Tuesday, August 31, 2004

crap . . . crap, crap, crap

I did NOT mean to reformat this blog. Crap. I thought I got out of it in time. And then, what the crap? The formatting has changed and I lost all of links to the blogs I recommend. Crap. Will's going to switch me to Typepad soon. After that, I'll get all the links up. Crap.


just goes to show

God's just plain busy in all sorts of places doing all sorts of things. Read about Ma$e's comeback here.

nightstand news

Just finished back-to-back two books by Douglas Coupland (author of Generation X). Life After God, and All Families Are Psychotic. Loved them both. For those of you wishing to delve into post-modern fiction, try these. His imagery is unbelievably fresh, fresher than, oh, say, Will Smith during his Bel Air days.

Sad, yes, I know. And thanks to Don for the books. You, my good man, rock. Like Alcatraz. Or, say, Stone Mountain, Georgia. Or, hmm, the baby on the tree top.



appetite suppressants

Okay, so I just came across a new way to stanch the flow of your appetite when you're trying to lose weight. Surf the internet. Because you may come up with an article about food like this one. Don't know why, but this makes my stomach run for the hills. Raw pot pie? Oop, here comes my friend Ralph.

Lunch? No thanks.


home again, home again

Back from England. I was asleep by 9 pm last night. Of course, it felt like 2 am to my body.

Up at 4:45 am. No surprise there.

The Greenbelt Arts Festival threw me into a whole new state of being. I'm so used to Christian gatherings where we emblazon our Christian lingo onto each sentence we speak and show off our faith. It's different over there. Faith is just, well, a part of you and you can go and listen to speakers and music, wander around the pavillions and absorb new expressions of what God is doing without feeling the need to advertise what you've learned.

We began our trek on British soil at the home of Debbie and Andrew Jones. More about them in a separate post because they were the biggest God-talk of the trip for me. On Friday we made our way out to Cheltenham for the festival. If any one mental image survives this trip it will be sitting in Andrew's van as he sped down the narrow streets of London with a trailer (caravan in England) hitched to the back. Now that's moxy! I honestly felt like I was on Cartoon Network or something.

Friday afternoon I sat with Will at a roundtable discussion on the Emerging church. When I walked into the room I thought, "Oh sheesh, look. It's a buncha men." I was the only woman in the room and I was only there because I was a wife. I'm thankful to say that three more women came in because honestly, I would have gone out of there thinking, it's just another patriarchal movement where they say they value women but the numbers prove otherwise. Still a little male-heavy, but honestly, how many women really are ministering at that kind of level? Maybe the Emerging church movement will help change all that. And they actually asked me to say a little something which was very gracious. Honestly? People don't usually want to hear from novelists. We just tell stories forgoshsakes.

Gracious people all around. Good tea. Cool people watching. And a really big message from God during the large mass on Sunday. Shared communion with thousands of believers from across the world. Truly, truly amazing.

Just an overview of the time spent. Not done yet. Still need to digest it all.

grace and glad to be home. hope you all are doing fine!


Wednesday, August 25, 2004

report from the diet front

Weighed in today. Another 2.6 lbs. Weight Watchers unveiled a new diet this week and boy does it sound good. I love those meetings, I hate to admit.

It's kind-of like church.




I haven't even been thinking about God with this whole Greenbelt thing. Good grief. If you're going to wing a prayer, pray I meet Him in a new, special way. That I'll see a different aspect of Him and His people. I'm so carnal.



Leavin' on a Jet Plane

We're heading off to Greenbelt Arts Festival today. And I am nervous.

First of all, we're camping. I've never camped before and I don't sleep well to begin with. I expect to disembark back here in America looking like something from Night of the Living Dead.

Second of all, it's Will's world I'm entering. When he was in politics and I'd attend fund-raisers with him, I was the woman standing by the steamed shrimp all evening. Meeting new people in someone else's sphere is extremely difficult for me. I'm able to camoflage it, but it's still a challenge. When I was younger, I didn't really care too much about being rude, so off I'd go with a book to the lobby to wait out the evening. Now, I do care about my manners.

So if you can wing a little prayer my way, I'd appreciate it.

The great side of it, however, is music, music, music! And this is where Will and I will show our differences. (Not that he doesn't love music. He's more well-rounded and enthused than I am when it comes down to it.) He'll be going to places where people will talk about Emerging, he will attending seminars and yakkfests, and will come back with lots of cool things to think about and write about. I'll go to concerts and art exhibits and come home refreshed, and honestly, with lots of cool things to thing about and write about as well.

