COREY AND CLAUDE

"According to Claude you have 427 published posts and 284,000 words! I had Claude convert the XML to Word, and then I put the Word content into InDesign. It's 607 pages! The images just have placeholders but it seems to all be there. I also got Claude to build an csv/excel sheet with all of the images links. Insane." This was a text message from my son Corey. Claude is an AI tool.

It all started thirteen years ago--August 2013. Actually, I remember a seed planted c. 1966. I was a freshman at Jenks Junior High School, Jenks, Oklahoma. We were given an assignment to write an essay on what occupation we would like to have as adults. With all the certainty a 14-year old could muster, I wrote at the top of page one: "Being A Disc Jockey". That didn't happen; yet. However, I remember the process of writing that paper and finding joy there. I spent time in the library doing some research. I reached out to a local radio station and arranged to sit in the studio with a real DJ during his show. The best part was writing sentences and paragraphs and handing in my paper. Missus Cumbie, our teacher, returned it a few days later with a smile and an "A". Oh, sure, there were a few red marks and notations: something about dangled participles and comma splices; but nothing to cause discouragement for this young writer.

Through the years I've written some published stuff: mainly in books and articles about adolescence and for adolescents. For a time I wrote a column--mainly humorous/slice-of-life stuff--carried by a couple of small community newspapers. Vocationally I did copywriting: brochures, policies, manuals and the mundane: the word soups and stews that people like regulators insist the public wants and needs to know. The most consistent writing I've done has been in personal journals: thoughts on life, stuff to remember later, sorting through emotions and issues, seeking level mental health.

A friend and mentor relentlessly encouraged me to start a blog. A blog about what? “You're always talking about your grandgirls (this is before the boys were born), write about that.” About being Pops? And about being in the second-coming-of-age.

So in August 2013, I posted the first post and now, 13 years and 284,000 words later... 427 published posts and probably a couple of hundred more I've written and chosen not to post... What's next?

Since day one I've used a web services company called Squarespace for hosting this blog I call AboutPops. I pay an annual fee--not a lot but big enough to matter. For the last few years, as renewal time approached, I've contemplated calling it "good", closing the door, being careful not to let it hit me in the rear end as it closes.

kathleen Kelly (meg Ryan) closing up “the shop around the corner” for the last time

One of the things that keeps me from clicking the button that says: "Delete this site?" is that it also says: "All data will be lost!". All 284,000 words!? Yes. Maybe I can export it all or simply copy/paste/format all 427 posts. For what?

We've had talks with other folks our age about the fact that the next generation doesn't want grandmother's china. They have no sentimental attachment to our stuff. What makes me think anybody would want to save these dusty old sentences?

I mentioned this to our oldest son, Corey. Just as a hypothetical to see if he had any interest. I told him that I had spent several days copying and pasting from the Squarespace posts to a text editor and hadn't made a noticeable dent in the task. "Let's get Claude to help." he said. He explained to me that Claude the IA is great at doing reptitive tasks. Corey explained that he could ask Claude to go through the entire blog, scrape everything there and put it in a savable, salvageable format. In a matter of minutes it was done.

Back in the genesis of this blog I intended to avoid politics and religion--a promise to myself that I keep breaking with more regularity. Over the years I've reflected and written about weddings, births, the passing of family and friends, the search for meaning, some fun and some heartache, and adventures with My Amazing Missus. Occasionally someone will ask why I'm not writing as much. Oh, I do. But my heart and mind are so locked on the horror of our current earth-as-it-is, I struggle to think and write above it all, thus relegating the passages to the private journals.

So now that I have a viritual book of posts in safekeeping, I will continue to write for my own mental health and occasionally go public with a few thoughts, along with news ABOUT the Amazing Grandkids that make me POPS. That's ABOUT-IT.

The Day The Music Died

THIS POST IS INSTALLMENT #1 of a new series. In my current state-of-mind over the current state of affairs I'm searching for ways to find footing, forward-thinking, with a bit of escaping. So far, my tools include:

• Prayer -- prayers of lament and thanksgiving

• Exercise -- the kind for meditation, balance (both mental and physical) and flexibility (both physical and mental)

• Socializing -- stepping outside my very narrow and brittle comfort zone

• Substance Abuse -- I am treating myself to dark strong coffee drinks, frozen yogurt, peanuts, dark chocolate, and the occasional high-quality cheeseburger

Now I'm adding to the list of coping mechanisms a deeper immersion in the arts. I'm practicing my drums more. I'm even practicing the piano. I read an article that piano practicing is good for arthritic fingers because of the movement. "Motion is lotion," the article said.

