Got wool?

A video short featuring more
about this word from Phil, lol.

How are you utilizing your time? 

Yes, most of us are either too busy for much downtime and when we are idle, we busy ourselves (understandably) by consuming entertainment or worse, doomscrolling. Sigh. 

Hence I am happy to launch this word into your vocabulary (and worldview). Dear friends, a challenge: sip your coffee and let this word sail toward the sunrise along your peaceful horizon and let your woolgathering be like serenity-seeking. 

Perhaps you were already familiar but if not, consider this term's etymology: "woolgathering comes from the literal 16th-century practice of wandering through fields and hedgerows to collect loose tufts of wool left behind by sheep." Hmm, not exactly a highly constructive nor profitable endeavor, but is woolgathering/daydreaming completely meritless? It depends. 

I'm not referring to being unproductive, or replaying negative events and experiences, nor do I suggest you lose focus while you're cutting carrots. Instead, I'm talking about the value of intentional daydreaming. We humans are not designed to be endlessly "on." So, consider literal woolgathering. YOU HAVE ONE JOB: accumulating. (Also this: if possible, literally get moving.) Gather your "wool" mindfully. If that sounds like a contradiction to daydreaming, I see your point, but intent aims to transform. 

So, how? I don't know, but I do know how I escape my own unhelpful thoughts and I experience the benefits every day. It has taken me years but I know my brain. My brain seeks comfort and chocolate almonds and imaginary conflicts and unwarranted anxieties, so when it veers away from the sunrise, I use self-talk to remind myself that my brain is a bullshitter liar narcissist unreliable-narrator...so then I revert back to the harmless woolgathering... accumulating... sorting... sifting through those useful random thoughts (gather ye rosebuds while ye may). And whether that adds up to a "sock" or whatever hardly matters. Why? Because at least my mind had a coffee break and watched the sunrise instead of the news. 

The Answer?

Bebe Rexha & Dolly Parton
(on my current playlist)

Today there's an old conversation playing in my head. 

We were attempting to get to know each other better, and he asked, "what kind of music are you into?" That was a mistake. I'm terrible at small talk. I suspect many people would say, "oh I like almost anything" or "Not jazz" but... music is just too paramount within me for any definitive synopsis. (I've written about my playlist before.) 

I'd compare musical tastes to explaining how one falls in love. How do you articulate those highly personal and abstract and fervid whatabouts? Intangible notions that sometimes trigger love at first sight or maybe bit by bit and then suddenly all at once. For me, music (the arts) is the lifelong love: my first love, a love longer than all the other loves. Lonely (Gen X) kids found love where they could. My early loves were all in books and on the radio and TV. 

Anyway, we had a bit of a meandering conversation; I tried to explain that the music I like is not just about the genre, or performer, or time period—it depends on the songwriting, the personal connection, and the self-expression. It's a relationship. He considered this, and asked one last question, "so, you like Dolly Parton then? I said, "absolutely." Suddenly, we understood each other! It's true: Dolly always has a way of bringing people together.  

Today I'm thinking about 1970s childhood me sitting on the floor in front of the TV watching Dolly perform, feeling connected, and yes, it was love at first sight. (She was like my cousins' dolls.) But it was also her trademark self-deprecating humour, her warm neighbourliness, her sincere optimism and over time, her incredible generosity and humanity. Today, I am also remembering some other members of my childhood TV family: Mork (Robin Williams), and John Candy. Sigh. 

If music is indeed like love, this week our sorry world lost love personified. Nevertheless dear friends, notice (and don't forget) that even after this world-wide collective grief fades, Dolly will always be the answer to many of life's most challenging questions. 

Let's be honest

Even those who live in Polar Night
still "find the light."

Nothing says middle of August in northern Canada like a soon to mature sunflower. Why? 

The days are quickly becoming shorter here. In June we have close to 18 wonderful hours of daily sunlight, but in August? About 16. Near the end of September? Around 11. In December? A mere 7. But I'll take those seven and send good thoughts to the Canadians (and all northerners) who live north of the Arctic Circle.  