If they have computers set up there, I'll blog. If not, grace, my friends, and I'll see you next week!


Monday, August 23, 2004

Oh, yeah. I forgot.

Last night we went to see The Manchurian Candidate with our best friends. All I can say is, what a movie! So worth the Fandango bucks. The story is intriguing, not too difficult to follow and never insults your intelligence. I came out of the movie saying, "I've gotten so used to the usual Hollywood fare, I'd forgotten what a really great film looked like." Absolutely fantastic. And refreshing to sit through something so well written, so well done.

And of course, Denzel. He's a fine, fine man! And a great actor too.



Friday, August 20, 2004

The Passion - 6 Months Later

Yesterday I was going through a stack of papery junk in my bedroom and came upon a copy of People from the spring. Mel Gibson's Passion was the headline. (Okay, I admit it. I'm a Hollywood Junkie. I hate Hollywood, but it really fascinates me. Does that make me shallow? Probably, but there you have it.)

I opened it up and looked at the pictures. The day before, while driving down Tollgate Road, I had recalled the scourging scene and my stomach began to do flip-flops. The memory of the actual crucifixion doesn't traumatize me. The scourging does. Something happened to me while watching the flaying, and the way it lasted, seeming to never end. Whenever I think of it, I still want to stand up and scream, "Stop it! Just stop it! Can't you see He's had enough? How much longer can this go on! Stop it, stop it, stop it!" And the nausea comes.

When I remember the scourging scene something happens to me. I get much the same feeling as the memory of my miscarriage, hemorrhaging horribly in a public restroom, blood, lightheadedness, blood, toilet water, blood and fear, blood and wondering if the baby was in the toilet and, "Dear God, I hope I don't ever have to go through that again." It's a dark sick moist feeling, a dread, a helpless raising of inner hands against an onslaught.

For that reason, I do believe I'll never watch The Passion again. I'm glad I saw it for it changed my view of my own redemption, raised the preciousness of His sacrifice, and humbled me beyond belief. It made me want to love as He loves.

On that drive down Tollgate Road, I implored Jesus to tell me it wasn't as bad as that. That a big chunk of skin wasn't ripped away exposing His ribs. And if someone who knows history can tell me the scene was excessive and therefore inaccurate, I would stand relieved. However, does that matter really? The fact is, He would have gone through it no matter how bad it was. And that is exactly the point.

grace on you this day,


reporting in from the weight loss front

Well, did the Weight Watchers meeting yesterday. 2.4 pounds. Oh, yeah! Not much, but I had Chinese Food the night before which, they tell me, really packs on the water. Who knows. I am glad to just have lost anything at all. And at this rate, I'll reach my goal in 10 weeks.

I really need to start, as my brother says, "shaking my blubber." But that's way too depressing right now! As I always say this time of year, "Wait 'til it gets a little cooler!"

The teacher at WW is a grandmother who's just a downright sexy woman. I wasn't that sexy at 22. This woman is "all that and a bag of chips." If that doesn't motivate you, I don't know what does! And to any man reading this, yes, it's true, most women lose weight for other women or health reasons. I think that says something good about men in general.



Wednesday, August 18, 2004

they're smarter than we think, ladies

Tyler read in her psychology book recently that, although this is instinctual and they are unaware of it themselves, men, when thinking about marriage, look for a woman with curves. Something inside them whispers, "That lady there can bear you children."

So to the curved, I say, nature's on our side! To the skinny people that work out 6 days a week and have 5% body fat or less, I say, nature is NOT on your side or you wouldn't be in the gym so much. Ease up a little and know that the word curvaceous is a delectable word for a reason! I swear, Titian was an absolute genius concerning his taste in women as well as his ability to handle paint.

And no, I have not fallen off my diet. But I've yet to get my feet in sneakers and get a move-on. Whew, I don't know about you, but this sure cheered me up!



Monday, August 16, 2004

the purity of kindness

Today I had a thought while riding with Tim, my pastor and brother-in-law, to pick out a new keyboard for the worship team. We talked about how easy it is for a lot of Christians to feel safe and somehow further along the path than "the godless heathen". We don't murder people, take drugs, spend everynight tying one on. We don't have multiple sex partners (on the whole) or engage in prostitution. We promote personal purity.