I'm also going back to the greatest hits of my First Coming-of-Age, in the late 60s, when we had a president of questionable integrity and motives, and were stuck in a needless and seemingly unending war.

Those songs helped by giving a way to look at the zeitgeist. The power of poetry delivered with new, creative, culture-shaping music. So, for a few posts here on the old blog I'm going to remember and recommend some of those treasures that are serving again today in my Second Coming-of-Age to help me navigte the unrest and blurriness. Now, for the first installment, two tunes that are on my mind and heart and greatest hits list: Stairway To Heaven and American Pie. [Yes, I know I said songs of the 60s and both of these are of the 70s, but that counts too. It's my blog and I'll cry if I want to.]

members of led Zeppelin: john paul jones, robert plant, jimmy page

There's a video I've watched over and over; it's still moves me. It's an episode from the Kennedy Center Honors. You can watch it HERE:

In the video the band "Heart" is giving a tribute to the living members of Led Zeppelin by covering their song "Stairway to Heaven". The drummer playing with the band is Jason Bonham, son of the late John Bonham, drummer for Led Zeppelin.

jason and john bonham

Now when I watch the video it breaks my heart because the beauty marked by the Kennedy Center Honors is now gone--because the Kennedy Center is no longer the "Kennedy Center". It has been unworthily renamed by the illegitimately self-appointed chair of the Center's handpicked committee. Now the center is being shut down for "two years". And the words of Don McLean ring in my head:

A long, long time ago
I can still remember how that music
Used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
That I could make those people dance
And maybe they'd be happy for a while
But February made me shiver
With every paper I'd deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn't take one more step
I can't remember if I cried
When I read about his widowed bride
But something touched me deep inside
The day the music died...

I met a girl who sang the blues
And I asked her for some happy news
But she just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
Where I'd heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn't play
And in the streets, the children screamed
The lovers cried, and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken
And the three men I admire most
The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost
They caught the last train for the coast
The day the music died...

They were singin' bye-bye, Miss American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry
Them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye
Singin', "This'll be the day that I die."

--selected passages from Don McLean’s American Pie

JUST A SUGGESTION

SOMETIMES IT JUST DEPENDS on how you look at it. Or, [cue The Twilight Zone theme song] how you're told to look at it.

My Dad grew up in Louisiana. When we would travel there to visit grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and those not related by blood but by some deep southern root, we were given the talk as we approached our destination. "Now remember boys, here in the south people say, "Yes Sir and Yes Ma'am to their elders." It actually came out more as "yessir and yes-mmm". Also, we were told to expect different foods on the table than we were accustomed to, and we were to try every food that was on our plate.

There was always a big bowl of what I knew as Lima Beans, and I also knew for a fact that there was nothing I liked about them. "Here, David Lee, have yourself a heaping helping of Butter Beans." Wait. What? Could this be a delicious cousin to the evil Lima? A buttery beauty that would make bean eating better? Nope. A Lima bean by any other name is still a Lima bean: officially Phaseolus Lunatus.

Here's an excerpt from the official chronicle of southern living--Southern Living Magazine.

"Why two terms for the same bean? Well, lima beans get their name from Peru’s capital city, Lima, where they’ve been grown for more than 9,000 years. While we can’t say with 100 percent certainty how these beans also came to be known as butter beans, we can offer a theory: See, lima beans were often disliked, so some semantics likely came into play to encourage people to eat them."

What kind of southern-fried trickery are they trying to pull here? It's a perfect example of manipulation through the Power of Suggestion. Kind of like that little girl pulling one over on her daddy who thought he was getting fried chicken: "No Daddy, it's not fried! It's Shake'n'Bake, and I helped!"

Comedian Dusty Slay is unique and wonderful. Several times during each of his stand-up bits, in between jokes, he will say, “We’re having a good time.” He explains that most comedians ask audiences if they’re having a good time, but he likes to tell them they are because it’s less risky than asking. It's become a catchphrase for him and a testament to the power of suggestion. CLICK HERE TO SEE SOME DUSTY.

nora.