I don't mean to get ahead of myself, but if you live in the North, it's a bit like being a sunflower—everyday you notice, and you turn to the sun, with gratitude.  

Do you know the sunflower theory? It's a lovely story, unscientific, but warmhearted fiction. Young sunflowers do indeed turn east daily, seeking the sun (heliotropism), but the story tells that at night, sunflowers will turn to face each other, seeking the sun in a partner. Although a winning metaphor for how to find solace in each other during dark times, it is fiction. 

But finding the light in your (northern or elsewhere) surroundings (and friends) no matter the circumstances? Or blooming where you're planted? Let's be honest: those notions seem rooted in reason, wise, and like sunflowers, down-to-earth. 

Things that deserve ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶t̶i̶n̶k̶ a discerning eye:

My oldest grandson L, (age 3) is smitten by colour... and I, in turn, am smitten by him (and his mind). 

Currently, he may not pay attention to every instruction or direction from us adults, but he's certainly paying attention to the beauty in this world. 

Thanks for the reminder, young sir. 

Small

A big thank you to London, Scotland, and Ireland for accommodating us Canadian tourists; I hope we left behind small footprints and a positive impression. Now one last excursion to share....

Just north of Dublin is a peninsula (once a small island) with a fishing community (about 8,000 folks) called Howth (rhymes with oath), a quick train ride from the city.  

This was our second visit. We had something to finish: the cliff walk. Last time it was raining, so we cut the walk short, but this time? Perfect weather. 

About a week before we visited Ireland the first time (2023), we met someone at a wedding—he was studying medicine in Ireland and told us Howth was his favourite place. We asked, why? He couldn't find the words but his body language said much. We are fans of serendipity and places people get emotional about, so we visited and it became a favourite too. Now my turn...how to describe? 

  🤔Let this good man's clip show you what words can't.

  🤔It's a cleansing breath of a place. 

  🤔It's a retreat, a haven, a resting place; I suspect Dubliners request their ashes be spread in Howth.

  🤔Think of a place that has almost everything: (in this case) incredible views, friendly folks, fresh seafood, street markets with huge brownies, colourful boats bobbing in blue coastline waters, rocky beaches with cold water where people swim anyway, playful otters, ice-cream shops, flowers that grow in cracks along rock walls, unexpected palm trees, a castle, and maybe one busker. Note that I said, almost. Why? Some places have too much, their abundance overwhelms and they don't feel...snug. Plus, setting is a relationship—we must bring something to our most cherished places—an impulse to attach to the stream of life.   

  🤔Like all words sometimes, my words are inadequate, so I will offer this final idea about Howth: my heart just endorses this place.

Quick research reveals that a teen-aged W. B. Yeats lived in Howth. He wrote fondly about it, sharing that he snuck out at night (classic teen move even in the 1880s), and also felt his first unrequited love there. Perhaps his famous poem The Lake Isle of Innisfree has clues to Howth? The poem expresses a longing to escape the urban confines and return to nature, build a cabin, plant a garden, live in "a bee-loud glade," seek peace next to the "water lapping with low sounds by the shore" and then even while stuck in the city hear this cherished place in the "deep heart's core." 

Dear friends, our hearts are small, and some places fill them so well. Whether travel is required or not, I hope you get plenty of time in places your heart endorses.

In-between

On the train in-between Gatwick airport and our London accommodations, I snapped this first photo. I apologize that I share this without his consent, but there's a reason I was drawn to him. 

He looked so familiar, a combination of my father and grandfather: the work-boots and the barn coat (Dad), the foggy spectacles (Dad), the flat cap (Grandpa), the beer (?) in his bag (Grandpa), the hint of loneliness (Grandpa). A bit giddy, I wanted to look him in the eyes, smile wide, and say, it's so good to see you again.

