Most people seem to look outside themselves when things are not going their way. They look for whose at fault and begin to assign blame. There are many times when I wish I worked this way, that my brain went in that direction. But, it does not. I tend to blame myself and attribute every little problem to some poor decision, some malady, some sin.
I have been reading Job and find myself stunned by his argument, which is basically "I have never done wrong, so why are things going against me?" I am stunned, not because I wonder if he is delusional, but because of a life wherein one believes themselves blameless is a life I can not understand. I lay awake at night, wondering "what ifs." What if I were a better person? What if I had made better choices in my life? What if I were a better husband, provider, father, protector? What can I do to be better? And, I never feel it is enough.
In all honesty, I know that my wife and kids are better people than I am. I am not envious or dismayed, but grateful that I have been so blessed when I am unworthy. I know that the life I lead, my house, my wife, my kids...these are beyond a reasonable result of the decisions I have made. They are the essence of the Grace which God gives me everyday, that which I do not deserve. As I watched Celebrity Rehab last week and saw one of the counseling sessions, Dr. Drew talked about the addict viewing themself as bad forever because that is the way they were treated as a child. Having been treated, and told, that I was bad, weird, lazy, odd and had no value this touched me pretty deeply. I realized that I still see myself this way.
One of the graces which God has given me is that I have never been addicted to any substance. In my teen years, it was not from lack of trying, let me tell you. I simply never got hooked. Based on what I have heard, people must have a predilection for addiction. But, I would say that my upbringing would give me that. It is only by the Grace of God that nothing ever took hold of my life. I still see myself as less than others however, and not in the humble Christian way, but in a sort of sick way. Since I don't act very humble most of the time, I think people would be surprised by the level of my self-questioning. It is just self-protection =)
Monday, February 11, 2008
Friday, February 8, 2008
Part one
I was born in East L.A. I know it sounds like Cheech Marin's parody of Springsteen's "Born in the USA," but I really was. We didn't live in the area though and I have no idea why my folks were in that part of La La Land. We lived in Garden Grove, an Orange county suburb about an hour south of L.A. My parents have only ever told me two things about the day I was born. The first is that they didnt have a boy name, apparently convinced that this would make it certain that I would be a girl, so they only had the name Deborah Kay. I received my name on the 5th day of my life, just before the hospital was about to print "un-named" on the certificate. Incidentally, this would have made me named after my mom's dad, "un-named Bowman." The second was what they both said as soon as I was born, simultaneously, "what an ugly baby!" I am not kidding. This is not only a verified fact, but for some reason they felt the need to tell me regularly as I was growing up. They would tell me, my friends, my girlfriends, strangers.
I am not trying to be melodramatic, but rather trying to paint an accurate picture of what my early life was like. My earliest memories are both of being slapped across the face by my Dad. One was for interrupting him while he talked to a friend and the other...I don't remember why. My big brother Darin(by all of 22 months) was the only person who stood up for me. Both of my parents have confirmed that they liked him better, but that is okay, because he has always liked me better than them. My parents divorced a few months after my third birthday and I remember that day well. I am not sure why it is so clear in my head, I feel confident a therapist could tell me.
It was summer of 1970 and Mom, my brother and I were boarding a bus. For some reason, I was convinced we were going to Disneyland. We must have driven by it, because I remember seeing it and anticipating the joy which we would soon experience. Of course, we lived very close to Disneyland, so now I realize that I saw it all the time, but this day I was sure we were going. I remember the car my dad was driving, I remember the look on his face as he crossed the street when we were pulling away. Mom & Dad were always a bad match. They not only did not love each other, they did not like each other. It was a hook up that resulted in my brother's birth, they got married just before he was born and split up at least twice between his birth and mine. They could not be more different and it was better for all involved that they did not continue their marriage. As someone who believes strongly in marriage, I can say that, because I am certain they would have killed each other had they stayed married. We went to Pasadena to live with my Aunt Carole and her Husband Gene.