In a matter of days we attended a college track meet and an elementary school track meet. I heard a phrase at both: "You've got this Kyndall!" Or, "You've got this Blaze!" Blaze clearly did not have this. Blaze didn't even really appear to be interested in having it. I guess sometimes the power of suggestion can only do so much.

We had our youngest Grand, Jeremiah with us for awhile on Saturday. He had chosen to wear his "Flash" costume from a couple of years back. We went to his favorite park which has a foot race track complete with LED clocks for both lanes. Let me say this kid is fast. But, when he stepped into the blocks and pulled up his hoodie with a lightening bolt on each side--SWOOSH. He became the manifestation of his costume.

Although I feel like the times require something, I'm not going to put on a Flash costume, but does it feel too contrived to suggest, "We've got this!?" (Question mark added for the ambivalence that surrounds the confidence.)

Bob Dylan wrote these lyrics 61 years ago in 1964, suggesting that "The Times They Are A-Changin'" They were then and they are now. And as we read in Ecclesiates: "To everything there is a season; a time for every purpose under heaven."

Come gather 'round people
Wherever you roam
And admit that the waters
Around you have grown
And accept it that soon
You'll be drenched to the bone
If your time to you is worth savin'
Then you better start swimmin'
Or you'll sink like a stone
For the times they are a-changin'

Come writers and critics
Who prophesize with your pen
And keep your eyes wide
The chance won't come again
And don't speak too soon
For the wheel's still in spin
And there's no tellin' who that it's namin'
For the loser now
Will be later to win
For the times they are a-changin'

Come senators, congressmen
Please heed the call
Don't stand in the doorway
Don't block up the hall
For he that gets hurt
Will be he who has stalled
The battle outside ragin'
Will soon shake your windows
And rattle your walls
For the times they are a-changin'

We're having a _________ time.

IRL and the vMPFC

PRE-POST: This is a very special post, written mainly by a guest writer, at my invitation, in response to a question about life as we move through it. DO NOT assume that because my question is couched in a life transition called "retirement" that it does not apply to most every life at some point or another.

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IRL? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? Oh, I know it represents "In Real Life" but what does THAT mean? Let's engage our vMPFCs: vertral Medial Prefrontal Cortex, that region of the brain that increases in activity when we are introspecting about our selfs. (Or is it selves?) How do you know when and if your are living in reality? Do we just make it up as we go and that becomes reality? Does fate deal us a hand called real life and the best we can hope for is g(G)uidance on how best to play it?

More than a few of my grade school and junior high teachers commented on my report cards that I tended to do a lot of daydreaming. A lot of that daydreaming had to do with me putting myself into fanciful roles: maybe Ringo Starr was sick and The Beatles would call and ask if I could sit in for him on drums when they played on The Ed Sullivan Show. I bet the class bully would want to be my best buddy after that.

As I'm zigging and zagging my way through a maze of finding an identity as an old retired boomer, I get lost in a sort of thought fog. The newswriting lesson of key questions I learned back in my days as a journalism major in college comes back: Who? What? Where? When? and How? Is this harmless daydreaming, self-introspection, or, as the kids say: "getting inside my own head"?

I want to know more about this. Is it productive? Why does it feel like being STUCK sometimes? Is there potential for creativity, maybe a little self-actualization here?

I need professional help. Thankfully I know a girl.

She is a "mental performance consultant".

So, Dr. Brooke Fuller: I know your main focus is on athletics, but any words for a cranky, old wayfarer whose tennis racket is gathering dust on the closet shelf?

dr. brooke fuller, her husband and our son kyle, and theIR amazing family.

Maybe this daydreaming/introspection is a blend of harmless mental wandering on your quest to continue your creative ways; or it could also be searching for answers or grappling with unresolved thoughts or emotions.

You mentioned finding an identity as an old retired boomer. My first thought was Erikson's theory of psychosocial development. Many theories discuss development up to adulthood and then stop; Erikson, as you probably already know, continues his stages through one's entire lifespan.