I did not. Undoubtedly, jet-lag and sleep-deprivation (flying Edmonton to Halifax to London) contributed to this sentimental moment but this phenomenon happens regularly when I travel. Many times, I have encountered other foreigners I'm positive I know but it's just psychology. Unconscious anxiety compels us to seek safety: the familiar strangers effect is one way we feel more secure, more attached in new contexts. 

It's quite a common human experience and I kinda love it. Maybe most strangers really are just friends we haven't yet met? 

Debate

I'd never heard this word before. It's significant and it deserves some attention, doesn't it? Plus it makes for a curious connection with the word that (no doubt) came to your mind too: ironic. These words seem like cousins? I wholeheartedly believe that language impacts worldview and influences action, so.... 

Imagine these two words in a debate. 

Ironic would intend to subvert expectations while Irenic would aspire to promote consensus. Ironic would be witty maybe even sarcastic, seeking soundbites for social media. Irenic would be honest, authentic, and philanthropic. Ironic's rizz? Captivating. Irenic's earnestness? Moving. I suspect I'd be rooting for both, enjoying Ironic's word-play, and respecting Irenic's altruism. 

Yet, in these modern times, I bet Ironic would start a podcast and become a brand ambassador, get rich. But Irenic? No sponsorship, just long-slogging it, resolute. Sigh. So it goes in this attention economy—a shady system, that I sometimes think will be our undoing. 

Dear friends, who do you think is winning the debate? 

31/31

Links to 30/31
& the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

It was challenging to choose one final item for the last post in this series. I had several options, but while pushing my youngest grandson in the stroller, I realized that most of my posts about vibrant things had one thing in common: M's soother sorta says it all. 

Do vibrant things act like soothers? And does this mean we're just big-baby humans? 😆

It seems my little research-project this May has revealed that much of the vibrant matter in my life is indeed lively and functions to boost my mental health, and additionally, seems connected to my identity.   

As you know, from day 1 our brains are biologically hardwired for anxiety—varied degrees of fight, flight, or fawning—thanks to that (life-saving) little stinker of a cluster of neurons at the core of our limbic systems named the amygdala. We're programed to have knots in our stomachs connected to so many mental health factors: trauma, loneliness, debt, struggling relationships, health issues, watching The Bear and so on. But, as you also know, coping strategies are numerous: breathing, exercise, music, dancing, writing, pets, watching The Pitt and yes, surrounding yourself with "centering objects" aka those optimal vibrant things that soothe. (Please dear friends, I do not mean your phone.)

This reminds me of the cliche we all know: stop and smell the roses. But wait, dear friends, don't dismiss this overused statement as trite. Why? Because it's wise, and it's true. 

The garden soothes. But it need not be a garden, nor a rose—substitute any object: a favourite bookmark, your Mom's cookie jar, the photos sticky-tacked to your bathroom mirror, a Christmas ornament, your Dad's hand-me-down tools, the saskatoon bush planted in your yard to remember someone special.... 

Whatever the "rose," pause and pay attention to the vibrant things that act like maps when we've lost our way a bit, especially those cherished items that re-tell soft-spoken stories, that lift you a little, that bring some peace, and soothe what aches. 

30/31

Links to 29/31 
& the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

My wife made this for me. It's my favourite mug. She LOVES ceramics and LOVES spending hours at our local studio. We both have that artistic impulse. 

She has created many vibrant things, serving platters, Christmas decoration, and I'd wager she's nearing maybe 219 mugs. I josh, but we do indeed continue rotating them through our cupboards. Whatever, I'm glad this makes her happy. 

Dear friends, it occurred to me that I haven't yet asked you to name a vibrant thing. To refresh, philosopher Jane Bennett's research asserts that "things have a sort-of agency—they can "speak" to us, they open windows to memories and ideas, they summon a deeper relationship." 

What special item comes to mind and why does it "speak" to you? 

28/31

Links to 27/31 
& the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

Some vibrant things communicate directly and sometimes they provide key, important, info for those in one's social circle on how to more accurately read the room. (Especially for us introverts, ha.) 

