April, Memories, and Vulnerability

Pooh sizedGood evening from my office (aka: home away from home),

It has been a busy and productive day . . . that is both a good thing and a necessary thing. I have already addressed that requirement, but it seems to be happening. In the next week and a half, there are four dates in April that held significance for me: on the 11th, Mr. Clare Swaby, my father’s eldest brother-in-law was born in 1892. That date sort of boggles my head. That is a really long time ago. He was such an amazing man. I do not think he went to school beyond the 4th grade and yet he was one of the most knowledgeable people I have ever met when it came to knowing plants, animals or birds that inhabited a particular geographic area. In addition, he was one of the more colorful people I have ever met or known. The second date is the 14th. Interestingly, that is the birthday of both my adoptive father, which I regard as my real father as well as my second wife, Theresa. While I will tell his age if he were alive, I will not do the same regarding Theresa. My father would be 99 years old on this coming Monday. That is also amazing to me. If you have read my blog over the years, you know that he is a very important person and a very wise person. In a previous blog I once wrote that he had been dead for X number of years, but he was still getting smarter. It is still the case. He was brilliant, but more importantly, he was wise. He understood people. I wish I had that gift. The third date is the 20th, which was my parents’ wedding anniversary. They were married in 1940. If my mother would have lived another 8 months, they would have been married 50 years. I certainly look at the marriage very differently than I did growing up, but nevertheless, they were married 2/3s of my father’s life when she passed away. The last date is the 29th of April and that is the day my sister, Kristina (Kris) passed away. It is hard to believe that is already 6 years ago. She was only 51 years old. She was actually my real birth-sister. It reminds me that there is another sister somewhere. I find myself at this moment wondering where she is and what kind of a person she might be.

When I knew that I was moving back to Pennsylvania the second time, I traveled back home to Iowa to see my older cousins, and to actually visit the cemetery where my relatives are buried, It was really very moving as I stood in Graceland Cemetery and I could look out and see 3 or 4 generations of my family plots in a 500 yard space. It was a bit unfathomable to me that I was the only left in my generation in my family. I still find that a bit disconcerting. There are times I get caught up in the idea that there must be a reason. There are other times that I feel it just is. I am not sure what my position is on all of that right now. I cannot say I have jettisoned any idea of a God. It is too engrained in my DNA, my education, my experiences, my own memories. It is one of those things where I think I need a serious conversation about the what-ifs versus the what if not . . .  I probably even feel a twinge of guilt for having such a struggle, but then again, that is what faith is . . .  a battle. I do believe you have to argue, fight and question it. Without it being “purified” if I can use that image, it cannot be something that really holds someone up in the difficult times. And yet, even that seems cliche’ to me at the moment. It is something with which I need to have some intentional time, and perhaps sooner than later.

As I was working with some of my students today, four have come in during the last two days to check and file their minor completion form. There are some very strong students in that group and it has been a pleasure to work with them. I was speaking with one in particular today and she is both excited and frightened and for all of the appropriate reasons. It is such a different world to be walking into now than it was all those years ago when I graduated with my undergraduate degree. We were in a pretty difficult recession then also, but I knew I was merely continuing on to graduate school and I had been accepted so I did not have to worry. What I am realizing is that each time I have been in the position to find something new (and some of those times have been intense), However, I have always had options, and reasonable options. I think the only time I really found myself in the situation of having no idea of what was next was when I got out of the service. However, that was a very different time. I was just a boy then.

So . . . I will admit that I just got my ass kicked by a copier and it frustrated the bejebbers out of me . . . and I got chastised, but deservingly so. One of my most vulnerable areas is when I feel stupid and people see me looking stupid. I understand that it is part of our humanity. Thank goodness that someone is willing to put up with my stupidity for a bit. I will still get what I wanted printed off. And then, of course, knowing that my little tantrum was witnessed is even more embarrassing. Part of that is because I do have some technological savviness, but it certainly left my body a bit ago. I am actually getting it as a PDF, which is good thing. So why do I get so upset? I think I know what that cause is, but I also know that I should not continue to allow myself to be victimized by that memory. I think it is feeling belittled and stupid that is still the most damaging to who I am. That damage continues to mount this evening as I am actually trying to still post this and I am writing for the sixth time. I have actually spent almost two hours. Frustrated, but not yet swearing, and foolish, or so it seems, but not yet quitting. So . . . it is back to what I was trying to continue to write.

I am really struggling with exhaustion and what it does to my body, but I need to finish this post. I was writing each time now about memory and the power it has over us as individuals. Memory has the power to ground us and help us understand who we are or it has the power to paralyze us because we cannot get beyond it. It has the ability, in fact I will contend It plays a major role in us forming our identity. Conversely, it has the ability to destroy what we believe or hold dear, and thereby stealing our identity. As I once wrote in a paper, what happens when we lose ourselves? Who are we then? How do we get ourselves back? Memories are important for if we do not have them, we have no past . . . if we have no past, we cannot really look toward a future because it would not make sense. I think there are times we might believe ourselves happier if we could merely forget, but I do not believe it is that easy. We have to have both the good and the evil of that ability. It is what both Paul said in Romans and what Luther struggled with in his paradoxical systematic. At this point, I would like to write more, but that is for another time. I believe I have to pay attention to issues at hand. My body in the last two hours has managed again to force me to pay attention. This time, however, the pain is a combination of both the process and my self-inflicted stupidity. Amazing how vulnerable I am, or became, because I could not use the copier or did not know how to turn off my phone. It is true, I am, at times, that inept. Back to the beginning of my post: Uncle Clare, Happy 122nd Birthday! Dad, I wish you an amazing 99th birthday from here to wherever you are. I am so proud to be your son; I hope you are proud of how far I have come. I love you even today. So . . . now off to manage my intestines. I guess, at least, on the positive side of things, I do know what needs to be done. Last, but certainly not least: muchas gracias para su ayuda con la copiadora esta noche y para crear el PDF de la lectura. Gracias por recordarme, claramente, yo podría añadir, que yo tenía opciones en vez de ser frustrado simplemente. Perdóneme para no preguntarle más pronto; perdóneme para crear un final triste a lo que había sido un día bueno, pienso. Gracias por la sopa deliciosa. Lo que es más importante espero que el que estudia vaya bien y le deseo mucho éxito en su examen mañana.

Thanks to everyone who seems to read what I post.

