As predicted, I haven't had much to say around here while I wait to be contacted by the investigative committee.
Another factor that has contributed to my relative quiet is the Moleskine pocket journal I bought about a month ago, and have been using as a basic, old fashioned, more-or-less daily journal... an exercise that for some reason felt stranger than maintaining a weblog for the first week or so.
I got over that fairly quickly, and have already gone on to buy a Lamy Vista fountain pen to write with. The act of writing is quite pleasant and altogether different than sitting at a keyboard and typing. Once you put aside conceits about your "audience" and acknowledge that your audience is really yourself (and maybe curious future descendants,) you are free to jot down whatever's on your mind without having the luxury of changing words or sentences here or there, or worrying if it's profound enough to share with the anonymous public.
I'm sure I'll have more public thoughts once the application process starts back up in September, though.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Early Results
One thing that has precipitated out of this whole process already is that I find myself using the telephone to contact people, instead of sending e-mails. I've been living on the internet for most of the last 10 years both personally and professionally, and I have come to prefer e-mail to telephone in many ways. It has less potential to disrupt me (when receiving a call) or someone else (when making a call), and it affords me the ability to compose my thoughts very carefully and make sure I make all of the points I wish to make or ask all of the questions I want to ask. Years of bad customer service have not done much to encourage me to use
the phone either.
E-mail is usually fine, if not preferable, among my tech-savvy friends, but I am realizing that it's very limiting to define one's friends in terms of how willing someone is to e-mail you. Masonic communications aside, I'm getting in touch with other acquaintances via telephone, too. Yesterday I ran into my friend L., a fiddler and luthier that I used to play with most every week at a nearby old-time session. I never got to know him very well outside those sessions, and when that session got cancelled by the host venue last fall I fell out of touch with him. When I bumped into him, he seemed to be in a bit of a hurry (as was I) and we didn't really have much of a conversation. I felt badly afterward, and so today I resolved to call him up and try to re-establish that connection. I had to leave him a voice-mail, but that's OK. I hope to talk to him soon.
L. is the perfect example of the sort of person I should really call instead of e-mail; he has an e-mail address and checks it regularly I'm sure, but I get the impression it's an auxiliary mode of communication for him. And of course these days you never know if your message is going into someone's spam folder... and if it does, you never know if they even know about their spam folder.
So yes, as strange as it sounds I would call getting re-acquainted with the telephone self-improvement... and me not even an Entered Apprentice yet.
the phone either.
E-mail is usually fine, if not preferable, among my tech-savvy friends, but I am realizing that it's very limiting to define one's friends in terms of how willing someone is to e-mail you. Masonic communications aside, I'm getting in touch with other acquaintances via telephone, too. Yesterday I ran into my friend L., a fiddler and luthier that I used to play with most every week at a nearby old-time session. I never got to know him very well outside those sessions, and when that session got cancelled by the host venue last fall I fell out of touch with him. When I bumped into him, he seemed to be in a bit of a hurry (as was I) and we didn't really have much of a conversation. I felt badly afterward, and so today I resolved to call him up and try to re-establish that connection. I had to leave him a voice-mail, but that's OK. I hope to talk to him soon.
L. is the perfect example of the sort of person I should really call instead of e-mail; he has an e-mail address and checks it regularly I'm sure, but I get the impression it's an auxiliary mode of communication for him. And of course these days you never know if your message is going into someone's spam folder... and if it does, you never know if they even know about their spam folder.
So yes, as strange as it sounds I would call getting re-acquainted with the telephone self-improvement... and me not even an Entered Apprentice yet.
Thursday, July 5, 2007
Bill Meikle
I am very saddened to learn just now that Bill Meikle, a well-known Benjamin Franklin impersonator/interpreter in Massachusetts, passed away at the end of last year.
I was lucky enough to have Bill Meikle visit my rural, central Massachusetts elementary school in the 1980's-- I think I was in fifth grade, but I may be off by a year. I assume my class did a unit of study about Benjamin Franklin before Mr. Meikle's visit, so that we would have something to ask him about besides his funny shoes. He probably also recounted an autobiographical tale before the Q & A session.