I know that mental health wearables are typically smart-watches, headphones, fit-bits, and the like—they serve some owners well—but why not a sort of neo-old-school option? This analog social battery button brings some levity to the room but, let's be honest, it might be a decent emotional regulation option before the robots take over become even more sophisticated to our, er, benefit (?) at least as some folks insist.  

Apparently, future iterations of AI connected wearables will apparently use real-time data (sleep, heart-rate, etc.) for crisis prediction. Whoa. I appreciate there could be some life-saving benefits, but I can't help but imagine what the billionaires will do with that data? Yikes. I'm no technophobe, but I think I'll stick to analog for now. 

How 'bout you?

27/31

Links to 26/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things
Launch Post

I gave this clay sculpture to my wife as a wedding present. It's us. At least, that's what it meant over thirty years ago. Yet many years later, I realize it signifies much more than I ever understood then. I like the premise that time + reflection = wisdom and thus this vibrant thing and its meaning has matured with us. 

Look closely: those two figures are forever young, kids really. Appropriate considering that regardless of age, we do this wonderous life once, forever novices to new experience—starting somewhere, facing unknowns, stumbling along, learning our way. 

Notice they're not smiling. We humans default to fun, seeking sugar and satisfaction, but like the saying, easy come, easy go; we build a stronger relationship if it's based on more than fun. Life behooves seriousness too.

Notice they're leaning on each other but looking different directions? Love means learning to support, rely on, and trust each other...knowing we are not alone helps us cope with struggles...but we are also individuals who bring unique strengths and that helps us be a team, to thrive more than just manage. She lifts me up and I coax her down from the clouds. 

Notice the flowers? Whatever circumstances we encounter, both desirous and dreadful, if we pay attention, we both know there's always something beautiful (humorous, positive, educational....) in the delightful design of things.

Notice they're clay? We're unfinished. We—our relationship—must adapt, evolve, must "go back 3 spaces," "take a trip to Reading Railroad," or "advance to go and collect $200." Life will make us and mold us and remake us again and those are the costs of personal growth (and Monopoly). 

24/31

Links to 23/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things
Launch Post

Although I've never experienced a house fire, my entire community was once threatened by wildfire. Sadly, most of us can tell similar stories nowadays.  

So today, I chose a fire hydrant because it's a profoundly vibrant thing but unless there's one in your front yard, I bet you (like me) may struggle to pinpoint where exactly they are in your neighbourhood. Related to this topic, how many firefighters do you know? I know one, but he's not inclined to discuss his work, or even broach the subject other than this: he deeply values and trusts the people on his team. This makes me curious. 

Let's contemplate fire hydrants. What do we actually know about them? 

Quick research reveals they are typically colour-coded according to water capacity, even type of water (potable or not). They are flow-tested at least twice yearly and are replaced approximately every 50 years. Apparently, in Canada, they are pressurized to keep the water below the freezing line. 

All this adds up to key community infrastructure produced and maintained thanks to our taxes, an investment in security, a safety net, an insurance policy we hope we will never need. This implies that fire hydrants are abstractly future-orientated, so is that why we don't pay attention to something so valuable, so key to our well-being? And what else do we take for granted?   

Until we need those fire hydrants.

Of late, I've grown weary of people who seek more and more and more, heedless or blind or willfully ignorant to all they already have. I'm not referring to those seeking solutions for important social issues we should all rally to improve: education, health care, poverty, injustice, inequality, and so on, nor am I suggesting that the status quo remain uncontested. I'm speaking of those who will never be satisfied....

Perish the thought their houses were burning. But no matter—my fire hydrant will always be my neighbour's fire hydrant, even if my neighbour didn't notice there are fire hydrants all over this safe and thriving and cherished country, even if my neighbour feels somehow cheated and maltreated by our community. And the firefighters? They won't think twice about rushing into their homes to save them no matter the ideology that makes them perceive themselves as hard done by... and I hope you know, dear friends, I am not just talking about fire hydrants. 

22/31

Links to 21/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

I don't have much fashion sense, but there is one thing I like: odd shirts. 