Michael (aka: un hombre a veces tonto, vulnerable, y estúpido)

Pain is Weakness Leaving my Body

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Good evening,

I am back in my office and working on a variety of tasks, but at the top of the list is my tenure statement, which is due to my departmental committee next Monday. The title of the post is a slogan printed on the side of a water bottle that was a gift from the Marine Corps Recruiter when I did the boot camp birthday party for Max Decker last year. When I was in my 20s I think I might have even believed that slogan, but at the age I have reached at this point, I am reminded that I have more mornings where I might exclaim, “Good Lord, Morning” rather than “Good Morning, Lord!” The past couple of days have been long and hard . . . between merely managing tasks, managing the tenure work, and other things, the stress has gotten the better of me. I hate when it seems to take control of what I can and cannot do. I have actually considered my life from early on thinking about how stress has affected me. Long before I was diagnosed with any form of an IBD, I remember as an elementary-aged boy that whenever I was stressed or worried about something, it affected my insides. Now, a half century later, I am not really much different. The difference is what has been done to my digestive tract in that time. As a consequence, the effect of stress or other struggles seems almost instantaneous. That is the frustrating part.

I told someone today that losing blood was a normal thing and the look of “are you an alien?” was actually a bit amusing. I know that is not what was being thought, but the look was rather priceless. This evening I back in the office, but I did get a two hour nap earlier this evening. That is a good thing. I am not sure I have the stamina to pull a second all-nighter. I hate admitting that. I think of when I was a student at Dana and I was often up (usually four nights a week) until 4:00 a,m. studying. It was common for me to get by on an hour or two of sleep . . . and I played racquetball often. I also ate like a little pig, but I burned off all of the calories. That is another thing that has changed since then. That amazing metabolism has flown away. I remember that Basal Metabolic Rate (BMR) experiment in that Anatomy and Physiology class with Dr. Stone. I could really burn through the calories and I was actually 27 or 28 years old. I think I lost most of that around the time I hit 40 or 41. I still remember sitting on the couch of some friends’ house. I had just bought 34″ waist jeans and I was sure I had become the proverbial “fat toad”. Somehow that has never gone away. Much to my chagrin and the consternation of someone else when I speak about it. It is interesting even now with losing 19 pounds in 5 weeks when I look in the mirror I still see places where I need to redistribute or eliminate even more. And I do not believe I have a disorder, I think it is merely realizing that what I could do at one point is no longer really an option.

That actually gets to a different issue and that issue is my own discipline and my priorities. I understand that, certainly, at this moment I have to focus on the tenure documentation at hand. It is and must be a priority. Second, I need to continue to do what I am doing diet-wise. I am really quite amazed what I have been able to drop merely changing my diet. What I need to do now is get back to the gym. The problem is I put it off. I can find a 101 reasons (and they are not Dalmatians) for not getting my fat-ass to the gym. Those reasons are merely rationalizations, justifications, poor excuses for not doing what I should simply do. I am actually at about the weight I want to be . . .  within 10 pounds. I simply need to tone, tighten, and quit being content with looking like 20 pounds of $(T^&*& in a 10 pound bag. If going back to Marine Corps boot camp wouldn’t kill me, I would do it for a summer job. I am going to work on something this summer. It has to happen.

I am actually feeling better at this point. It has been a long couple days and I had little to no voice. I do have some grading left to do before I finish up the night that I want to have done for my Foundations of College Writing courses. I am almost finished with the drafts of their reflective statements for their ePortfolios. I also finished up a couple of other simple, but necessary tasks. As I sit in my office, I am listening to Celtic music, which actually inspires me. My mentee (one of them) stopped by with his roommate for a while and I think we got some things accomplished there too. He is such a capable student, if he would only really put in the time. I only wish I would have been that smart in college. He does not realize the gift he has, or, perhaps he does and that is why he slacks and then bails himself out at the last possible moment. It is so frustrating. I always had to work hard for what I got. It was not until the actually pretty recent past that I began to believe that I am perhaps smart. As I have noted, it is not that I thought I was incapable, but I never saw myself as other than ordinary. That was certainly the case in high school. I still remember when Ms. Coacher, my 7th grade geography teacher gave me a C for a course and she told me that she was deeply disappointed that I had earned only a C in her class. At the time, I was content with my C. I figured it was good enough. Amazing what I have learned since then.

That actually relates back to my title. Learning is almost always painful in someway. If we are truly learning something, change is taking place and change does not come easily. There is always a cost to making a change and the first thing it forces is for us to move outside our comfort zones. It is that move to something that is not as familiar, nor as easy, nor as routine. I have been reminded of that again as of late. I have become pretty comfortable in my solitude. I have actually loved being alone and being able to shut the door on the outside world. My house, my home, was my sanctuary. Yet what I realize now is that it was merely a place I usually exist. It is interesting what happens when we shutter ourselves from the rest of the world. It has been amazing to make the change of opening the door whether for a dinner, studying, taking exams or other. What I am learning is that being able to share that place into which I have put a lot of work is a good thing. It makes me realize that sharing is always better than ignoring. Sharing what I have been blessed with allows for blessings, and not merely just for me. Well, it is a bit after 1:00 in the morning and both my eyes and my brain are fading.

Thanks for reading as always.

Dr. Martin

Four Weeks and A Wake-up

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Hello on a cold and rainy April morning,

As I write this, I am not sure what is up with either the weather or my voice at the moment. Yesterday might have been the nicest day we have had thus far this Spring (or the end of the never-ending Winter). I am tired of cold, dreary, and damp. I need some sunshine and I need it now . . . not being as patient as I might be, but I am merely fed up with all of this. I am tired of the winter and what it does to my psyche. At least this rain today is not snow. It might also be affected by the fact that I have minimal voice today and I feel a bit under the weather. Very seldom am I cold, but I think I am today. I am sitting in my office with the heater running and with my jacket on. That is generally not a good sign.

It is hard for me to fathom that we are into the last four weeks of the semester. I worked so hard before spring break to get caught up and I walked into the second half of the semester in relatively good shape. Somehow that has all disappeared and it is not like I have been sitting on my hands over the last two-three weeks. I just wonder where the time goes and then how much more quickly it seems to go. I  know as a student I always found these last weeks to be a bit overwhelming. What I have found out in the last 20 years is that it is not any different on the other side. In fact, while it might be because I am experiencing it now and the other is a bit of a distant memory, I think I might argue that this side of that equation is more difficult. I think there is more responsibility and when we do not do something, the consequences are felt or seen by a lot more people.