He sat amongst all us kids in full 18th century dress and answered questions in character. It's unfortunate that my strongest memory of the event is of some wise-ass classmate asking an irrelevant/irreverent question in an attempt to get him to break character. Mr. Meikle handled it deftly (I'm sure he was used to it,) remaining firmly in character and dismissing the question in exactly the wry/clever/slightly testy tone you imagine Benjamin Franklin would use if you were wasting his time.
I remember we were all old enough to think that it was a little bit cheesy - but Bill Meikle was very good at what he did and he really did bring Benjamin Franklin to life, making him a lot more real to me than a name in history books. To this day, none of the other founding fathers resonate as strongly with me as Franklin... I have no trouble imagining what it might be like to raise a pint or two with Ben Franklin, but most of the others are so many names in so many books.
I never forgot a name like "Bill Meikle", but I didn't know how that 'frankling' was the man's life work until I heard him interviewed on NPR early last year. How it took me back! There are a handful of people I encountered as an elementary school kid whose hands I would like to shake as a grown man, and tell them they that got through to at least one kid. Bill Meikle is one of them. I am sorry to learn that I won't have that chance in this life.
I was lucky enough to have Bill Meikle visit my rural, central Massachusetts elementary school in the 1980's-- I think I was in fifth grade, but I may be off by a year. I assume my class did a unit of study about Benjamin Franklin before Mr. Meikle's visit, so that we would have something to ask him about besides his funny shoes. He probably also recounted an autobiographical tale before the Q & A session.
He sat amongst all us kids in full 18th century dress and answered questions in character. It's unfortunate that my strongest memory of the event is of some wise-ass classmate asking an irrelevant/irreverent question in an attempt to get him to break character. Mr. Meikle handled it deftly (I'm sure he was used to it,) remaining firmly in character and dismissing the question in exactly the wry/clever/slightly testy tone you imagine Benjamin Franklin would use if you were wasting his time.
I remember we were all old enough to think that it was a little bit cheesy - but Bill Meikle was very good at what he did and he really did bring Benjamin Franklin to life, making him a lot more real to me than a name in history books. To this day, none of the other founding fathers resonate as strongly with me as Franklin... I have no trouble imagining what it might be like to raise a pint or two with Ben Franklin, but most of the others are so many names in so many books.
I never forgot a name like "Bill Meikle", but I didn't know how that 'frankling' was the man's life work until I heard him interviewed on NPR early last year. How it took me back! There are a handful of people I encountered as an elementary school kid whose hands I would like to shake as a grown man, and tell them they that got through to at least one kid. Bill Meikle is one of them. I am sorry to learn that I won't have that chance in this life.
Monday, July 2, 2007
Lull
Since I began subscribing to RSS feeds of a dozen or so Masonic weblogs over the last several weeks, there have usually been half a dozen entries to peruse throughout the course of a day.
Yesterday and today, though, not a single post. It is curiously like the fabled seven minute conversational lull. (A factoid of dubious provenance, perhaps fabricated as a means to kick-start said lulled conversations.)
For my own part, I think I am settling into the July-and-August waiting game. I attended the aforementioned pancake breakfast on Saturday morning, where I got to see a lovely 95 year-old Masonic hall and talk to several more brothers. I had a good time and left with my excitement renewed... but also with a bit of a glum outside-the-Wonka-Factory feeling. I will definitely be returning to visit once I have a dues card, and I was also pleased to see that there's a Royal Arch chapter which meets there.
Speaking of looking ahead to visiting other lodges and exploring the York Rite: At this point I find myself qualifying a lot of thoughts with the phrase, "but that's putting the cart ahead of the horse." I am conflicted about thinking ahead: on the one hand, I don't want to just assume that I will be inducted. On the other hand, I have no reason to think that I won't be.
