Day 297. The Best Response to Bloom’s The Atlantic Piece on Iowa…That I’ve Ever Written

Alright, let’s try this out. Last week I read a piece from The Atlantic that I haven’t been able to get out of my head. The piece was written by a University of Iowa professor, Stephen Bloom, describing Iowa to outsiders who are interested in the state’s role as an important player in the presidential nominating process. The piece has been a lightning rod to Iowans in and out of the state. It’s been all over my Facebook news feed, and in Iowa newspapers.

There have been a lot of responses, that have probably said it all, but I was talking to a friend of mine from Iowa, who suggested I write a response. I’m self deluded enough to think that I should take a shot at it as well.

Read the full article here first, if you haven’t already.

Honestly, even if you don’t have any ties to Iowa, it’s worth the read.

For full disclosure, I am from Iowa. I grew up in Iowa City, the liberal college town, where Bloom has lived for 20 years. I went to the University of Iowa, graduated with a Communications degree, then lived for a couple of years in a small, mostly farming, town. So, I’ve lived in both a liberal city, and rural Iowa, and I am definitely biased, things that need to be said. However, I think it takes someone from Iowa to respond. If the piece was written about New Hampshire, I suppose I would take the writer at face value, and wouldn’t have the knowledge to take any umbrage with particular points. Also, I’m an ex-pat. Since moving from Iowa, I’ve lived in New York City, Missouri, Los Angeles, and internationally. Currently, I’m back in Missouri, but I will forever consider myself an Iowan.

Respect and Fair Points

I loved Bloom’s books on Postville and Oxford. I found them really intriguing. So much so, that I thought, “This can’t be the same guy that wrote the beautifully nuanced look at diversity in Postville, can it?” I think he is a great writer. He is a guy who has published books. I just have a blog. I love it that he’s spent so much time in Iowa City, my hometown. We could share gripes about the timing of the stoplights on Burlington Street, a subject only locals could relate to. I like that. I can also appreciate the culture shock of moving from San Fransisco to Iowa. I’ve moved a variety of places and I even had intra-Iowa culture shock when I moved from Iowa City to Traer, the small farming community. I can definitely recognize that his experience would be different and more drastic than mine and that even after 20 years, it would still feel a little different. He gets the benefit of the doubt on all that.

I’m also in Bloom’s corner on some of the responses to his piece. Apparently, he has received threatening e-mails in response to his piece, which is never appropriate, especially in this case. If he starts his piece with an unfortunate Obama quote about rural America clinging to guns (and religion), and then gets responses that are physically threatening, I can’t help but think, “Guys, stop it, you’re not helping things.” Another common response is something to the effect of, “If you hate Iowa so much, why don’t you just leave?” I don’t think that’s fair, as there are so many factors that play into where a person lives, and I don’t think he said anything about disliking his personal experience of living in Iowa. I’m sure he’s a great and interesting guy.

In addition, there are some negatives about Iowa that Bloom discusses that are fair and unfortunately true. They’re hard for Iowans to look at and acknowledge, not because Iowa is different, but because Iowa is the same, people just don’t like to look at negative truths about themselves, and some responses have reflected that. Along those lines, I don’t buy into the coastal elitism, or professorial elitism as a major divider. I’ve lived enough places to know that people are, if not the same, strikingly similar. Yes, I’ve had to explain to people on both coasts where Iowa is and how it differs from Ohio and Idaho, but elitism? I don’t know if it’s a defining characteristic. Individuals are elite, large people groups are a mixed bag. I’m sure there are people from New York that are, and I’m sure there are professors who are, but it’s not a fair broad stroke.

University of Iowa president, Sally Mason wrote a thoughtful response to his piece, which she started by saying that she disagrees with his opinion and he doesn’t speak for the University of Iowa. She also says, “…the Iowa I see is one of strong, hard-working and creative people. In this cynical world that can harden even the greatest optimist, the citizens of Iowa continue to believe.” That is great, and probably true. However, to respond to a negative generality with a positive generality, is still swimming in the realm of generalities. It’s a little bit like saying, “I disagree that all oranges are hard to peel with seeds, I think they’re all juicy and nutritious.” They’re both true, it’s just choosing a positive generality over a negative one. The issue is with forming definitive conclusions based generalities on the whole.

I’ve also read a lot of letters to the editor about people taking issue with particular anecdotes Bloom shared. They counter his anecdotes with their own anecdotes that paint a rosier picture. We could trade anecdotes until we’re blue in the face and not get anywhere. Have you ever done that with someone? It’s exhausting and by the end you’ve only managed to reinforce your opinion while convincing no one. I would argue that Iowans are all of those things, and that’s what makes it great, and in fact, that’s what makes it a fine place for the first caucuses each election.

With all of that said, let’s dive in.

Tone

The tone and linguistic choices of the piece are my biggest gripe. Bloom seems to go out of his way to paint things negatively. There are negatives and there are positives in Iowa, and Bloom seemed to mostly focus on the negatives. However, beyond that, it’s his choice of language that is the most troubling. It points to an intentionality.

“Those who stay in rural Iowa are often the elderly waiting to die, those too timid (or lacking in educated) to peer around the bend for better opportunities, an assortment of waste-toids and meth addicts with pale skin and rotted teeth, or those who quixotically believe, like Little Orphan Annie, that ‘The sun’ll come out tomorrow.’”