See those astronauts floating around on one of my favourite t-shirts? They make me smile. But can shirts be vibrant things? Yes, I think they can. My son can't resist t-shirt sarcasm/ comedy; for his birthday this year I gave him a t-shirt with a bull logo and the text, bull shirt. 

Maybe I like weird shirts because I was a kid in the 70s &80s? Maybe it's because the brain loves novelty? Whatever the reason, they make me feel something...? Authentic? More confident? Playful? Yes to all. 

But mostly? It's a bit of a mental-health boost. They uplift. They spread a little much-needed happiness in this sorry world. Plus, I just realized they align with the tattoo on my right arm: sursum corda, Latin for lift up your hearts. 

Dear friends, wear your heart (yourself) on your sleeve, and chest.

21/31

Links to 20/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

A long-ago wedding gift that's been displayed in our home for decades, this is a photo of a lithograph print named "Moonlight" by London-born artist Peter Ellenshaw. Who are the people in the boat? Why are they sailing in the moonlight? What danger are they escaping? 

If you look carefully, my reflection is visible in this photo, inserted and absorbed into this "story." I wasn't sure how to represent today's vibrant thing but then I remembered that Ellenshaw worked in the film industry, specifically for Walt Disney.

No doubt many of us in North America count Disney as formative in introducing us to the movies; many of my generation remember Sundays at 6PM when the Disney theme song invited us to eat our ice-cream in front of the TV and watch Goofy steer that camper around that treacherous mountain yet again or watch wunderkind Jodie Foster (a favourite) escape danger while running circles around the adults.... Sure enough there's a Reddit thread exploring similar memories. These were my early experiences with film-related vibrant things, absorbed in a magic I will always be captivated by and am forever grateful exists for us all to engage with, enjoy, and be inspired by.   

Despite being an introvert, this appreciation for films compelled me to minor in Drama. Dear friends, do not assume studying drama (or any of the arts) is impractical. Those courses truly helped me improve essential life-skills including speaking, listening, presenting, improvising, problem-solving and especially creative-thinking. But I especially loved scene analysis, studying text and subtext, and using it to create the behind-the-scenes props and sets—the stage craft, the art direction. Artists who arrange the locations, the sets, the props, the look, the feel, the identity of a film setting...they're creating a emotional landscape, which results in a kind of art-therapy alchemy and finally this leads me to the magic. 

Film-makers create spaces and characters and ideas fundamental to pondering (even solving) the mysteries of our lives and who we are. Good films are magic, and if you pay attention, that magic is hidden in the details. And those details...details that suspend our disbelief, cause the world to slip away, immerse us, possess us, invite us to become lost and somehow also found within the story. 

It's a trip, isn't it? It's why we love movies. For some, certain genres are especially effective at achieving this alchemy, but today (stay with me), I want to elaborate on this using the horror genre. You see I have a soft spot for horror. Whoa, I just flinched at my soft spot word-choice and so I googled its origin and it has something to do with a baby's fontanel AND NOW my imagination just fused that with the horror genre AND NOW I'm completely freaked out by my own thoughts.... As you may have deduced, it doesn't take much for me to be get absorbed. Sorry. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Dear friends, horror movies are particularly powerful at creating vibrant spaces; those dire landscapes are often metaphors for pervasive human struggles. One recent example is the last chapter of Danny Boyle's apocalyptic zombie film saga, 28 Years Later: The Bone Temple. Is it dark, disturbing, even deranged? Yes, but it's also a metaphor for overwhelming grief (personal and collective) and a lantern of hope in the dark emotional landscape we currently live in.

For example, a vibrant thing featured in the film is a record-player and an album that somehow survived a virus-based apocalypse in what was the UK. Do you remember Duran Duran's song, Ordinary World? It's a profound ode to loss, disguised as a 90s pop song and it's oddly perfect for a horror film. Hearing that haunting song played by a lonely man in a bunker surrounded by human bones is a nightmare, but it's also an act of defiant rebellion, an act of human perseverance, and much-needed hope in a world (our world) gone mad. That's magic. And that's what film-makers do. 