It's easy, though, to rip a brother or sister in Christ's head off, whether in public or private. To harbor a grudge, in some cases--if honesty were being served and we were truthful about our thoughts and actions--to hate someone. To say things that aren't exactly uplifting or kind. (God forbid, however, we say "hell" or "damn". And the F-word? By their fruits you'll know them and the F-word isn't a fruit a saved person would bear!) In other words, we can be mean, backbiting, nasty people. But if we keep our pants zipped, our heads clear and our mouths clean, we're pure.

But I wonder if that's all there is to purity? Doesn't purity, while including self-control, also include things like: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and gentleness? Is there an inner purity that we've overlooked because we've categorized the sins Christians have the most trouble with as "clean sins?" And why don't these matter too? Why does James Dobson say that Gay Marriage is the greatest assault on the American family, (a "purity" issue), when we know that divorce is, (and the Church's rate is no better than the general population's) and that many times divorce doesn't start with a sin of the appetite, but the sin of impatience, rudeness, lack of love, anger or unfaithfulness in the everyday commitment to being married?

Maybe purity, in the sight of God, is just as much about the inside as it is about the outside. Maybe more. Just a thought.




Some Sundays are holier days than others. Yesterday slid into that category with ease. The baptism service on the banks of Deer Creek stirred something deep in my soul. Will took pictures of Jake and Gwynnie coming up out of the water. The water chilled their limbs but they trudged right on in. My brother-in-law Tim talked about how precious baptizing anyone is, but when it's your niece and nephew it makes it an extra special time. I grew up Presbyterian, so believer's baptism held little importance, but as I stood there on the creek, I could easily picture John the Baptizer holding a hand out to Jesus as he stepped forth into the water. There was something ancient about what we did yesterday, something very wide - like the Amazon River or the rings of Saturn. Something ritual, something connected.

grace for your week,


Sunday, August 15, 2004

who i'd like to be

Proverbs 31:25 - She is strong and graceful, as well as cheerful about the future. CEV

I came across this verse this morning. I get E-Word sent to me each day. To be honest, I rarely read it. But I did just a few minutes ago because, heck, it was an easy Bible read for what promises to be a crazy busy Sunday. (No, I don't spend three hours in prayer and devotion preparing my heart for church. Sorry.)

Normally, I read this passage, throw up my hands and think, "Why bother?" I don't sew, I don't buy fields and sell them, my husband doesn't sit around the marketplace and talk about how great I am. This is silly to think I could ever be this way. I'm just proud of myself when I go to bed at night and there are no dishes in the sink. Which is just about never.

But verse 25 twanged a possibility inside of me. Maybe it's doesn't have to mean graceful like a ballet dancer in my case, but full of grace, and "strength cometh from the Lord" (there, you had your dose of KJV for the day), and the future is in God's hands so why fret in such a way as to bind your hands, why not be cheerful? Hopefully I can become someone like that, hopefully it's before I'm too old to do anything with it!

Today Gwynnie and Jake are getting baptized today. There's promise sitting with the sun just below this morning's horizon and while I may not yet be very strong or graceful, I'm as thankful as a mother can be. All of my children know Jesus. And that's truly the most cheerful thought a mother can have.



Friday, August 13, 2004


During our phases when we have cable TV, I'm a FoodTV junkie. Of course, I love Sara Moulton, and Jamie Oliver is just a doll-baby. And the others. Emeril is fine, but I find I have to take him in small doses the older he gets.

But the Grande Dame of Food Television died today at 91. In her sleep. I do wonder what Julia Child's last meal consisted of. I'd be surprised if it didn't include real butter and was accompanied by a great wine. She pioneered gourmet cooking for real people and I loved her for that. I especially loved her sessions with Jacques Pepin and her childlike delight when she learned a new process. If it really was new to her. Somehow I doubt it was. But she loved what she did and the people she did it with and knew what it was like to feel delight and display graciousness.

This past spring, Tyler, Jake and I had the awesome privilege of viewing the new display of Julia's actual kitchen at the Smithsonian. Okay, Tyler and I enjoyed it. Jake wanted to know when we were going to get to see the dinosaur stuff. I thought of all the fancy-schmancy kitchens today they dub "gourmet kitchens" and wanted to laugh. Old aluminum cabinets and walls covered in pegboard suited Julia Child. Now that's a gourmet kitchen.