The eighth stage, integrity vs. despair, involves a retrospective look back at your life and either feeling satisfied that life was well-lived (integrity, which is characterized by acceptance, sense of wholeness/success, feelings of wisdom) or regretting missed opportunities or choices (despair, which is characterized by bitterness, rumination over mistakes, feeling unproductive). Retirement is one of the life events that triggers this stage.

This past week I worked on a project for a university that seems relatable. They want to better prepare their athletes when they transition out of their sport. In my presentation, I shared with them how transitioning out of their sports career can be a significant life change and result in fear or uncertainty about future plans and loss of: identity, motivation, purpose, structured routine, social support (teammates/coaches), confidence, or external validation.

Maybe retiring from a career brings similar experiences.

Introspection is a healthy practice, but it is beneficial to handle it with care. Those who take self-reflection too far, may end up feeling more anxious, stressed, and depressed than ever (Eurich, 2017). You mentioned the newswriting lesson of key questions: Who? What? Where? When? and How? It’s good you are asking these and avoid the Why? questions. Why questions can stir up negative emotions and highlight our shortcomings, whereas What questions help direct us to stay curious and positive about the future. Creativity! Self-actualization!

"What a man can be, he must be. This need we may call self-actualization.” Maslow, 1943

What you can be, you must be! And I’m looking forward to it!

The realization of one’s full potential. Let’s add more introspective questions to the mix. What would your life look like here? What would have to happen to reach self-actualization? What is your full potential? What stones lie unturned? What’s next on your path to achieving your full potential? Or have you already?

Above self-actualization on the hierarchy, added later on, is self-transcendence. Realizing that we are one small part of a greater whole, and acting as such. We focus on others instead of ourselves. These experiences bring joy, peace, and a well-developed sense of awareness.

Someone who is highly self-transcendent may experience plateau-like experiences when they consistently maintain a state of higher perspective. Now, I’m not saying you have or have not reached self-actualization, but from the outside looking in, you have plowed right through to the top and hang out on the plateau landing of self-transcendence.

When it comes to productivity, daydreaming and self-introspection can be a double-edged sword. On one side, they can lead to creativity and self-actualization, as you explore ideas and reflect on experiences. On the flip side, if it feels like you're simply spinning your wheels without direction, it might seem unproductive. Out of all the athletes I’ve worked with, when they say “I can’t get out of my head,” it comes down to overthinking.

In sports, overthinking is, more often than not, unhelpful so we aim to relax the mind/relax the body, utilize effective thoughts, create goals and action plans, learn grounding techniques, implement pre-performance routines, enhance confidence and more, focus on what we can control and let go of the things we can’t…and many other awesome mental tools we use to calm the mind and quiet the rumination. Maybe some of these things can help a retired Boomer. ??

So how do you make the most out of this daydreaming, introspection, and zig zagging? Here are just a few ideas.

Embrace Creativity: Let your thoughts run free, but then take captive those creative ideas or recurring themes and run with them! Jot them down and do something with them!

Ground Yourself: When you feel stuck. Ground yourself in the present moment. This can help you shift from feeling STUCK, to a more intentional thinking. Take a walk, notice your senses, taste the food, smell the roses, hear the sounds, feel your feet on the ground, the wind in your hair (wink, wink).

Set Small Goals: If you find yourself daydreaming, to a point you are not fond of, give yourself a bit of structure. Consider which areas you'd like to explore or resolve and which ones to let go.

These moments of “thought fog” can be valuable, but the key is finding a balance that allows for both introspection and action.

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Is it okay for a guy to ask his daughter-in-law for free advice and then post it for all to see so that everyone gets free advice? If you didn't find something useful in her words, then I would suggest you read them again. If you found something you would like to explore further, visit www.fullermindset.com.

Thank you Brooke! Thank you for giving and for encouraging. Thank you for being a wonderful friend, wife to our son, mom to our grands.

Signing off now with the lyrics to a song from the mid-60s which was a part of the playlist for my first coming-of-age.

DAYDREAMIN'
By Lovin' Spoonful

What a day for a daydream
What a day for a daydreamin' boy
And I'm lost in a daydream
Dreamin' 'bout my bundle of joy
And even if time ain't really on my side
It's one of those days for takin' a walk outside
I'm blowin' the day to take a walk in the sun
And fall on my face on somebody's new mowed lawn