Over the weekend I got a number of things done from schoolwork to small projects around the house. I felt pretty productive because there are things I had not really gotten to since I moved into the house. It is hard to believe that it has been almost two years since I moved to Lightstreet. I am pretty content with my dwelling at the moment. It was nice to have my niece there last week, as noted in my previous post. I actually grilled out yesterday and had dinner guests. It was a great evening, in spite of the cancellation of one, who, ironically, was the person who set it up from the outset. It taught be more the differences in people. I am always amazed by those differences, regardless of genetics. When my three eldest nephews and niece (two and one) were small, I babysat them a lot after my brother passed away. I was always astounded by how different they were. In spite of the same genetics, they were profoundly different in their personalities; how they managed their issues; and what they deemed important. To this day that remains as true as it was back then. It is simply the truth. I learned that lesson again this weekend.

During the next week, I have to put together my tenure statement and packet. I have been working on it and I have all my documentation in a pretty organized fashion. Over the next couple days, I need to write and tabulate, collate and whatever other kinds of “ates” I can manage. I am always stumped by the anxiety that comes with these sort of tasks. You know that other people have survived it because they are tenured; they are still here. However, I never imagine that I am going to survive this next gauntlet. I have survived everyone (with one exception or maybe two -Yikes, I better not start counting those!!) and I am still going. It is merely making sure that I manage things in a timely and orderly manner, but that is the secret to life in general. Except, it is not really a secret, though I am not sure one might believe that when they look at what some people do.

The title of the posting is a reminder that these next four weeks that should be my mantra “organization and timeliness”. I know that I have a propensity for that from the outset, but there are times I am certainly not as effective of efficient as I could be. This is certainly not a time for any inefficiency or procrastination . . . and before you say that this is procrastination, it actually clears my head and gets my fingers (which are hurting because of two small cuts on the very tips, which makes typing a pain) moving. I have learned that doing this writing gets the things rattling around in my head out of my head and that makes room for other things. So now to the other things.

Thanks for reading, as always.

Dr. Martin

The Warranty is Broken

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Good early morning from my study,

In a little over an hour, I have to leave and take my niece to the airport. She has been visiting for about a week, with a short trip to New Jersey, and presented at my Writing for Multiple Media class the other evening. She is an amazing person. She is intelligent, witty, insightful, multi-talented, and one of the very few people I might trust as completely as we conditional humans are able to do. She is also my God-child, and somehow, I guess perhaps it is that difference that has made us close. I am not entirely sure. I will have to pull out a picture of her when she was small (three or so) and post it here if I can find it. 

During the past few weeks I have been reminded of the frailty of life again. It is amazing to me as I was writing something else earlier this morning that I have come this far in life. What does such a statement mean? “What does it mean to be successful?” I found myself writing earlier. What does it mean to say, “I have made it.” Is there truly even such a possibility? Is making it something that needs to wait for the afterlife? Do we make it in this life? What is “it”? While the cliches about life abound and both poetry and writing are full of them, it seems that perhaps life has little meter or rhyme. One of my students, who has been accepted to graduate school will sometimes come into my office and say, “Dr. Martin, you seem melancholy today.” Or more than likely, she has just deemed me as such. What is interesting is she is correct. There is a certainly degree of melancholy that never leaves me. Is it because I was adopted and told I did not belong there? Is it because I have failed in two marriages? Is it because I struggle with a chronic illness and will never have a “normal” body? It is all of these things, and none of them. 

I sometimes wonder, perhaps more often than I should, why does it all matter? and yet, then I find myself trying to work harder, be better, understand more completely, live more successfully . . .  I keep striving to improve my existence and the existence of those around me . . .  sometimes “one sentence fragment” at a time. Ultimately, I do believe it matters in the lives of those I touch. I do believe that somehow making their lives better, more manageable, more hopeful, more prepared is the right thing, the moral thing to do. As someone who works hard, and worked hard to get to where I am (and that is not to say I have done it alone. The names of those who have helped me is legion, and I do not mean that in an evil sense for those who would recognize that reference.). I think that is why I have always seemed to work in, be employed in, perhaps, thrive in, positions where I was around other people. Yet, in my older age, I have also learned that I appreciate my solitude. That is perhaps why it is a good thing that I might miss that which I have not had. It is not the missing, it is the not having. Sometimes, in spite of what people think, I am not as giving as it appears. So perhaps at this point, I am sounding a bit like a selfish bastard, if you will. No  . . . it is not that I am innately selfish or even self-centered, it is that I am not sure I can believe that people will ultimately be there when the chips are down. Perhaps it is that I believe too deeply in Luther’s dyad: “simul justus et peculator”. 

Perhaps it is because at this point I too wonder, in spite of an MDiv, in spite of my life being spared more times than I might even be aware, where is God in all of this? Or is there? While I find myself believing in the divinely inspired nature of the scriptures, I am not that person who believes the Bible to be inerrant or infallible. As a person trained in historical critical method  of biblical interpretation. I do believe in the contextually of those texts, and I already understand that believing that does not have to get me to the point where I question God or God’s intentions. I am not sure I am questioning intentions or even existence. I am merely wondering things that push me beyond the easy “platitudes” of why something is the way it is. I am not content to merely ask the question of why do we find ourselves in the circumstance in which we do – neither do I find it comforting that things seem more temporal that I wish they were. The response that “it just is” seems to be the easy way out. 

So at this point, of what am I certain, you make ask? My answer is “that I seem certain (note the qualifier already) that nothing is certain”. Is that qualifier a sign of hope? A wistfulness that is might be something better, and that if I search long enough or hard enough, or I merely have enough faith, it will happen? No . . .  as I write this I believe that we are merely confronted with circumstances and those circumstances offer opportunities. Perhaps the more important question is what do we do with our opportunities and how do they affect us? I believe too many times we let our opportunities escape, either because we do not realize them or we are afraid to step up and use them. When people do step up and use them, we might accuse them of being selfish or unfair. I believe that people react or respond the way they do because of their own experiences. As I have been working on an article about the “rhetoric of place”, and if you have been following this blog, that is not a new focus, it is a reoccurring one for me, you know that I wonder about what give someone a sense of belonging. That is how I understand place.

