, such as cholesterol lowering drugs or fitness programs. When the Big Guy calls, you have an obligation to answer (by dying, that is). I'm not about to stand in His way by paying to make you healthy again.

Of course, I'm not serious. Everything in that second paragraph was a joke. I was simply making a point about how UTTERLY DANGEROUS it would be to let employers decide which health care benefits to offer based upon the religious beliefs of some individual or group. You are free to believe anything that you wish. You might even want to make things up in order to try to get out of paying high premiums. You might believe that it makes economic sense to cut health care costs by cutting out some coverage, but this policy is completely unfair to your employees. If they are desperate enough to work for someone who would cheat them out of fundamental health care benefits, they probably don't have many options.

I hope that the Supreme Court will make the right decision and dismiss these cases.

Copyright © 2013 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved

Friday, November 22, 2013

Remembering President Kennedy

We stood on the dry grass between the two houses. Mrs. Taylor from next door was whispering. At three and a half, I was about as tall as my mother's hip. She held my younger sister in her arms as she leaned in to listen. I couldn't hear their words, but I sensed great concern. I chased dry leaves to keep myself occupied.

When Dad came home he sat on the couch riveted to the news. His expression was blank, shocked. It was the first time that I had ever heard the word 'assassinated', but I knew immediately what it meant.

Two days later my father tried to explain a complex series of events. "Oswald shot Kennedy, and then Jack Ruby shot Owsald." Jack who? - I wondered. It was more than my young mind could comprehend. It was more than anyone could comprehend.

We watched the solemn march on television, the casket pulled by horses. Jackie stood bravely with her two children. Young John saluted.

This was my world as a child. A world where even our President could be taken away in a moment of insanity. A world destined to change in ways that we could not yet imagine. A nation, shocked and grieving, yearning for answers, answers that would come slowly and be forever shrouded in suspicion and in doubt. Our country found itself at the breaking point, ready to fracture into bitter divisions over race and class and war and peace and rights and sex and lifestyle.

I can't imagine where we would be if the incident had never happened, but that day marked the end of an era and the beginning of a new age, an age of cynicism and complexity, but also of possibility. One man was gone, and the rest of us would ever be the same.

Saturday, November 2, 2013

Marathon Memories - Tenth Anniversary

Ten years ago this weekend I ran the New York City Marathon.

The day began at 5:30 am after a night of nervous sleep. I showered, dressed, grabbed my pre-packed duffle bag, and hailed a cab to the New York Public Library.

The library was the main pick-up point for shuttle busses to the start. I was concerned about delays - the race had 26,000 registered participants - so I made the decision to take one of the earliest scheduled busses. I watched the sun rise as we passed through Brooklyn.

Holding Area

I arrived at historic Fort Wadsworth at about 8:00 am, nearly three hours before the start. I picked up a bagel, a bottle of water, and two bananas from a stand and looked for a place to pass the time.

There aren't many places to sit at the fort. The grass was wet, but I found a bent tree that could serve as in impromtu bench. I enjoyed my breakfast and slowly and did what I could to relax and conserve energy.

The next step was to drop my duffle bag off at the UPS truck that would carry it to the finish area in Central Park. Runners are assigned to trucks alphabetically by last name. I made a last-minute check to ensure that I had everything that I needed with me: watch, paper towels, handkerchiefs, a bottle of Gatorade and a small bag of pretzels. Once you turn in your sealed bag, they won't give it back to you. I kept an old sweatshirt that I would throw away on purpose once I started running.

I did a bit of light jogging and stretching as a warm up. This might seems like a waste of energy before a long race, but it's a necessary part of my routine.

Eventually, it was time to visit the portable toilets. The lines were long, and many people did what they needed to do along the perimeter fencing. I witnessed several men crouching in full view; the women found a convenient, semi-private spot between two dumpsters where they could take care of certain demanding physical necessities. A few ladies stood like a human screen to shield the person currently in action, but the details were plainly visible if you glanced in their direction. Luckily, my needs weren't as urgent. I stood on line for an hour but without undue discomfort.

Finished with the toilet ordeal, I headed toward my assigned corral. The start was now just ten minutes away.

We heard the starting signal and watched the front runners on the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. Their sheer speed was amazing. It looked as though they were running away from a pack of hungry lions. It would be impressive to hold that speed for two minutes; these men would run as fast for two hours.

It took me eleven minutes to reach the starting line from my remote corral, but I did cross it eventually, and I was in the race. After all of the months of training, I was running the New York City Marathon.