With Julia gone, I guess Weight Watchers makes sense now. I'd always look at her and say, "She sure isn't worried about a few extra pounds, and who can blame her? She's a fabulous woman!" As a friend of mind would say, "That woman is Divalicious!"

I know I'll miss her.




My nephew-in-law, Bill, took pictures of me yesterday for the new website my husband Will is building. The name William is big in both our families. My Dad was Bill, my brother is Billy. And that is why Jake is named Jake. But that's not what this blog is about.

So, Bill snapped the pictures on a digital camera, hooked the darn thing up to the 25 inch T-freaking-V! And there I was, all these age lines, looking, dare I say it (?), like a Clownie!!! There were a few usable shots, which attests to Bill's skill as a photographer, and after he touched up the obsidian laugh-lines, I'm not embarrassed.

But I'm looking older now.

I'm also looking chubby which is why I'm heading off to Weight Watchers this morning. I've never done anything like this before. Of course, when I was young, I could get on the diet pills for a couple of weeks and blammo, 125 on the scale once more. I tried diet pills a few months ago and let's just put it this way, me and Joan Crawford had way too much in common. I'd rather be fat than explosive any day.

But maybe WW will do the trick. I'll say it right here because I'm trying to hold myself accountable to as many people as possible. I need to lose 22 pounds to get back to my fighting weight. You do the math.

Old, wrinkled, and reporting in from the world of those whose breasts don't say howdy and need a thigh transplant . . . over and out.



Thursday, August 12, 2004

the joy of cozy reading

"Creativity comes from trust. Trust your instincts. "

Rita Mae Brown (Warning! Really ugly website alert!!!)

But I think she's spot-on with the quote! And she writes cozy mysteries, which is quickly becoming my new favorite genre for just sitting down and enjoying the read. I have Ron and Janet Benrey to thank for this. Their Pippa Hunnechurch mysteries were just delightful, and I'm presently reading the ms. for the first in the new series surrounding a Tea Museum in Tunbridge Wells England and enjoying it just as much as Pippa. I love these cozies!

Another author you might enjoy is a "wuhndaful" Englishwoman, Veronica Healy. Oh, these books are just precious and the woman can really turn a phrase as well. They're hard to find, unfortunately, but if you come across one, grab it! She'll soon be published with Zondervan so she'll be easier to find.

And then, there's always Patricia Sprinkle who does a bang-up job in her mysteries. It's amazing how, seven years after reading two of her books, I can still see the main characters in my head. Talk about vivid. I need to pick up some more. I just got that Amazon link and I'm WAY behind.

Like that's a shock.



a new idea

Woke up at 4 a.m. the morning before yesterday with the best idea of my writing career. Don't you love it when that happens? I mean, you feel like God might have nudged your shoulder and whispered it as you came to consciousness. So much so, you hesitate to even take credit for it. But I'm excited. And after the sabbatical, I'll be ready to hit the ground running.

Here's hoping your day is filled with new, great ideas and that God whispers in your ear.



Wednesday, August 11, 2004

when stuff like this happens

The evil side of me gloats. Rich, famous people getting their comuppance is one of my favorite things, much like brown paper packages tied up with string!

Tuesday, August 10, 2004

plain truth, tyler style

From Tyler's health assignment today. Her answers are in italics.

1. What are some of the drugs you have heard your peers talking about? Pot, speed, cocaine…

2. How dangerous do you think these drugs are? They are very dangerous. Some of them can kill you.

3. Without stating any names, do you know anyone who has had a bad experience or overdose from drugs? Yes.

4. If you were at a party or club, and someone put drugs in your drink, how would you know? What if you couldn’t see it or taste it? You shouldn’t be hanging out in a crappy place like that.

5. Have you ever heard of "date rape drugs"? Yes.

6. If someone offers you a pill, is there any way to tell what’s in it? No. Don’t be an idiot. You shouldn’t take it.

7. Is there any way to know if it’s safe? No.

Sometimes it's refreshing to see the niceties removed, isn't it? Fourteen-year-olds are pretty darn good at that.



standin' in the need of prayer

This article from the Chicago Tribune really highlights for me how blessed I am to take for granted getting up on Sunday and driving to church without fear of getting bombed. Please take a little time to read it, it not only reports on the bombings, but on the history of Christians in general in Iraq. Very interesting. We definitely need to be in prayer for our Iraqi brothers and sisters. They are very much a part of the body of Christ, right alongside you and me.