When Jennifer, that is the niece of whom I wrote earlier in this post, was barely four years old, her father had already passed away. I was baby-sitting and a man came to their doorway. That salesman asked if her mom or dad was there at the time. She looked up with her amazingly beautiful brown eyes and said,” Mommy is shopping and Daddy died and he does not live here anymore.” The man was stunned. I came to the door and he stuttered apologies. I said, “it is okay; she is merely telling you about her reality.” She had accepted that her father was no longer in her life. A pretty astute acceptance for a four year old. Earlier today I told someone how I understood what it meant to be successful. I then followed it up with I have not been successful, but that I had accepted that. Acceptance is not fatalism. Acceptance is understanding the reality of our lives or in this case our existence. 

I wonder if we have been conditioned to believe that there is some warranty, some promise that if we just do the right things it will all work out and we will be successful. I guess what I find myself believing is that we can do the right thing; we can have the right job or the right relationships, but none of that means we are successful or that “we have made it”. My father used to say, “There are no free lunches.” I find myself once again being my father. It is not a case that the warranty is broken. I believe perhaps (again I am qualifying) that there is (or was) no warranty to begin with. I tell my students that their tens of thousands of dollars invested in an education does not educate them; it does not guarantee them a job upon graduation. There is no what ifs, in spite of what we are always thinking. There is only life . . .  there is only this. It is what we have. It is for that very reason it is valuable.

Perhaps it is our inability to even attempt to understand the difference between the conditional and the unconditional. Perhaps it is unwillingness to think beyond the surface. Too many are willing to go through their lives merely following what has happened or becoming the victim. While there are genuine victims, even then there is a choice (and certainly not an easy one to accomplish many times). We have the choice of continuing to be victimized or the choice to work to move beyond. Moving beyond is not allowing experience to make your decision for you. It is a difficult thing to work with or on, that is for certain. As noted, I could be the victim of this disease called Crohn’s and at times I have certainly felt like one, but that would make my life more difficult. It would make me more difficult (and we know that is not needed). I am all about moving forward. I am all about living with what I have been given. I am happy to go to school today and see what might happen. I am temporary, but I am okay with that. Knowing is most times better than not knowing. 

The picture is a sketching of a picture from the day at Stomp with Melissa and Jordan . . .  it is a nice memory. 

My pondering for the day. Thanks for reading.

Michael

 

Rhetorical Strategies

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Good Evening (actually almost morning),

I am in my study at home and have returned home after a most wonderful evening which was comprised of two parts: dinner at the Inn at Turkey Hill and attending a performance of Swan Lake, at the Mitrani Center for the Performing Arts. While the weather was certainly less than ideal and it made for a rather sloppy evening, and a fight with an umbrella, which might have allowed for the one moment of levity, the dinner, the performance and the company were all quite amazing. I have attended this particular ballet once before, but I was 25 years old and I was, perhaps, in Munchen; at least I think that’s where I was. At one point, I found some memory of being in Leipzig, but that would have been in what was East Germany (DDR) and that was about 5 years later. The point is I am a very different person than I was then traveling around Europe as a college student. Yet as an aside, and as I have mentioned on numerous occasions, it was probably that first trip to Europe with Dr. John Nielsen, that most influenced my life and helped me understand both learning and life in a much different way than I had up to that point. 

The difference in watching the ballet tonight was I was much more attentive to watching the actual performance of the dancers. It also reminded me of going to The Nutcracker when I was on the Lutheran Youth Encounter team, with John, Ruth, Susan, and Gloria. I was waiting for them so sing or speak or something. I was a pretty uncultured Midwest kid. I think the most cultural think I ever did was go to the circus. Very sad . . . As I told Melissa, I did not remember that the men wear very different ballet footwear (do guys refer to their ballet footwear as slippers, as I have heard the women’s footwear called?). I was also reminded of the strength of the feet, ankles, and the legs of those outstanding dancers. I was mesmerized at times by the synchronicity of the movements and their perfect timing and movements across the stage. The jester was particularly phenomenal, both in his movements, which were astounding to me, and his gracefulness even when he was moving quickly. I think he might have been one of the two or three most talented dancers on the stage this evening. 

Back to dinner for a moment: I do not go to the Inn very often (perhaps 5 or I guess this might have been the 6th time), but I have never had something there to eat that was not superb. I was going to order one of the specials tonight, but when it came time to order, I completely forgot what it was so I ordered off the menu. I went with something I had eaten before, so I had a good idea of what sort of culinary treat I was in for. I began the evening with a crab cake that was excellently prepared, just the right amount of crispiness and not oily at all. Melissa had the scallops, and we shared some of each. The scallops were also outstanding. She ordered chicken and I had a pork tenderloin with a peanut sauce. It had a little kick, but paired well with the Amador County Sangiovese. We both sort of particularly enjoyed the lemon sorbet palate cleanser. Sometimes it is the little things. We did push getting to the ballet on time, but all in all it was good. 

It is getting to the time of the semester when lots of things are due, and that is for people on both sides of the university equation. How we deal with all of that depends on both the number of things we might have to do, and the amount of time in which we have to do it. If it were only school, it might be easy (and even then I am not sure), but trying to have a life outside of the classroom, which is necessary for some kind of sanity is not always an easy thing to accomplish nor to manage. I witnessed some of that as well as felt it tonight. It is always a difficult thing when you want to do well at all of it. I know I have struggled with that and I continue to do so. Over the next two weeks I have to put together my tenure stuff. I think I am back to the days I had before break and the next couple of weeks will require both structure and patience. For the most part, I am a patient person. I have learned that sometimes it is just not a good thing to contribute to that stress level, whether it be intentionally or unintentionally. I am afraid tonight I contributed unintentionally, but, unfortunately, the consequence is the same. There is still stress. While there are usually a variety of contributing factors when someone is stressed out, each of those factors become a bigger and more difficult thing when one is feeling overwhelmed. I know that feeling. I think every step of the process in academe comes with that as a prerequisite. You merely need to plan that you are going to feel stressed, overwhelmed, a mirror image of John Belushi in Animal House saying, “Seven years of college down the drain; I guess I will join the ‘f-ing’ Peace Corps.” I think I have had such a moment at every taken or every level I have tried to move beyond. Somehow I made it, but more often that not, I am not sure how. 