Accident On The Bridge

Due to my lack of marathon racing history, I started in a corral with a lot of casual (i.e. slow) runners. Many of these folks ran in groups, and getting past these groups proved to be a challenge. I managed to get through okay, but I did see one older gentleman trip and fall while trying to squeeze past one cluster. He seemed to be a bit shaken up, but hopefully not so badly that he had to pull out of the race altogether.

Brooklyn

The Brooklyn leg of the race was relaxed and enjoyable. The route passes through family-oriented neighborhoods, and people cheered all along the way - not in massive crowds, but in a fair-sized steady stream of onlookers. I ran on the left side of the street and gave "high fives" with my left hand to kids along the way. Water/Gatorade stations were bountifully stocked every two miles.

My only frustration with Brooklyn you get stuck in the crowd and have to move along at the crowd's pace. I would have liked to have been running a bit faster, but the runners are so densely packed that passing isn't an option.

Queens

What a difference a river makes! After crossing the small bridge, I entered the urban wasteland of Long Island City, a warehouse district that seems like a place where shady characters might gather after dark for nefarious purposes. Gone were the enthusiastic neighborhood crowds of Brooklyn. Other than fellow racers, a few police officers, and marathon volunteers, I don't recall seeing a living soul in Queens.

Queensboro Bridge

The Queensboro Bridge is long and high. There's no escaping the fact that you'll be running uphill for a while here. After sixteen miles of running, it's a climb that your body isn't going to enjoy.

But even more than the altitude gain, what you notice on the bridge is how eerily quiet it is here. There are no spectators, only runners, and every runner is doing everything they can to save energy. You hear is breathing and footsteps - nothing else. When I think about it, I can remember that sound, or that lack of sound, to this day. I've never experienced anything like it.

But that was about to change.

First Avenue, Manhattan

If I could pick one moment defines the New York City Marathon experience, it would be the transition from the Queensboro Bridge to First Avenue in Manhattan. One minute you're in self-imposed sensory deprivation. The next, you're being cheered on by the race's largest and most vocal crowd of spectators. It's like running into an Olympic stadium. The energy and the enthusiasm that's directed toward the runners is like nothing that I have ever experienced, before or since.

About a mile up the avenue, I spotted my friends who provided me with some additional snacks and a fresh bottle of Gatorade. I assured them that I was still doing fine despite the heat. The afternoon was now at its peak of 76F, a relatively hot day for a long race.

Further up the avenue, just before crossing into The Bronx, I began to feel some discomfort in my troublesome left knee. I pulled to the side to give it a stretch, but the stretching position caused my hamstrings to cramp badly. I wasn't feeling the heat yet, but it was taking a toll on my body despite my consumption of sports drinks and salty snacks. The knee would just have to hang tough. There was nothing more that I could do for it.

The Bronx

The race passes through The Bronx for only a mile. It was similar to running through Brooklyn except shorter and with a lower density of onlookers. Thank goodness it wasn't bleak like Queens.

Returning To Manhattan

I remember crossing back into Manhattan and running around three sides of a small park. A lady saw my name written on my shirt and exclaimed, "Oh, Dan, you look HOT!" I replied, "I AM hot."

The temperature was getting to me. Fifth Avenue was manageable thanks to the cover of trees, but the hills of Central Park of were about to deliver a brutal lesson in humility.

I knew that I had only a few miles left. I was trying to conserve energy for the finish. On one particularly steep upgrade I slowed to a walk for a few steps to take a drink and compose myself. An enthusiastic young fellow spotted me.

"Dan! Dan! You're so close, Dan! Keep going!"

That brought a smile to my face and a jolt of energy to my fatigued body. I started running and never walked again.

The Finish

I came out of the park and turned onto Central Park South. A talented young lady was singing and playing guitar on a bandstand near the Plaza Hotel. I couldn't stop to listen.

I picked up the pace along Central Park South, even though it's one big, brutal upgrade. An acquaintance later recounted that I "didn't look very happy" when I passed him. (Note: It's okay. I grimace when I smile.)

Keep pushing. Keep running. One foot in front of the other.

I made the final turn nto the park where signs count down the remaining distance - 400 meters, 300 meters. These markers probably were meant to be encouraging, but I felt that each one taunt. "You're not done yet, buddy! You still have 300 meters to go! Ha ha!"

The heat had completely fried my brain.