Sunday, August 08, 2004

sabbatical report

I've actually read some books that have done me good and God is slowly but surely settling my soul into a resting period. I find myself connecting with Him, in my head -- you know how that goes -- at all sorts of odd times and places. I find myself a lot more willing to trust Him now that I can't put my hands on the steering wheel. You know, He's doing a fine job. Well, He's always done a fine job, I've just always been sitting in the passenger seat under the delusion I'm actually driving the car.

So far, I've come to the point of realization that I pretty much don't know squat when it comes to most things and while I'm not really fine with that completely, I have to think that might just be what's on the agenda. To be fine with my limitations. Positively, though, He's busy, moving around, doing the divine waltz. I'm learning to recognize the dance and am really excited about jumping right out onto the floor and being swept away. But first, I think I'm being called to observe His moves, bob in rhythm a bit, feel the music and wait until He comes up and signs my dance card.

Still the punch is pretty good here by the wall and I've been eyeing those macadamia nut, chocolate chip cookies on the refreshments table.



on the turntable

The turntable? Oh, would those days were here. I'd be twenty again.

Wait. If I had to relive the last twenty years not knowing what I know now . . . hmm, pass the CD player.

You know, I'm just not very cool when it comes to music. Will is into jazz which is cool and smart. Right now my CD player in the car holds:

Third Day - some worship album which I love but don't ask me to remember the name. I don't do stuff like that.
James Taylor's greatest hits.
Seed of Faith kids CD
Black Eyed Peas -- Will put that in because he's cooler than I am. I do like it, though, when I'm not in a mellow mood.
Relient K - Tyler's CD, which is hilarious, especially Pink Tux.
Good Charlotte - my favorite CD of the bunch. Love those Marylanders!
And I can't remember the other four.

Okay, Tyler just walked up, three of the others are DC Talk Supernatural and Intermission, Caedmon's Call - 40 Acres.

Got to get some Billy Joel back in play. Heard Rosalinda's Eyes yesterday and became immersed in nostalgia. "I can always find my Cuban skies, in Rosalinda's Eyes."

I love music that takes me back. Call me a sentimental fool. What takes you back?



Saturday, August 07, 2004

Boxer Man

While hanging out at the cigar shop this afternoon I had the chance to chat with an almost 75-year-old man, wheelchair bound for 51 years, who used to be a boxer.

"Did you ever get your nose broken?" I asked.

"Just once. I came out the ring and my trainer says, 'Your nose is broken.' I asked, 'Really?' He said, 'Yeah, looks like you're turning a corner.'"

Boxer man winked then, said, "Good thing I didn't sneeze. I mighta blew my ear off!"

He's not mad or angry about life in a wheelchair. In fact, he's crazy and nice and talkative. "I find it's better not to go through life miserable."

And if anybody could, it would be Boxer Man.

Makes you more than a little thankful, doesn't it?



aww, man

Rick James died yesterday. This is not super freaky at all. A one-of-a-kind human being is gone and that always make me sad.



Friday, August 06, 2004

three years ago

Today marks the three year anniversary of my mom's passing. Sometimes it seems like three days. But I feel a little blue when I think about the milestones that will occur in my children's lives without my mom and dad there to do the grandparent gloat. And there are still days where I just want my mother.

My mom loved me. I never doubted this for one second. And isn't that a legacy we all want to leave with our children? They'll remember our craziness, our mistakes, our selfishness and our pride. But hopefully, like me, they'll remember the times we laughed together, watched favorite shows, ate Christmas dinners and shopped for special clothes like saddle shoes for cheerleading or long dresses for formals. Hopefully they'll never wonder that they held first place in our hearts.

One thing my kids won't remember doing with me that I remember doing with mom is picketing abortion clinics in the early days of the pro-life movement, chapped hands clinging to the rough wood supporting the placard, getting yelled at and given the finger by motorists driving by. While I'm still involved in the movement, picketing isn't my thing these days, but I'm sure Joy would approve that I still care about the precious pre-born citizens and their moms too. Mom never blamed the women. Marching on Washington, showing films to youth groups, listening to her debate on the radio, driving her -- once she became ill -- to the board meetings of National Right to Life. It's something we cared about together.