What I was reminded of tonight is how much pressure school can be when you take it seriously, you care about it deeply, and you have already made things harder on yourself at some point in the process. I know that story well because I did it. I went from failing out of college to actually doing well enough to get a Ph.D.. Did I fail out because I was stupid? No, I was lazy. Did I get a Ph.D. because I was brilliant? Again, the answer is “no”. I worked hard and I had an amazing committee at both the Masters level and for my comprehensives and my dissertation. They pushed me hard, but they were also there for me. I am realizing again how fortunate I was to go to Michigan Tech, and to work with the people I did. I wish I could help students understand how amazingly talented and smart they are sometimes. I wish I could help them understand that the hard work they have been doing, along with their keen insight and significant intelligence will keep them in good stead. 

I was also reminded that once again that the world we live in is pretty conditional. I think that is one of the things I most detest about this world and what we have done, often to each other, as humans. We are judgmental; we are inconsistent; we are self-centered; and we are slow to forgive. What I have learned and continue to be reminded of is when you care about someone in a genuine way, it is not conditional. You do not care for them only when it is easy to do so. You care for them because they matter. You appreciate and honor their values and their preferences. You are willing to care as deeply regardless the circumstance. It is hard to do that, and I wish I was better at it than I am. Sometimes I am pretty self-absorbed. Sometimes because of my own fragility (there is that word again), I fail to give as much as I could or I am able. When that happens I believe I not only fail that friendship, I fail myself. I do not feel I was as supportive as I could have been at moments this evening. That saddens me because I do not like falling short. I am not sure I chose the best rhetorical strategy in trying to be supportive. It is one of those learning moments. 

I guess the positive in all of that it it got me thinking about the poem I have been pondering and trying to write. It might be the next thing I work on before I call it a night. Perhaps, the better strategy is to merely start jotting notes. I got to see a lot of new things tonight and the bottom line is pretty simple. I learned more (nothing really surprising, more confirming). I saw more (and I am continually amazed by just the pure beauty). I care more (and caring and being willing to love in all circumstances is what should happen). 

Hay muchos clichés sobre preocupación y cariño de otros, pero tales tópicos hacen poco cuando esto realmente importa. Si usted reclama para preocuparse realmente, si usted reclama para amar realmente el otro, usted se preocupa y los ama tanto durante sus días menores como usted hace sus mejores días. Es asombroso que esto me ha tomado este mucho tiempo en mi vida para venir a esta realización. Bien, no es exactamente verdadero; adivino que yo siempre lo sabía. Sin embargo, a pesar de aquel conocimiento y entendimiento, no estoy seguro que he estado capaz alguna vez de hacerlo … hasta ahora. Muchas Gracias for bringing me to this point. 

Thanks for reading.

Dr. Martin

If you have never had it, can you miss it?

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Good Morning from my office,

I got in early today and I have been trying to work my way through a list of things that seems to never reach the bottom. I guess that is a good thing because I have decided if the list is empty, either I am really bored, which I have noted the likelihood of that occurrence before, or I have expired, which I am hoping is still a bit of ways from my reality. Anyway, what I have found is writing my blog actually focuses me. It allows me to get all the things that, though important (at least to me, and perhaps a couple of others), do not really help me get my daily tasks completed in a timely or strong manner. In addition, and again the old adage of “practice what thou preaches” comes to mind, writing regularly is helping my writing. Again, at least I hope it is . . .  sometimes I go back and read this and I wonder if my brain was actually functioning. It has always been that way . . . . sometimes I read things and think: “my, did I write that?” More often my response is: “Oh my! Did I really write that (and now followed by “and I posted it!)?

The past week has been an interesting reality check. Because of some things with my family (extended), I have had to consider a lot of my family history. Families are such amorphous things at times. What actually relates us all? What makes us somehow reach out and decide to be identified with something or someone? It is certainly not merely a DNA thing. I know that from my own experience. It is not even growing up with them, or at least, it is does not seem that is a deciding factor. What makes some families “tightly-knit” and others more like a “large-hooked-crocheted-throw”, which has frayed or tattered edges (and I realize that analogy can take me other places, but not going there for the moment)? I am surely aware because of my own adoptive history that being in a new family in my case offered opportunities I probably would not have had in my birth family. Of course, what is interesting for me, and especially because I was adopted in 1960, was that I have always had some idea, involvement, or possibility of involvement with that birth family. My paternal grandmother was, and continues to be, my hero. I do have half-brothers and half-sisters, but I have made the decision to stay out of their lives. My biological mother is still alive, but there is no relationship there. Again, that is a choice I have made and I am responsible for any of those decisions. I am okay with that.

What has somehow come to the fore yet again, but in a very different way, is simply this: I had no children with Susan, the woman I married out of college, and while there was some attempt to have children, it did not happen. Theresa, my second wife, had three children, but by the time we were married, her youngest was sixteen. As a person with a post-partum tubal ligation, there were no additional children planned. There was a time in my late 30s and perhaps, even into my early 40s where I felt like I had missed the opportunity to have a family of my own. Somewhere around 45, perhaps when I returned to Michigan Technological University to finish by Ph.D., I realized that I was okay with the fact that I was childless, and single.  It just seemed like something that had occurred and so it just was. It was my reality. It was how my life played out. In fact, I have often stated, “While I have no children of my own, I have lots of everyone else’s.” I was okay with that because I could just send them home if I did not want to deal with them. I was (and I still am) in control of my situation. One of the things recently realized more clearly is that while I am around people (almost all of the time), I am usually in control of those situations. I manage them if you will. This past year, somehow I have felt my own, what I will refer to as, “reverse-empty-nest” syndrome. Instead of being lonely because they have all left, I believe I might feeling lonely because they were never there to begin with. This has sort of surprised me. It has also required me to contemplate why that might be. I am pretty sure I do not have clear answers or reasons for all of this, but I am pondering it. I have inquired about being a host for a foreign exchange student as a sort of temporary remedy, but I decided recently to wait for a year before doing this. I have some important things still up in the air regarding tenure and other work on my plate.