If I was three, that means my aunt was 17. I think she got married at 15, but it may have been 16. I don't remember much about that time with them. They had a dog named Charlie Brown who would chase Volkswagen's, only VW's. My uncle had recently returned from Viet Nam (years later he died of cancer brought on by "agent orange disease"). He was a gifted illustrator, I think he worked for Disney, but I am not sure. He was also a mean bastard who beat me even more than my Dad did. At the time, my grandparents owned a small market in Pasadena, but I don't remember it. My Popo (was supposed to be papa, but you know how babies mispronounce everything? it stuck) was a huge man. He was 6 feet 5 inches and had a booming voice. He had spent most of his life as a Southern Baptist travelling evangelist, mostly because he could not get pastoral work since he did not have but a 4th grade education, and most churches would like someone with a seminary degree. He was completely unqualified for just about anything, was a rumored philanderer and was in every way a con man. This I only know now, then he was larger than life and he was my Popo.
*to be continued
I am not trying to be melodramatic, but rather trying to paint an accurate picture of what my early life was like. My earliest memories are both of being slapped across the face by my Dad. One was for interrupting him while he talked to a friend and the other...I don't remember why. My big brother Darin(by all of 22 months) was the only person who stood up for me. Both of my parents have confirmed that they liked him better, but that is okay, because he has always liked me better than them. My parents divorced a few months after my third birthday and I remember that day well. I am not sure why it is so clear in my head, I feel confident a therapist could tell me.
It was summer of 1970 and Mom, my brother and I were boarding a bus. For some reason, I was convinced we were going to Disneyland. We must have driven by it, because I remember seeing it and anticipating the joy which we would soon experience. Of course, we lived very close to Disneyland, so now I realize that I saw it all the time, but this day I was sure we were going. I remember the car my dad was driving, I remember the look on his face as he crossed the street when we were pulling away. Mom & Dad were always a bad match. They not only did not love each other, they did not like each other. It was a hook up that resulted in my brother's birth, they got married just before he was born and split up at least twice between his birth and mine. They could not be more different and it was better for all involved that they did not continue their marriage. As someone who believes strongly in marriage, I can say that, because I am certain they would have killed each other had they stayed married. We went to Pasadena to live with my Aunt Carole and her Husband Gene.
If I was three, that means my aunt was 17. I think she got married at 15, but it may have been 16. I don't remember much about that time with them. They had a dog named Charlie Brown who would chase Volkswagen's, only VW's. My uncle had recently returned from Viet Nam (years later he died of cancer brought on by "agent orange disease"). He was a gifted illustrator, I think he worked for Disney, but I am not sure. He was also a mean bastard who beat me even more than my Dad did. At the time, my grandparents owned a small market in Pasadena, but I don't remember it. My Popo (was supposed to be papa, but you know how babies mispronounce everything? it stuck) was a huge man. He was 6 feet 5 inches and had a booming voice. He had spent most of his life as a Southern Baptist travelling evangelist, mostly because he could not get pastoral work since he did not have but a 4th grade education, and most churches would like someone with a seminary degree. He was completely unqualified for just about anything, was a rumored philanderer and was in every way a con man. This I only know now, then he was larger than life and he was my Popo.
*to be continued
Thursday, February 7, 2008
stories and such
I have decided that I will begin writing stories and such or at least parts of them, for my blog. As you may notice, I have a rough time with follow through, so if I do not write some kind of fiction for a span of 7-10 days, please remind me. Also, I am considering starting a writing group to explore what it is to write "Christian" art. My hope is that this will produce a number of works which can be released publicly in one form or another, but if it does not it is okay.
I am lacking in creativity today, so I will not be starting today. I am tired and a little numb, neither for any reason I can think of. I am a man who lives on passion and inspiration, but am a little dispassionate and uninspired right now.