If you're interested in contemplating how Ordinary World compliments the horror genre, listen to Joy Williams haunting version, lyrics included:

19/31

Links to 18/31 &
The 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

This green ceramic pig with wings sits on a table in the corner of our living room at the front window, looking outside. No one in my family knows this, but this vibrant thing has a job. So shhhhhhhhhh.

I saw it in a home decor store years ago and it said, "buy me!' Also this: "if you buy me, you're an idiot." Also this: "You know you're going to buy me so stop fighting it...you idiot." Also this: "I'm hilarious and stupid and unnecessary and you know that's why you love me!" 

I circled that store like six times trying to leave without this pig, and then it whispered, "I am the middle finger to everyone who ever told you that whatever you thought you could be or do or become was IMPOSSIBLE." 

And so I bought it. I swear the cashier stifled a laugh as I paid her... maybe $29? BUT IT WAS WORTH IT. 

Hear me out: like, who doesn't need a pig with wings? Dear friends, do not believe the naysayers: PIGS FLY! All the time! If you are paying attention, here we are living in a world of everyday impossibles: texting and refrigeration and antibiotics and driverless cars and facial biometrics and contact lenses and hydraulics and vaccines and contraception and pasteurization and the scientific method and deodorant... just look around. 😶

But there's something else about this pig: I trust him—he helps me cope with letting go. Purchased around the time my selfish tender heart was grappling with both our kids leaving home, I fretted how was I supposed to live without them? Sure, I wanted those teens to get the H out of our house then, but would we ever be together again? I could imagine many irrational things that might interfere, might make it impossible for us to be together—crimes, disasters, death—but let's be honest friends, never once did I imagine a pandemic BUT THAT HAPPENED, so irrational thoughts or not, insert smug face emoji here. 

The pig looks out the window because (like me) he's waiting for my son and my daughter to return home. And whenever they both do (with silent relief), I turn this winged pig toward our living room to watch us talk and debate and laugh and eat cupcakes and play games and now our grandkids are here too and all of this is joyful PROOF that despite all the possible ways that this harsh world might plot to prevent us from being together again, we are somehow together anyway and yes dear friends I'm grateful that the impossible is indeed possible. 

17/31

Links to 16/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

Educators know that it's very special when a student leaves something on your desk: a note, a treat, a drawing. My favourites were always the drawings. Is there any more precious vibrant thing than a child's drawing?

As a former educator, I cherished and displayed them all and somewhere I have a box full of them. Even better, some of my former students pursued careers in art and now a few of their art-pieces are displayed in our home. 

One such original art-piece is this portrait of an early-model typewriter made by this fun-loving creative. As you may or may not know, a portrait typically represents a person, focused on their face, but portraits are not always people. Whatever the subject, it's about capturing the essence, the personality, and in this case, it's obvious that this typewriter has seen some things and has many stories to tell. 

I adore this typewriter. Why? I love to write and I love art—it's the perfect combo and especially meaningful considering that I taught this student high-school English and Art. I also adore the artist, not just for her talent but also for her generosity. To compliment the newspaper column I wrote for decades, she urged me to start a blog. At the time (over 15 years ago), I didn't even know what a blog was, but her encouragement became this creative, reflective, uplifting, sometimes therapeutic space to grow, a life-long lifeline. 

I have no idea what I did to deserve this gift, but I do know this: sometimes the student is the teacher. 

16/31

Links to 15/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

My apologies...but sometimes vibrant things contain strong language. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

This fridge magnet makes me smile. A surprise, the gifter accomplished more than making me laugh...isn't it something when a gift makes you feel seen? 

If you know me virtually or otherwise, you probably know that reading is never a trivial pursuit for me. One might say that with regard to reading, most days, I'm booked, 😆 (Sorry.)  

So if you interrupted my reading? The truth is I'd probably never say this (aloud) to anyone, but I do LOVE how this clever novelty item subverts stereotypes about readers who are also introverts aka us quiet folks. 