I have been given the most amazing gift of being able to work with some extraordinary people and I want to focus on those opportunities. What I realize is there is not often we are offered the change to specifically impact others. We do some of it everyday, but too often we are not aware of it. Before you accuse me of being narcissistic, hear me out. Indeed, we have people crossing our paths  daily and in a variety of situations and circumstances, but most times we are completely incognizant of what their needs or how we might help them actually is. Certainly, teaching first year writing offers interesting opportunities that many do not have in their own classes. I guess that is the efficacious nature of FYC. On the other hand, teaching Bible as Literature has been another class for me here at Bloomsburg where I have had the opportunity to offer some of my best work. Perhaps it is because students are really attempting to figure out how it all fits together. Because my upper level courses, which are experiential in nature, there too it seems I have the opportunity to really meet students where they are. All in all, it has served to take care of any desire I might have had to be a real parent (I am not sure that being creative in my understanding of parent will fly with some readers, but I understand.). Of course part of the reason I have been comfortable is simple, in spite of what many have told me over the years, I was a bit afraid to be a parent. I was afraid I would be a miserable failure.

Lately I have found myself rethinking this issue: what I am beginning to realize is that just perhaps, I might have been a good parent. What I am realizing is that being able to help students, colleague’s sons or daughters, nephews and nieces, or offspring of others still offers this opportunity to provide something that they might not otherwise have. In the case of some students, this is only possible if I have a chance to meet with their parents. I am reminded of Emily, a former student who is now an amazing professional. She was also an honors student and I worked as her mentor. Because of that, we did research at the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C.. When I think back to some of my former professors, at every level, there was one, in particular, who was a mentor, an advocate, a person who took a genuine interest in me and my development. I owe those persons an amazing debt of gratitude and I guess this is my way of giving back for what they gave me.

Lately, it sees that mentoring aspect of my life and that desire to be a parent has somehow reappeared and it makes me realize that I am missing something I have not really technically ever had. The title of parent is an amazing responsibility and something I will never really have, but I guess I am now aware that I missed out . . .  so now I will be a mentor, perhaps the uncle as some have called me, an uncle for real as I am to some amazing nephews and nieces and great-nephews and great-nieces, and even a surrogate parent to some others who have taught me as much about caring and loving as I have ever known. It is such an interesting journey and the return to earlier thoughts and questions always seems to catch me off guard.

Thanks for reading.

Dr. Martin

 

 

 

 

Winter needs to melt Away

Good evening from my office,

I am working on grading and my own writing, but realized I have not posted for a few days. I had get ideas of getting more done today and felt like most of the time I was hanging on by my rather short fingernails. I often find myself proclaiming, “they are no long, but they are strong.” That is what they feel like tonight. I am back in my office after working on a variety of things today. I began my morning at the car dealer to get my car inspected and take care of a couple of recalls. I also got my oil changed and tires rotated. The cost of all of that: $0.00. I was stunned, but one happy camper.

When I got back to school, there was a number of things to do. I met with a few students who need to work harder this last part of the semester. It was good to see them take some accountability for their situation and, at least, for the moment say they need to turn it around. Now, merely to do it. I am always excited when the light seems to go on. That is what needs to happen. Students, and really all of us, need to realize that most things that are accomplished come through hard work. They do not just happen. They do not merely fall into our laps. It would be nice, but my father did tell me rather emphatically, there are no free lunches. He had a way of getting to the heart of things. I still appreciate that trait of his.

This afternoon, I was trying to revise the program documents again and I will be with Mark yet again tomorrow to get them explained and examined once again. I have decided that having a number of writing people looking at your writing is like going to the dentist every day for about a month. This afternoon, I was working on my flash cards. I have a great tutor, who as a native speaker and will help me with my pronunciation. I really struggled with some of the vocab this afternoon. I hit that proverbial wall and it seemed I got more ridiculously unskilled by the second. It was a bit disconcerting. I do not have those moments often, but I certainly had a moment (or twenty) today.

A few weeks ago I made a decision to get rid of processed sugar, or certainly to severely curtail my intake of it. In addition, I have cut gluten out of my diet. The result is an 18 pound drop in weight in three weeks. Almost a pound a day and that is without exercise. I do know that I will probably hit a bit of a plateau soon, so I have to add the exercise component again. That is not a bad thing. There is also another issue on the horizon in May, which I just remembered. I am having a gum surgery done called LANAP. It is a laser surgery for my gums versus a cutting and suturing surgery. All of this is actually a consequence of my Crohn’s, and so managing this will have a number of positive consequences. It does mean there is a two week period in May when I will be on liquids and soft food. I imagine that will have some consequences too.

Tomorrow, I need to be focused again and make my list. I am looking forward to the weekend as I am going to Swan Lake on Saturday. I will have attended to amazing performances in two weeks. That is exciting also. I was reminded again in a conversation today about how our circumstances and our environment has such significance for what we hold important. It is hard to believe that it is soon another year anniversary of my sister’s passing. I remember the difference between elements of my family from time to time and her funeral was one of those times. It was a rather strange and sad situation. I am reminded that my own upbringing was a rather interesting dichotomous pairings of cultural awareness and total lack thereof, or at the very least a rather apparent of appreciation for some of those things. It is an issue of culture and understanding the culture in which and from which one came. I do not think we consider those issues nearly enough, but then again, we claim we are inclusive. There is so much we could do more completely when it comes to culture(s). That is only one of the reasons I am working on Spanish. What I am finding as I work on it is I am forced to again consider my own language or cultural choices.

Culture is such a profound part of our identity, and too often we do not really take the time to understand it. If I am correct, then, by extension does it mean we do not really do enough to know ourselves? I would like to say this takes things a bit too far, but I am afraid the consequence is exactly what can be implied here. First we cannot even know ourselves in this situation, let alone know others. I could push the conversation or paragraph and say that social networking and our willingness to merely dash things off versus take the time to really think and ponder exacerbates the circumstances even more. I find learning about another culture to be terrifically interesting and invigorating. It changes one’s life because it forces him or her to think outside of themselves. That is always a good thing. To do this means you have to quit looking inward to search outside of yourself. I do not believe we can seriously enter into this process and not be fundamentally changed. While I appreciate my culture and this country, for instance, the world is so much more complex and diverse. That is what makes it interesting.

There is so much more I could say, but I think I will sign off for the moment and study my vocabulary cards one more time before calling it a night.

Gracias,

Miguelito

A Day in NYC

IMG_1793Good evening from I-80,

First, lest you think I have decided to try my skills at driving and blogging simultaneously, I am actually in the passenger seat and Mr. Galán is driving my car headed back from spending the day in New York City. For the first time since about a week for Christmas Break ended, I actually took an entire day off. It was a beautiful day to do this because it was actually almost 60 and the sun was shining.