I am lacking in creativity today, so I will not be starting today. I am tired and a little numb, neither for any reason I can think of. I am a man who lives on passion and inspiration, but am a little dispassionate and uninspired right now.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Marry up
I was working on a story today and to give everyone an idea of how I write fiction, it becomes and acting excercise. I always put myself into the place of the person speaking so I can think like them, talk like them, do what they would do. Well, I have for some time had an idea I have tried to work on about a man in his late fifties who loses his wife and how he goes on. His kids are trying to get him to date and what that would look like fascinates me. I picture this man as having the kind of relationship I have and it makes it a really hard story to finish.
There is a scene in the John Cusack film, "Must Love Dogs" to which I am drawn. Christopher Plummer plays the elderly widower father of Diane Lane's character. He happens to be carrying on a relationship with two different women when she cant get one relationship going. He explains it to her as just having fun and she confronts him, asking (I paraphrase due to lack of sufficient memory) him why he does not search for a more meaningful relationship, the love of his life. His answer is what set me on this story. He says something to the effect of, "I already met and married the love of my life. She died."
So today I am sitting in my car carrying on a conversation in my head of a grown daughter saying to her father, "Dad, its been a long time...two years...its time to move on." and so far, this is the response playing in my head.
"Your mother and I were married for 25 years. She was all that is good and bright in the world. Do you know what I mean? She made the world have color, or made those colors deeper, more clear. I don't know. Twenty Five years! How can I make up for that in two? We were partners in everything. How could I ever have another? Would it be fair to make any woman compete with who your Mom was? Or her memory?"
Understanding the dilemma of the man is not my problem. My problem is trying to get past this conflict, because I don't know if I could. I almost started crying just putting myself in his shoes for a little bit. I don't know, perhaps I have to take away my own feelings, make his wife not as great as mine so its not so personal. But if I do that, is it not a different story? Bah! I am uncertain. I will put it in a drawer and see if it ferments into something better at another time.
There is a scene in the John Cusack film, "Must Love Dogs" to which I am drawn. Christopher Plummer plays the elderly widower father of Diane Lane's character. He happens to be carrying on a relationship with two different women when she cant get one relationship going. He explains it to her as just having fun and she confronts him, asking (I paraphrase due to lack of sufficient memory) him why he does not search for a more meaningful relationship, the love of his life. His answer is what set me on this story. He says something to the effect of, "I already met and married the love of my life. She died."
So today I am sitting in my car carrying on a conversation in my head of a grown daughter saying to her father, "Dad, its been a long time...two years...its time to move on." and so far, this is the response playing in my head.
"Your mother and I were married for 25 years. She was all that is good and bright in the world. Do you know what I mean? She made the world have color, or made those colors deeper, more clear. I don't know. Twenty Five years! How can I make up for that in two? We were partners in everything. How could I ever have another? Would it be fair to make any woman compete with who your Mom was? Or her memory?"
Understanding the dilemma of the man is not my problem. My problem is trying to get past this conflict, because I don't know if I could. I almost started crying just putting myself in his shoes for a little bit. I don't know, perhaps I have to take away my own feelings, make his wife not as great as mine so its not so personal. But if I do that, is it not a different story? Bah! I am uncertain. I will put it in a drawer and see if it ferments into something better at another time.
Monday, February 4, 2008
Ouch!
I have a brutal headache and back pain today, so no blog. Sorry! I promise to be twice as good tomorrow, though twice as good as nothing is not a hard hurdle to overcome.
Friday, February 1, 2008
Reality Shows
So, many of you know that my sister-in-law is a working actress from a fairly successful entertainment family. She is a gifted actor, writer, musician, etc. She is the kind of talented person who sort of makes you feel small when she and her friends are hanging out, not by any action or word, just by how cool she is and how not cool you are. Anyway, apparently she is not fond of reality shows.