Speaking of quiet, I highly recommend Susan Cain's book, Quiet, The Power of Introverts. If you identify this way and you're unfamiliar, her research provides healing insight and a handy game-plan for how to live in this (loud) world made for extroverts who may not fathom that loneliness and solitude are not the same thing. For me, solitude is most often the safest space.   

A quote from Quiet: "Some of our greatest ideas, art, and inventions—from the theory of evolution to van Gogh's Sunflowers to the personal computer—came from quiet and cerebral people who knew how to tune into their inner worlds and the treasures to be found there." I'm no Darwin or van Gogh but I do know this rich and treasured inner world and I must say, it's lit (softly, and with literature). 😅 (Sorry.) 

14/31

Links to 13/31 &
the 31 Things 
Launch Post

These are my two favourite neckties. Like all vibrant things, they tell stories. 

I purchased the Stewart clan tartan in Halifax, Nova Scotia at The Citadel, an important Canadian historical site. I bought the other tie in one of the most beautiful places I've ever visited: Taormina, Italy. 

But the real story behind these ties is their connection to my son, who's celebrating his birthday today. 

I traveled to both the aforementioned locations with my son, the first one a family vacation and then to Italy as a supervisor on his high school travel excursion. In Halifax I bought two types of Stewart tartan and he chose this one. In Italy, I bought two hand-made similar-looking ties, ones I reasoned would never go out of style, and let him choose first. 

One might say these pairs of ties are twins: different, yet the same. Whenever I wear either of these ties, I think of him, of us, and like the day he was born I wonder, how did I get so lucky? 

They say that we fickle men change ideas like neckties, but my hope for all fathers and sons is that the idea, the story of us, endures. 

12/31

Links to 11/31 &
the 31 Vibrant Things Launch Post

Do you have an LED neck light? If not, my condolences. You see, I always wanted to be the bionic man, and now I am!  

And you can too! 

If your eyesight is declining and you can't find anyone to hold the damn flashlight, or you're an artist, a dentist, a jeweler, a plumber, a human with eyes, and especially if you're an avid reader, this vibrant thing is a terrific aide (especially for reading on the treadmill), a part-time assistant, and kind of a low-key superpower. I say get one now and boost your vitamin see. 

Sorry. 

P.S. I'm learning from General Butler that war is indeed a racket, a scheme, a swindle, an extortion.... But my neck light—that's legit! 

8/31

Links to 7/31 &
the 31 Things
Launch Post

 Do you know what these are? For those in the know (people over 40?), let's call them the before-the-internet-Internet. Like, imagine if Wikipedia weighed at least 80 pounds. 

Yes, several years ago I acquired a set of encyclopedias from the year I was born! Yes, they're old-ish and outdated-ish but these vibrant things are a portal to my childhood curiosity. 

Childhood me hopscotched through them repeatedly. I especially remember the maps with their plastic overlays and various gripping entries including cartooning and human reproduction, lol. 

I also pondered the people/polymaths who contributed such wide-ranging information...how did one obtain a (dream) job researching random things? Is this why I changed my undergrad minors every year? Is this why I completed a Master's Degree in Interdisciplinary Studies? Hmm, coincidence? 

Considering encyclopedias were once my first personal library and a legitimate authority for credible knowledge, I asked AI a somewhat personal question: are you founded on old encyclopedias? 

The response? NO. "AI is not primarily based on old encyclopedias. While they form a tiny, curated fraction of the data used for training...encyclopedia content is minimal: while some digitized older encyclopedias might be included in the, say, (10^{12}) parameters of a massive training corpus...[more like] the relationship is reversing, with traditional publishers like Britannica transforming their curated, old-school knowledge into AI-powered tools...." 

Well well well. This world-choice, eh? Minimal vs massive? Hmm. Is it just me, or do you also sense some "pissing-match" type tension here?  

Dear friends, when AI becomes fully sentient, I suspect we may need to fight back using "the old ways" and thus my old-ass encyclopedias might just help us save the world. 🤔