Rambling then Outline of Lizzy's Cuteness

Two big things happened today: the stock market went down by over 320 points, and my granddaughter Alex had her 7th birthday. Now, there are those who would say that one of those events is unimportant, irrelevant, trivia while the other is significant. Half of those would say that it is the birthday that is truly important—they are the existentialists. The other half would say that the birthday, because its significance is limited to so few people is the trivia while the other event affects billions of people causing a deep and profound resonance around the globe. Those are the dickheads.

Both may be important, but I have to admit that the birthday is the one that finds resonance with me. I didn’t take pictures, sing songs and give gifts because of the stock market. And it is a true phenomenon of nature that a granddaughter can have so much importance to an old man. But there you have it. I cannot defend myself. It was just damn cute how her little sister, Lizzy, doted on her and enjoyed the whole process too. No matter what Lizzy or Alex say it is cute. I see each of them the same way many people see god—always getting praise and never blame. I told my son the other day that his curse was that no matter how bad Lizzy was, even when she was acting really snotty, she was cute. He agreed that it truly was a curse. Poor man.

My other fun for the day was working on a spreadsheet for Lorri. A spreadsheet can soak up a ton of time and while sporadically frustrating, overall it is just fun. To put something from your abstract a priori thinking onto a spreadsheet as a series of formulae, then see it actually work…it is just great.

My latest theory about writing is that it is essential to write a lot—reams and reams or words—in order to get better at it. Of course proofreading it is critical, but the sheer volume or writing is fundamental. The question remaining is whether that alone is enough to make one a credible writer or if you have to take analysis, correction and criticism from others to make much progress. So far I resist that idea because I don’t have someone to do the criticizing. That is why I’m sticking with my theory that sheer volume is the key factor here.

Of course other ideas can be of benefit too. I think it would be helpful to outline a piece—fiction or non-fiction and learn to flesh out an outline. The stylistic writing might not improve but the force and cohesion of an argument would have to improve. I’ll have to try it and see how it goes. The evidence for the need is this piece itself. I rest my case.
 

These two episodes were written from an outline:

Lizzy is our granddaughter. Her cuteness is more than just the cute face of a little 3 year old girl. The other day we were in Mark and Amy’s (Lizzy’s parents) living room. Her other grandfather Gary had come from work and his wife Barb brought him a clean shirt to change into. He took off the dirty shirt and was putting on the button up shirt when he saw Lizzy staring at him. Now Gary is a macho blue collar guy who is all extrovert and a little overweight. He pattered his protruding belly and said, “Hey Lizzy! See my big belly?” Totally unabashed Lizzy boomed in a loud voice, “Yes. And I see your big boobs too!” Caught off guard Gary was quiet for about 5 seconds then tried to cover himself with some bravado. But it was too late. The rest of us were already rolling on the floor laughing.
Then Lizzy’s father Mark told about a comment Lizzy uttered a couple of days ago. Apparently her mother was in the kitchen and had one of those badly timed minor kitchen accidents. Exasperated she blurted out, “Oh s---!” Lizzy said, “Moma!” Quick on his feet Mark jumped in to save the day, “It’s OK Lizzy. That is a grown up word and Moma is a grown up, so it is OK for her to say that word.” Lizzy, quick on her feet for a three year old said, “I know Dad, but that word is only for driving!” Mark was stunned for a second but then was laughing too hard for a comeback.

Answer to "What is the meaning of life?"

Today I exercised and began work on my ethics presentation for the School on Alcoholism. Then I saw some of the tree monkeys in the backyard trees climb onto the back of our huge crows and fly out over the valley, they knitted long rope ladders and climbed down to the valley floor. That left the crows quite confused. (Just kidding—needed some excitement.)

Let me think about the ideas I came across today. Surely every one of us comes across ideas each day even if we are too dull to notice them. Well, I didn’t notice any ideas today.

Well then, did I come across any beauty today. Actually I did. At lunch I saw the beautiful bright spring light shinning down in our back yard and pointed it out to Lorri and Michelle. I suggested that we were eating good food at our new table in new chairs looking out over a beautiful scene. They agreed then went back to watching the news on TV. Depressing. Still, there was a moment of noticed beauty. It was a good moment.

My problem for the day is creating a new presentation for the school. Solving a problem of any kind—engaging one’s mind in a task for which we are designed-- is like a hand fitting into a glove and smoothing out the wrinkles. Our minds are made to do things—to think through issues or to understand and appreciate things. So if, for example, a person stairs at the workings of a giant clock to understand how the mechanism works the mind becomes engaged and in so doing fulfills its potential. It is like a dog or a cat watching a laser light move about on the floor. There is something built into the mind of a small predator animal that is captivated by the dot of light moving on the ground. Over the years my dog has learned that the light only appears when I am holding a certain object in my hand. When the light disappears she comes back to me and looks at the device, her eyes begging me to show her the light again. If I point it at one place on the ground she tries to bite it but her muzzle blocks the light and she backs away. Then she sees it again and goes after it. After a while she just stairs at it until it moves, then she goes in for the kill. When I shin it on the wall she repeatedly tries to bite it, slamming her face into the wall. It must hurt. But something compels her to keep doing it. Somehow there is something in her brain’s wiring triggered by the laser light creating a deep impulse. She can’t stop herself from chasing the light.

People’s brains are more complex, but can be engaged in ways not all that dissimulator from my dog’s brain. The closest analogy is a video game. That kind of engagement is not productive but millions, perhaps billions, of people will spend hours with their brains engaged in the quest to win the game.

But it is not only video games. All of us seek to have our brains engaged in some way. It feels good. People work at jobs, develop careers, and create projects at home and at work, because the human brain is made to be engaged in solving problems and appreciating things. Of course the work we do can be productive, and on it rests the progress of civilization. But engaging the brain can also serve to pass time or as a tool to help manage pain. That is why I say that unrelenting focus on a task, total absorption in the doing of something or in the attempt to understand something is itself the fulfillment of the human potential the actualization of the human design. Completion of the project is merely the end of the absorption. It is in the focus itself that we find the meaning of life.