I know it makes me very provincial, but I like reality shows. We watch our share, and by our share I mean that is most of what we watch. So my brother calls the other night in the middle of American Idol. This is generally the way this goes...phone rings, Cathy and I both look at it and say "What is wrong with people? Do they not know that Idol is on?" Anyway, he asked what I was doing and I said I was watching American Idol, to which he replied, "I can't hear that." So I said it louder, but that is not what he meant. He proceeded to tell me that I was taking money out of their pockets by doing so, which made me laugh and he assured me he was deadly serious. Hopefully he was not too offended when I said if they made more interesting TV, we would watch it.
They are among that group of people who we call "Hollywood types." Generally they look down on anyone who lives more than 50 miles from a coast as hayseeds and morons who do not get their more elegant and vastly superior culture. Now, my brother and his wife are intelligent, gifted people who just wear blinders most of the time to some basic truths. I must admit that they would probably say the same about me. I think it is really hard not to put your own personal tastes on everyone else, but I do believe it is worth the effort. What do you think?
Reality Shows one or both of us currently watch, or have recently: American Idol, Celebrity Rehab, Top Chef, Project Runway, Real Housewives of Orange County, Make me a Supermodel, My life on the D List, Last Comic Standing, So you think you can dance and a few others which Cathy will remind me of later.
Scripted shows we like right now: Heroes, the Office, Psych, 4400, Law & Order: Criminal Intent (not as good this season IMO) & Law & Order SVU. Okay, as you can tell, those are shows I watch and my wife humors me and watches with me.
I know it makes me very provincial, but I like reality shows. We watch our share, and by our share I mean that is most of what we watch. So my brother calls the other night in the middle of American Idol. This is generally the way this goes...phone rings, Cathy and I both look at it and say "What is wrong with people? Do they not know that Idol is on?" Anyway, he asked what I was doing and I said I was watching American Idol, to which he replied, "I can't hear that." So I said it louder, but that is not what he meant. He proceeded to tell me that I was taking money out of their pockets by doing so, which made me laugh and he assured me he was deadly serious. Hopefully he was not too offended when I said if they made more interesting TV, we would watch it.
They are among that group of people who we call "Hollywood types." Generally they look down on anyone who lives more than 50 miles from a coast as hayseeds and morons who do not get their more elegant and vastly superior culture. Now, my brother and his wife are intelligent, gifted people who just wear blinders most of the time to some basic truths. I must admit that they would probably say the same about me. I think it is really hard not to put your own personal tastes on everyone else, but I do believe it is worth the effort. What do you think?
Reality Shows one or both of us currently watch, or have recently: American Idol, Celebrity Rehab, Top Chef, Project Runway, Real Housewives of Orange County, Make me a Supermodel, My life on the D List, Last Comic Standing, So you think you can dance and a few others which Cathy will remind me of later.
Scripted shows we like right now: Heroes, the Office, Psych, 4400, Law & Order: Criminal Intent (not as good this season IMO) & Law & Order SVU. Okay, as you can tell, those are shows I watch and my wife humors me and watches with me.
My book pick
Okay, so Oprah has her book club, let's see if I can put the publishing world on notice and give my choice a bump (based upon my viewership, if I give the same percentage bump for a book, 1/1,000,000th of one of you may buy my suggestion).
Steve Martin's "Born Standing Up" is absolutely worth the read. It is a fascinating look at his life written by a man I consider one of the most clever writers in Hollywood today. It is very straight-forward and insightful and is filled with that sort of "who's who" of entertainment folks which I always find compelling. I give it 4 stars, 3 thumbs up and a partridge in a pear tree.
Anyway, it is a good read and pretty interesting. Go buy it!
Steve Martin's "Born Standing Up" is absolutely worth the read. It is a fascinating look at his life written by a man I consider one of the most clever writers in Hollywood today. It is very straight-forward and insightful and is filled with that sort of "who's who" of entertainment folks which I always find compelling. I give it 4 stars, 3 thumbs up and a partridge in a pear tree.
Anyway, it is a good read and pretty interesting. Go buy it!
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