Crossing the finish line seemed a bit anti-climactic. Yes, I was done. I had completed a marathon, and the pride of that considerable accomplishment was not lost on me.

But the race wasn't about the finish - it was about the experience. It was about the months of preparation. About waking up before dawn and keeping myself occupied in the holding corrals. About striding along mile after mile in a sea of runners. About high-fiving all of those enthusiastic kids and onlookers in Brooklyn. About making the climb up that big bridge and descending into the once-in-a-lifetime exhilaration of First Avenue. About overcoming heat and exhaustion in order to tough out those last, taxing miles.

Recovery

The plan is to keep the runners on their feet and walking so no one succumbs to a sudden drop in blood pressure. I'm not sure that this is really a big deal. I have sat down after many long runs without incident. But they do try to keep you walking.

Unfortunately, you run into a traffic jam with other runners and end up standing or walking in uncomfortably short steps while trying not to step on the person in front of you.

Along the way, volunteers hand you your NYC Marathon completion medal. They seem to be genuinely proud of you, which I must admit felt quite nice. Another set of volunteers hands you a snack comprising a banana, a bagel, and a chocolate bar. Bottles of water are available as well.

Eventually, I reached a point where I could sit and eat my snack. When I finished, I looked for my UPS truck. There must have been dozens of trucks parked there, just one component of an amazingly vast operation.

In my bag was an extra bottle of my favorite Gatorade. I enjoyed it as I walked to Lincoln Center where I had agreed to meet my friends. My energy was returning and my enthusiasm along with it. I wasn't experiencing any pain or apparent injury. And I had completed the New York City Marathon, an experience that I would remember and cherish for the rest of my days.

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Congratulations to Jim and Maria

Congratulations to Jim and Maria! It was an honor to serve as a witness at your civil wedding ceremony today. Wishing you a lifetime of happiness and meaningful moments!

Intelligent, Sexy Women

The SEXIEST women that I have ever met were also the most INTELLIGENT. Being able to think critically and discuss interesting ideas is extremely attractive. It adds a rich and compelling dimension to a person's sex appeal.

Lord of the Rings

Lord of the Rings - It was a fun story, but I'll never understand all of the fuss over one little piece of jewelry.

Saturday, October 12, 2013

Famous Names That You Could Give To Your Penis

Famous Names That You Could Give To Your Penis - If Your Penis Were Into That Sort Of Thing

Dirty Harry
Marshall Dillon
John Shaft
Maxwell Smart

Darth Vader
Colonel Klink
Sergeant Schultz
Mr. Spock

Sam Spade
Sputnik
Spielberg
Spiderman

Rocky
Romeo
Rasputin
Richard III

Jim Brown
Jim Johnson
Jim Thorpe
Dick Butkus

Howard Hughes
John Wayne
Cecil B.
Citizen Kane

Charlie Chaplin
Sammy Davis
Bob Hope
James Earl Jones

General Patton
Harry Truman
President Johnson
President Bush

Felix Unger
Oscar Madison
Black Leather Elvis
Forrest Hump

Caesar
Pharaoh
Caligula
Genghis Khan

Perry Mason
Jimmy Olsen
Clark Kent
Sherlock ("Holmes")

Adrian Peterson

I feel terribly for Adrian Peterson of the Minnesota Vikings. Peterson's two-year-old son died after being beaten by the child's mother's boyfriend. The boyfriend had been charged previously for abuse. A more utterly senseless tragedy I cannot imagine.

Cannonball

The first piece of music to play on the internal jukebox this morning was Cannonball by Weather Report, Josef Zawinul's tribute to his late bandleader, Cannonball Adderley. It's one of Zawinul's finest and most moving compositions, in my opinion.

As a young man studying music I loved the beauty of the piece. But I was also struck by the fact that it wasn't mournful or overly sentimental. The predominant emotion is joy, the joy that the two men shared together on stage, the vibrant relationship between the mentor and his brilliant student, not sadness for the older man's eventual demise. Cannonball is a brilliant tribute to Zawinul's old friend and one of the great jazz pioneers.

Friday, September 20, 2013

On Standing in a Line for an iPhone

Some people must love to be miserable. The people who shop on the day after Thanksgiving, for example. Or those idiots who are lining up today to but a new iPhone when they could come back in a day or two when the lines are gone. Is it really that important to buy the stupid thing on Day One?