Deep down, though, I must admit to myself that I really have been assuming I will be inducted... it is not an unreasonable assumption given the fraternity's eagerness for new members and my good standing as a citizen/among the friends and colleagues I listed as references. I think the qualifying statements are more to temper my confidence and enthusiasm in hopes that I won't come across as outright brash.
Yesterday and today, though, not a single post. It is curiously like the fabled seven minute conversational lull. (A factoid of dubious provenance, perhaps fabricated as a means to kick-start said lulled conversations.)
For my own part, I think I am settling into the July-and-August waiting game. I attended the aforementioned pancake breakfast on Saturday morning, where I got to see a lovely 95 year-old Masonic hall and talk to several more brothers. I had a good time and left with my excitement renewed... but also with a bit of a glum outside-the-Wonka-Factory feeling. I will definitely be returning to visit once I have a dues card, and I was also pleased to see that there's a Royal Arch chapter which meets there.
Speaking of looking ahead to visiting other lodges and exploring the York Rite: At this point I find myself qualifying a lot of thoughts with the phrase, "but that's putting the cart ahead of the horse." I am conflicted about thinking ahead: on the one hand, I don't want to just assume that I will be inducted. On the other hand, I have no reason to think that I won't be.
Deep down, though, I must admit to myself that I really have been assuming I will be inducted... it is not an unreasonable assumption given the fraternity's eagerness for new members and my good standing as a citizen/among the friends and colleagues I listed as references. I think the qualifying statements are more to temper my confidence and enthusiasm in hopes that I won't come across as outright brash.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Mason's Apron
I just came across an Irish fiddle tune called Mason's Apron, which I will clearly have to learn how to play.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Toxic Attitudes
A week or two ago I began using a small, spiral-bound pocket memo book for jotting down shopping lists, books to look up later, phone numbers, notes, and so on. This was an evolution of my previous Hipster PDA methodology of tearing used letter-sized paper into quarters and binding it together with clips. That was OK, and I always felt good about pre-recycling all that paper, but it always felt kind of ghetto and wasn't really a thing you could slip into your pocket. The clip would dig into your thigh, and the whole thing would fall apart when trying to pull it out.
I have been loving the memo book, but as I began to embrace it enthusiastically it too began to feel a little bit shabby and flimsy. The spiral binding was none too comfortable in a hip pocket, either.
Last night I decided to upgrade, and purchased a Moleskine plain pocket notebook.
Right about now you're probably either silently welcoming me into the Moleskine fold as a Lodge welcomes a newly Entered Apprentice, or you're rolling your eyes and writing me off as another hipster geek, appalled that I would spend that kind of money on a lousy old notebook, and convinced that I only did so because of its popularity.
It's true that some (probably a lot) of people out there have purchased these little black books just because all the other cool people use them. I sought out the Moleskine brand specifically because of all the good word of mouth I had heard... fad or not, there's got to be a seed of truth in there somewhere.
I was not disappointed... and, much like the first time I got my hands on Mac OS X, I have become an instant convert and unpaid salesperson for the Modo E Modo company. Yes, this simple 192 page book cost several hundred percent more than the Mead spiral-bound equivalent, but it is quality. Nice cream-colored paper, thread-binding, sturdy and attractive cover, cloth bookmark, elastic cover band, and a pocket inside the back cover. The thing just sits there and screams at me to pick it up and write in it. It is stylish and functional in the way that pushes my aesthetics button repeatedly. It's a dreadfully tired saying, but you do get what you pay for... and while you might classify Moleskines as a luxury, as luxuries go they're a darn sight more affordable than, say, designer handbags or handmade italian shoes.
And write in my new notebook I have! I can't help but think of it as "offline blogging," which is a perverse way of looking at things considering how many thousands of years humans have been writing things on paper or papyrus. It has been 15 years since I kept a written journal of "deep thoughts" for my high school Humanities class. Journals were to be turned in once a week, at which point the teacher (the best I ever had) would read them and write responsive comments in the margins. After the course ended I continued the paper journal exercise for a while and then migrated to electronic entries on my state of the art Amiga 500, but I ultimately gave it up... without my audience of one, it felt strange to be writing into the void.