The morning began a bit dreary and it was actually spitting snow yet again in the hills of NEPA. When we got to NYC we began our day at a restaurant called El Malecon, a Dominican restaurant. The food was amazing and I had a dish called Mofongo de Filete de Mero, which was fried plantains in a sort of formed mound on the plate and an wonderful piece of Grouper. Grouper happens to be my favorite fish ever. For something to drink, I had a beverage called Morir Soñando, which literally means ” to die dreaming”. This might be apropos because it was one of the most pleasant things I have ever tasted. It is orange juice, milk, and vanilla. I brought some of my food home because it was so filling (and it was reasonably priced). It was also helpful to have three native speakers with me. I have learned that I might have to the “the beverage maven” make this amazing beverage as a pitcher of that in the refrigerator on a regular basis would be a nice thing.

Following our lunch, I had the opportunity to meet some of the Galán extended family. An aunt or great- aunt recently needed some serious surgery for a severely broken leg. I have never witnessed such a strong person. She was so matter-of-fact about her situation. I am thinking of a sign I have observed from time to time: “no whining allowed”. I believe this woman’s name was Carmen, and, well, she epitomizes this sign. I was reminded walking up the steps to their apartment about the difference in city living and being out in Bloomsburg. I am not sure what rent costs, but I am sure it is not cheap. I had to have things translated for me and I learned, or, more appropriately, was reminded that Jordan can be trouble. He managed to pretend that something was said was very different that what was actually said. The planning continues for divine retribution (or, at least, another form thereof).

Then it was off to see Stomp with Melissa and Jordan. The drive from 136th and Amsterdam to the Orpheum was an exercise in city driving. I was told I adapted well when I went cruising around and through openings between cars, buses, and people. No scratches or dents. After knowing I was going to see Stomp, I looked up some videos on YouTube. If you have watched them, all I can say is they do not begin to do the performance justice. It was over and hour and a half of unbelievable energy. The drumming or percussion, along with the dancing, tapping, stomping, and other choreography was stunning. There was amazing humor and the person, who played the part of the outcast was hilariously amusing. The main dancer, performer, must have the most well-defined man I have ever seen. Holy Buckets!! And the number of hours they must put into practice and rehearsal is extreme. The entire performance was worth every penny and it was very enjoyable to watch Melissa and Jordan.

Next we took a scenic trek from Manhattan to Queens to find a Cold Stone Creamery for a treat. I also received a gift from the NYPD in terms of a parking ticket. I had the little receipt on the dash board, but it was upside down; I am hoping sending in both with their time stamps remove a 35.00 fine. We will see. At one point early in the day as Mr. Galán and I were walking, Jordan and Melissa were in front of us walking arm-in-arm. I did not have my camera out, but it was have been a good picture. I have noted with before: Nunca he visto a dos hermanos se preocupan por los demás como lo hacen. Ellos ponen irritable con los demás (y Melissa suele ganar), pero se preocupan tan profundamente sobre y para el uno al otro como dos jamás podría. Ellos me inspiran.

Then it was back to pick up Mr. Galán and head back to Pennsylvania. Interestingly, perhaps the only thing cheaper in NYC is gasoline. The other nice thing was I did not have to drive home, so hence this posting. When we got back to their house we had a chance to sit and chat. What an enjoyable and meaningful time. It was a wonderful day with great food, great performances, meeting new people, and being blessed by the presence of three of the most astounding people. They make my life better every day.

Well, break is over, but I took one day to actually “take a break”. It was a memorable day. Muchas Gracias Señor Galán, Jordan, and Melissa; su presencia en mi vida es un regalo. I only hope it’s real.

Thanks for reading,

Dr. Martin

Progressing

Good morning from my office,

I am back in the quiet confines of Bakeless, where I am able to just work because we are on break and there is no one to disturb my progress. The quietness reminds me of the very first morning I walked into the church where I had just be called to be a pastor. It was my first Sunday to preach and I got to the church at 5:00 a.m. . In spite of the early hour, I was wide awake because I was nervous to deliver or preach my first sermon in my first call. So, with only the exit sign light, I put the key into my office door, and got ready to open it. At that precise moment, a hand reached out an touched my shoulder and a voice said, “Good Morning, Pastor”. I also died at that very moment. I jumped and spun around to look into the eyes of a kind and smiling, but elderly, gentleman. He was dressed a bit shabbily and had a couple-day stubble covering his weathered face, but he extended his hand and said, excitedly, “I’m Arthur!”. I managed to get my breath back somehow and shook his hand and said, “Good Morning, Arthur; how nice to meet you.” To this day, that might be the closest I have ever come to wetting myself. What I found out was Arthur often slept in the church at night because he was a bit of transient.

Fortunately for me at Bakeless, after a certain hour and before another certain hour, the doors are locked and you have to either have card access and then a key to get into the complex where my office is located. That is probably good because at this point, I would probably have a coronary. A couple of Wednesdays ago, I was rather tired and working in my office early evening and I inadvertently dozed off in my chair in my office. Someone came into the office and I was certainly sleeping. When they spoke it awakened me and I was a bit startled, and embarrassed I might add, that I have been discovered in such a state. I jumped almost as much as I did with Arthur that morning. The difference between then and now is there are cameras everywhere to catch such moments. Fortunately, that did not happen. Thank God, for small (or large) favors.

I have two of my three classes completely caught up and managed, I took a break from some of that yesterday and worked on my article for Programmatic Perspectives. I made good headway, which pleases me. I am working on that again this morning and want to do that until about 3:30 or so. If I can put in a good 5 or 6 hours writing, I think I should made some progress. The second thing on the agenda today is to make the revisions needed to the minor and certificate proposals so they can go back to the Curriculum Committee immediately after break. I have one other course proposal to go forward. Then it will be working through the process to hopefully have the major discussed and buy-in accomplished. The buy-in is there, but I am not sure most are aware of what they are buying, so to speak, and that creates the possibility for backlash. I do not want any such thing to occur. The third task today is to focus on the work done in the Writing for Multiple Media class. I want to be completely prepared for the remainder of the semester by next Monday night’s class.