Saturday, September 14, 2013

Prayer for the Day - 10 September 2013

Prayer for the Day - 10 September 2013

I thank The Lord for His grace and for the limitless bounty that He has provided in my life. I pray for those who are less fortunate. I pray for those who twelve years ago kissed their loved ones goodnight for the last time, for those who were lost on 9/11 and in the conflicts that followed, and the families that have lived with an empty chair at the dinner table ever since.

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Running Against Traffic

I was running south on one of New York's avenues today enjoying the sunshine on a 7.5 mile run. A guy on a bike passes me and shouts: "You're going against traffic, asshole!"

I make a quick U-turn, caught up to the guy at his cycling speed, and said. "I'm a pedestrian. I am required BY LAW to run facing the traffic."

He turned and shouted, "You're going against traffic, asshole!"

There's an old saying: God must love stupid people, because he sure made a lot of them.

A Brief History Of Sex

1930's - There's a war and a depression going on, and they took our alcohol away. But we still have sex.

1940's - The war is over! Let's celebrate with sex!

1950's - It's not nice to have sex, and make sure that you don't ENJOY it.

1960's - Wow! I can have sex with just about anyone!

1970's - Wow! I've had sex with just about everyone!

1980's - Holy shit! I'm glad I didn't have sex with someone who had AIDS.

1990's - Take this pill. It will help you have better sex.

2000's - Do yoga. It will help you have better sex.

2010's - Oh no! Everyone I've had sex with is on Facebook!

Saturday, August 24, 2013

Cynical Soliloquies - Volume 1

- You are unique! You are different than everyone else. That's why no one likes you.

- Bad breath will come back. Bad dreams can recur. But bad neighbors never go away.

- No matter what happens, maintain a positive attitude. The business world relies on a good supply of suckers.

- The Optimist believes that the glass is half full because the Pessimist figured out that he could serve the guy only half a glass, and he still wouldn't complain.

- If you don't work hard, you'll be thrown out. If you DO work hard, you'll get WORN out, and when you can't keep the pace up anymore, you'll be thrown out. Given the choice, save your energy.

- Always remember that you are not your past. You are not your parents, and you are not your mistakes. But your parents will always remember your past mistakes.

- His bark is worse than his bite. Unless he bites you.

- A penny saved is not going to make up for all of the dollars that you've squandered. But hey, it's a start!

- Some days it just doesn't pay to get up in the morning. Actually, it never pays to get up in the morning. No one ever got paid to roll out of bed.

- Mean is synonymous with Average. Think of what that signifies. The average person is mean. And mean people are average. Half of the population is meaner than average. No wonder life can be so unpleasant!

- Is it really an ad hominem attack when you let some inflexible, argumentative person know that they're a complete idiot? Right. I didn't think so.

- Two women walked past on their lunch break. One was informing the other that she had just received a two dollar refund from Lysol. I recognize that everyone has different priorities. But if that's all that I had to discuss on my lunch break, I'd look for ways to add some excitement to my life.

- Life is unusually kind to schmoozers, suck-ups and brown-nosers. There is nothing that you can do to change this. It is one of the unfair and unfortunate realities of human society. Don't waste time resenting these folks or hoping to witness their downfall. Just focus on your work, your family and your interests, and keep what's important in mind.

Sunday, August 11, 2013

Breakthrough

I have been devoting considerable time and effort to a new creative project. A few days ago I realized that part of it was not working out as well as expected.

My first thought was that I could fix the problematic part if I devoted more time and energy to it. Soon, I realized that it would be better to scrap it and start over.

I spent a few hours coming up with something new. It was better than the the first version, but still not up to my standards. I trashed version 2, as well.

Last evening, I spent a few hours on version 3, and I am finally pleased with the results. I had my breakthrough.

The important thing to remember is that the breakthrough would not have been possible if I hadn't invested the time on those earlier versions. Strictly speaking, I wasted several hours on bad ideas, but in the end it wasn't a waste at all. My missteps directed me to where I needed to go. They clarified my vision, and they demonstrated gaps in my understanding that I would need to resolve before I could create the final product.

Don't fret over missteps, delays, or missed opportunities. The path to a goal rarely follows a straight line. We need to meander from idea to idea while we formulate a more complete vision, build critical skills, and forge the final expression of that vision into a polished form.

Welcome ambiguity. Work through frustration. Understand each roadblock and learn from each experience what you'll need to know in order to advance to the next level. Be willing to give up on a bad idea - or five-hundred of them - but never give up on your dreams.

South Of Someplace