I started blogging about 6 years ago, but until I began The Examined Life I rarely ventured into the deep-thinking territory of my humanities journal. There is something about this kind of thinking that lends itself to real, physical writing, and I think I may be headed in that direction. Somebody else out there must be writing a weblog by hand and then posting scans of it online - I haven't gone looking yet, but I'm kind of intrigued/amused by the idea. I would of course include transcripts to keep search engine bots happy.
I am sidetracking myself! About toxic attitudes: When I went searching for Moleskine organizational tips (some people add tabs to divide the book into sections, some people number the pages for future easy reference, some people keep post-it notes in the pocket, et cetera,) I encountered a great deal of backlash against the whole Moleskine phenomenon. The eye-rolling I can take... but the pat dismissal of the notebooks AND anyone who uses them as trendy/shallow/wanna-be/impostors/et cetera goes beyond that. Under the surface there seems to be a deeply entrenched attitude in a lot of people around my age, which is to immediately dismiss the notion of anyone taking anything seriously, or having a real passion for something in life.
Oh, you like wine? Probably jumped on the bandwagon after that Sideways movie.
Oh, you play the banjo? Yee-haw! Banjo = Hillbilly rape! Play that song from Deliverance!
Oh, you collect bladed weapons? What, do you still play Dungeons & Dragons in your parents' basement?
Freedom of religion? Freedom from religion, I say! I'm an atheist and anyone who's not an atheist is a small-minded sheep!
(Examples chosen arbitrarily and don't have much to do with me specifically. Except the banjo part - trust me, if you want to tick off a banjo player, start stomping your feet and slapping your knee, or ask them to play Foggy Mountain Breakdown or Dueling Banjos.)
Nothing is ever genuine enough, everyone's a poser, and nothing seems to really matter to anyone. Mine is the generation that turns its back on their favorite musical acts once they make it big, because if you become wildly successful from pursuing your passion, you've "sold out."
If you're incapable of being inspired or passionate about anything, damned if you're going to validate my inspirations or passions. So in the end, life is just one big negative snarkfest. This is not a new phenomenon, either; one of my favorite Simpsons moments ever is from an episode that aired in 1996:
Whatever it is, I'm tired of it, and discovering the many articulate, passionate voices of Freemasonry online has been a breath of fresh air. It's not just about Freemasonry itself. After much reading over the last month or so I have a better understanding about why brothers like to talk so much about how great it is to be a Mason, but I still think that ultimately turns into a feedback loop if it's all you talk about. It is encouraging to see some of the Masonic weblogs I'm reading touch on other personal interests with that same passion and enthusiasm.
Next step, procuring a fountain pen - another thing I used in high school and then abandoned as most of my written school work went digital. I would also like to improve my handwriting so that my scribblings look like those of a 32 year old, not a 12 year old.
I have been loving the memo book, but as I began to embrace it enthusiastically it too began to feel a little bit shabby and flimsy. The spiral binding was none too comfortable in a hip pocket, either.
Last night I decided to upgrade, and purchased a Moleskine plain pocket notebook.
Right about now you're probably either silently welcoming me into the Moleskine fold as a Lodge welcomes a newly Entered Apprentice, or you're rolling your eyes and writing me off as another hipster geek, appalled that I would spend that kind of money on a lousy old notebook, and convinced that I only did so because of its popularity.
It's true that some (probably a lot) of people out there have purchased these little black books just because all the other cool people use them. I sought out the Moleskine brand specifically because of all the good word of mouth I had heard... fad or not, there's got to be a seed of truth in there somewhere.