Yesterday, I spoke with a former student (actually we Skyped each other) from Spain. Her name is Elena and I had her as a student in a HU102 class in the fall of 1997, the same semester I had emergency surgery. This was the first time I have seen her “in-person”, albeit on Skype since the Spring of 1998 before she left Houghton. What is really interesting is I have a picture of the sunset on Lake Superior, which she gave to me, still setting in my kitchen. I send her a photo of that in Facebook once and she sent me a picture of the same picture in her apartment in Spain. What an interesting connection. We had the most wonderful conversation and she speaks English fluently now. She has a bit of a Scottish accent to her English, which is there because she has been conversing with someone from Scotland. Interesting to hear such an accent from someone who is a native Spaniard. What was most exciting is we have set up a weekly time to Skype with each other.

What I have learned about myself, something new again, is that I want to learn about other cultures and other peoples. I want to know as much as I can about their languages and their cultures. If I made a list of the languages, places, or things I want to learn, I am afraid it might be a bit ridiculous. There are two in particular as far as languages: the one, as already noted is Spanish, but the other is Russian or Ukrainian (though I am not sure I want to visit there at the present moment.). I am going to work on my editing again. Somehow the last think I wrote in this post disappeared. Yesterday seemed to be a day in which I caught up with former students or acquaintances. It was a good day and I have the opportunity to speak with my graduate colleague and former work colleague; I spoke with another teacher and person I consider a friend and sort of colleague. I heard from a former student by FB messenger and she is struggling, but has at least reached out. I am afraid that the dire predicament she is in will not change unless she makes some significant changes.

Later last night I had the opportunity to speak with (text with) yet another person who has somehow seemed to figure me out better than I have myself. This is a bit disconcerting, but I deem it as a gift. It has required that I do yet again more introspective work. Not in a navel-gazing way, but rather in a way that forces me to consider my strengths and weaknesses and to embrace them both. I do certainly know them, but I am not always sure what to do with them. That being said, it is time to get back to work. I leave you with the following video because I think it offers hope.

This Gives me Hope

Thanks for reading as always,

Dr. Martin

Break-ing and Work-ing

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Hello from my study at the Acre,

It was a nice and productive day. Quiet when no one was in the entire office this morning or most of the day. It was wonderful and a great way to get a lot done. I am organized and I think I have sufficient resources both at home and at school, so I can work on some things in both places. I have a few grading items to finish up tonight, but nothing too strenuous. If I accomplish all I have set out to do, it might set a record for break-productiveness. I have considered returning to what I refer to as “dissertation-mode”. That was an incredible 11 days, but I am a little older and I have not been working on some of this as long. I do think I can get one article drafted and completed. I have the second mapped out and if I could get that at least started in a substantive way, I would be very happy. I met with a colleague on a third article today. This is another thing that has been on the back-burner (maybe not on the stove) over the last year or two. That along with my tenure stuff are on the plate for the week. I think the weekends are going to be a bit stressful for the remainder of the semester. Maybe, more accurately, the remainder of the semester will be a bit like an incredibly difficult hegira . . .  maybe the originator can provide some assistance (even if I am not of the right faith). 

That brings me to the actual topic that has been on my mind today . . .  while I am busy working, even during break, I am realizing that while I might seem to whine about the amount of work, I actually enjoy all the things I have to do (at least-generally). I cannot imagine just sitting at home on my porch in a rocking chair. I would like to maybe work less at some point, but I think being on campus and among thinking people keeps me feeling invigorated. It makes me feel like getting up in the morning has a purpose. I am quite sure I was not always a hard worker because both my older brother and my father were quite exasperated with me at one point in my life. There have been a couple of those times. The first was in my teen years and, while I think I worked reasonably hard at my grandmother’s bakery, outside of that I was pretty much a “lazy-shit”. Yes, I said that and I admit that. The second time I was such a loafer was after the service and before I went on my year travels with a Lutheran Youth Encounter team. This was the middle of the disco era and Saturday Night Fever was the rage. My life was pretty much a rage, or at least outrageous. The fact that I did not die during that couple year period is only by the grace of God. I think there was probably a third period too. While I worked, and worked a lot, my life was a mess. It was after I left a position at Suomi College. I had lost a job, lost a marriage and was back to serving and bartending. That life style is notorious for providing an opportunity to eat and drink too much and to burn the proverbial candle at both ends. While I have always probably did the candle burning, I fell back into that pattern of late nights and hung-ver mornings, which was the same pattern when I had served and worked as a bartender earlier. Fortunately, again, God is gracious and has, regardless my stupidity at times throughout my life, kept me upright and breathing. 

What I am aware of is no matter how much we make things difficult for God, the creator is constant and works in spite of us (I did not say “to spite” us). Early this evening I had the opportunity to speak with my cousin (2nd cousin actually). She is one of the persons who has always accepted me and loved me, never judging me on my foolishness. She has been part of my life in a substantial way since I was 22. That is three and a half decades ago. She might be the one person I can count on no matter what, at least over such a long period. She knows me as well as anyone. She knows things that probably only two or three people have ever heard me tell. I remember when I was told I needed treatments and she called me. I was in a coffee shop in Houghton (I know . . .  shock that I was in a coffee shop). I remember speaking with her on the phone and we both cried. I think she has probably heard or seen me cry more than anyone in my entire life. She has worked so hard to get where she is going and I am so proud of her. She has done it with self-sacrifice and determination. She has continued to hold a full-time job the entire time. She shared her work with me now and was surprised that people have stepped up in such a comprehensive manner to assist her. I am not surprised. It is always a treat to speak with her and we laugh and appreciate each other so much. Thanks!!

I was looking at things I have written and I guess I am surprised that I am almost daily getting new followers, but I am humbled and gratified. I hope the craziness that seems to roll around between my ears somehow resonates with others. I am not really that amazing, but I do believe I am genuine. I am fragile as I have noted; I am driven (most of the time); I care deeply for those who matter to me; and I make more mistakes than I wish I ever had to admit. What does all of that say . . . I am merely a person trying to understand where this is all going. I am always interested in what is going on around me. As I have noted to others, I am always shocked when someone claims to be bored. I instantly wonder: where the hell do you live?? I do not think I have ever been bored, at least not for any extended period. Perhaps an hour or two, but come to think of it, I am not even sure when that happened the last time. 

Well, what I do know is that it will not be a boring week because even though I am “break-ing”, I am also work-ing. It is a diligence thing. For now it is a way to get my act together. There is so much to write, so much to say, so much to ponder . . .  so much for being bored. I guess it is time for another cup of coffee.

Thanks for reading,

Dr. Martin (aka: just human)