Mom played bridge too. She was great at it. She also crocheted lots of clothing for my Barbies and cooked me a hot breakfast every morning. My sister Lori loved cheese eggs on toast. When she left for college, I begged my Mom, "Don't ever make that again, I'm so sick of cheese eggs!" (Love you, Lo!) She didn't. Her Brunswick Stew was the best and could she make a great shrimp salad or crab cake. She could type like the wind and when she was young, she knew all the statistics of the Orioles and liked whiskey sours. White Zin filled in during her later years. She was always on a diet but baked fabulous cinnamon rolls. She couldn't resist a good cheese bun, though. Joy shook her head, mystified at me and my dad laughing our butts off at The Benny Hill Show. But she loved to laugh. She just didn't like to laugh at Benny Hill. She'd go to the theatres to see Julia Roberts or Hugh Grant. Her porcelain skin never once sported a tan for she'd even burn after sitting under the umbrella. She loved shows like The New Detectives and laughed her share at Becker. In fact, her last words were uttered during that show. "That Becker. He's such a jerk." Ha!

She died ten minutes later. Slipping away there on the couch.

This is rambling, I know and maybe I'm oversharing, but sometimes a gal just needs to emote.

I miss you, Joy. Everyday. But especially right now.

love, your daughter, lisa

two red leaves and coffee on the deck

Autumn comes early to Maryland this year and I'm all for it.

Yesterday two scarlet leaves lay in the yard. Don't know from whence they fell. I saw no others. But they lay there on the long grass, like visual popping corn springing up to meet my gaze and I thought, Man! I forgot how much I love you guys, and instantly, the world cooled down a degree or two and for the first time in my life I wished the month of August away, thinking maybe a sweater would just do the trick to gentle my soul and socks might be a nice way to gear up for my scattered life as I puttered the mower up toward the driveway.

This morning, I let Miles Davis out for his morning constitutional. The air had cooled overnight, I'd guess settling somewhere in the high 50's. I immediately ran upstairs where Will was checking his email and suggested our morning hot cuppas on the deck. "Put your sweatshirt on."


"Yeah. It's like fall out there."

So we sat together, he with his tea, me with my coffee, and we chatted and dreamed and planned and thought big ideas and planned big plans because that first taste of Autumn, the cool slip of a changing season in your mouth, down your throat and filling your heat-addled summer lungs makes you think that just about anything is possible, and maybe, just maybe even probable.

grace to all of my bloggie friends today,


Wednesday, August 04, 2004

tres weird

My teenage daughter is sitting in the family room with her cousin and her cousin's boyfriend, laughing and watching a movie.

I'm the 40-year-old mom making the popcorn.

Sometimes these grown-up moments really freak me out.



Tuesday, August 03, 2004

creativity quotes

"The mainspring of creativity appears to be the same tendency which we discover so deeply as the curative force in psychotherapy, man's tendency to actualize himself, to become his potentialities. By this I mean the organic and human life, the urge to expand, extend, develop, mature - the tendency to express and activate all the capacities of the organism, or the self."

Carl Rogers

I'm not sure what the *$%@# this even means!


papa's got a brand new badge

Will works in DC. He gets to walk by armed guards now that protect his building under this new, heightened alert. Lucky us, his building is right smack between the World Bank and whatever the other one is that's been targeted. And he gets to wear a new badge that tells authorities he's supposed to be there. I'd like to say I've gotten used to this new way of life, but I just haven't. Oh, it's not that I'm going to stay indoors and cower under the bedsheets or anything, but living in such a volatile area sucks at times like this. And Will seems to find himself part of the action in one way or another. He's like that, tending to be in the thick of things.

Thank you, Al Quaeda. (And can somebody tell me the correct pronunciation of that? Is it Al KAY-da, or Al KI-da?)



Monday, August 02, 2004

tooting one's own horn

"In the modern world of business, it is useless to be a creative original thinker unless you can also sell what you create. Management cannot be expected to recognize a good idea unless it is presented to them by a good salesman."
David M. Ogilvy

Well, doesn't this just make you want to stick your head in a oven?

I mean, I hope he's wrong. But I've been around long enough to know the drill, watching writers pass me by, saleswise, year after year after year, because they are shameless self-promoters. Why can't I have that kind of moxy? Why am I embarrassed to belly up to the bar?




Sunday, August 01, 2004

"When Alexander the Great visited Diogenes and asked whether he could do anything for the famed teacher, Diogenes replied: 'Only stand out of my light.' Perhaps some day we shall know how to heighten creativity. Until then, one of the best things we can do for creative men and women is to stand out of their light. "
John W. Gardner (1912 -2002)

Well all I can say is, Amen to that!