I was not disappointed... and, much like the first time I got my hands on Mac OS X, I have become an instant convert and unpaid salesperson for the Modo E Modo company. Yes, this simple 192 page book cost several hundred percent more than the Mead spiral-bound equivalent, but it is quality. Nice cream-colored paper, thread-binding, sturdy and attractive cover, cloth bookmark, elastic cover band, and a pocket inside the back cover. The thing just sits there and screams at me to pick it up and write in it. It is stylish and functional in the way that pushes my aesthetics button repeatedly. It's a dreadfully tired saying, but you do get what you pay for... and while you might classify Moleskines as a luxury, as luxuries go they're a darn sight more affordable than, say, designer handbags or handmade italian shoes.
And write in my new notebook I have! I can't help but think of it as "offline blogging," which is a perverse way of looking at things considering how many thousands of years humans have been writing things on paper or papyrus. It has been 15 years since I kept a written journal of "deep thoughts" for my high school Humanities class. Journals were to be turned in once a week, at which point the teacher (the best I ever had) would read them and write responsive comments in the margins. After the course ended I continued the paper journal exercise for a while and then migrated to electronic entries on my state of the art Amiga 500, but I ultimately gave it up... without my audience of one, it felt strange to be writing into the void.
I started blogging about 6 years ago, but until I began The Examined Life I rarely ventured into the deep-thinking territory of my humanities journal. There is something about this kind of thinking that lends itself to real, physical writing, and I think I may be headed in that direction. Somebody else out there must be writing a weblog by hand and then posting scans of it online - I haven't gone looking yet, but I'm kind of intrigued/amused by the idea. I would of course include transcripts to keep search engine bots happy.
I am sidetracking myself! About toxic attitudes: When I went searching for Moleskine organizational tips (some people add tabs to divide the book into sections, some people number the pages for future easy reference, some people keep post-it notes in the pocket, et cetera,) I encountered a great deal of backlash against the whole Moleskine phenomenon. The eye-rolling I can take... but the pat dismissal of the notebooks AND anyone who uses them as trendy/shallow/wanna-be/impostors/et cetera goes beyond that. Under the surface there seems to be a deeply entrenched attitude in a lot of people around my age, which is to immediately dismiss the notion of anyone taking anything seriously, or having a real passion for something in life.
Oh, you like wine? Probably jumped on the bandwagon after that Sideways movie.
Oh, you play the banjo? Yee-haw! Banjo = Hillbilly rape! Play that song from Deliverance!
Oh, you collect bladed weapons? What, do you still play Dungeons & Dragons in your parents' basement?
Freedom of religion? Freedom from religion, I say! I'm an atheist and anyone who's not an atheist is a small-minded sheep!
(Examples chosen arbitrarily and don't have much to do with me specifically. Except the banjo part - trust me, if you want to tick off a banjo player, start stomping your feet and slapping your knee, or ask them to play Foggy Mountain Breakdown or Dueling Banjos.)
Nothing is ever genuine enough, everyone's a poser, and nothing seems to really matter to anyone. Mine is the generation that turns its back on their favorite musical acts once they make it big, because if you become wildly successful from pursuing your passion, you've "sold out."
If you're incapable of being inspired or passionate about anything, damned if you're going to validate my inspirations or passions. So in the end, life is just one big negative snarkfest. This is not a new phenomenon, either; one of my favorite Simpsons moments ever is from an episode that aired in 1996:
- Teen 1: Oh, here comes that cannonball guy. *He's* cool.
Teen 2: Are you being sarcastic, dude?
Teen 1: I don't even know anymore. - (Episode: 3F21 Homerpalooza)
Whatever it is, I'm tired of it, and discovering the many articulate, passionate voices of Freemasonry online has been a breath of fresh air. It's not just about Freemasonry itself. After much reading over the last month or so I have a better understanding about why brothers like to talk so much about how great it is to be a Mason, but I still think that ultimately turns into a feedback loop if it's all you talk about. It is encouraging to see some of the Masonic weblogs I'm reading touch on other personal interests with that same passion and enthusiasm.
Next step, procuring a fountain pen - another thing I used in high school and then abandoned as most of my written school work went digital. I would also like to improve my handwriting so that my scribblings look like those of a 32 year old, not a 12 year old.
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