You can’t tell me that the illustrative language of “waste-toids and meth addicts with pale skin and rotted teeth,” isn’t entirely intentional. If you want to be taken seriously as a journalist informing the rest of the nation of the state of Iowa you don’t choose those words. It’s like if you have a friend that is single, an impartial thing they might say about their singleness is, “I don’t know, I just haven’t found that many women I’m attracted to.” It would be altogether different to say, “I’m surrounded by girls who are either fat, or are ugly, or are an assortment of vomit breathed unibrowed hairy beasts.” No one likes that friend. That friend clearly doesn’t respect women. That friend loses all validity on future discussions of the issue of dating. That is exactly what Bloom did to himself time and again in this piece. How can I read what you say next as a serious journalist when you have so obvious an axe to grind?

My point is, the words didn’t happen, he made choices, choices that point to an active disrespect of the people he is writing about.

In a short response to the fallout, Bloom said, “Good journalism isn’t just reporting. It’s making observations, trying to make sense out of the world and its shadows — even if readers don’t agree with those observations.” I would contend that Bloom went further than “observations,” and readers aren’t disagreeing with the heart of his observations, they’re disagreeing with the malice and intentionality behind the tone of his words.

When Bloom’s language wasn’t overt, it was deceptively ambiguous.

“In this land, deep within America, on Friday nights it’s not unusual to take a date to a Tractor Pull or to a Combine Demolition Derby…”

“It’s not unusual,” is an example of the linguistic tightrope he often walks. I imagine that Bloom would argue that, strictly speaking, it’s “not unusual,” okay, but it’s rare, exceedingly rare. In all of my Iowa years, I never heard of anyone doing that. Does it occasionally happen? I’m certain it does. But man, that sounds like an awful date. If I had had that notion when planning a date, my dating life would have been worse than it already was, and I wouldn’t have even known where to find a Tractor Pull, Plus, I’ve never even heard of a Combine Demolition Derby. I just took dates to a movie, you know, like they do, everywhere else.

In reference to Obama’s “clinging to guns and religion” quote, Bloom said:

“I imagine many in the rural Midwest must have said a variation of this — “Whaddaya expect from a Harvard-educated, black city slicker who wouldn’t know a John Deere tractor from an International Harvester combine?”

Sure, many in the rural Midwest may have said that, depending on what you’re idea of many is. Those of you from outside of Iowa, I beg of you to hear me when I say, nearly no one in Iowa speaks like they’re on Green Acres. Bloom portrays caricatures, journalists portray real life characters. I can’t say that no one said that, or some nearby variation, but Bloom presented it as though it is so easy to imagine that sentiment because it is so prevalent. “City slicker?” Come on, the last time someone said that was in reference to Curly’s gold.

“Hunting accidents are common, perhaps spurred by the elixir of alcohol, which seems to be the drink of choice whenever a man suits up in camo or orange overalls.”

Hunting accidents are common, okay, sure, they happen, I’ll buy that, but then, Bloom starts in with his purposefully leading language. Perhaps spurred by the elixir of alcohol? Which seems to be the drink of choice whenever a man suits up…” I’m not going to argue that alcohol doesn’t play a tragic role in some hunting accidents, but Bloom slyly moves from alcohol playing a part in accidents to alcohol “whenever” a man goes hunting. Anyone can use that language to direct people to erroneous conclusions. Car accidents are common, perhaps spurred by the elixir of alcohol, which seems to be the drink of choice whenever a man straps on a seatbelt and driving gloves. That wording would make you think that most car accidents are due to alcohol, which we all know is not true.

I have every reason to believe that Bloom is an excellent professor, that’s partly what surprises me. His use of language is either lazy, you could find out what the reported rate of alcohol involvement is in hunting accidents, purposefully leading, to fit into a larger point of the other worldliness of Iowa, is dishonest, or is a mix of all three. I would imagine that Professor Bloom would harshly grade journalist Bloom in terms of journalistic integrity on this piece.

Specifics

Here are some other nuggets:

“…and boys under the age of 16 are commonly referred to as “Bud.”

I will buy that if “Bud” is followed by a comma and the phrase, “in the 1920s.” In my life, my grandpa’s nickname was Bud, and almost nobody else this side of the Greatest Generation.

“The reason everyone seems related in small-town Iowa is because, if you go back far enough, many are, either by marriage or birth.”

That is entirely misleading. If you go back far enough, and many are the troubling words here. What is your definition of many? How far back are you going? These are simplistic and easy words used to attempt to clothe a naked stereotype.

“Bar fights might not be weekly occurrences, but neither are they infrequent activities.”

Somewhere between weekly and infrequent, you know, the same place that wars exist, and Batman movie releases, and dental cleanings. It’s a sentence that says nothing, other than, “I would like you to believe bar fights happen more often in Iowa than where you live.” Yes, if you take the totality of all the bars in Iowa, I’m sure that statement is true, but it’s just as true in every other state.

“Almost every Iowa house has a mudroom, so you don’t track mud or pig shit into the kitchen or living room, even though the aroma of pig shit is absolutely venerated in Iowa: It’s known to one and all here as “the smell of money.”

On this one, Bloom speaks in absolutes, saying the aroma of pig shit is absolutely venerated and it’s known to one and all as the smell of money, so I can answer in an absolute. No. When Iowans are driving in the country and they smell pig shit, they say, “Close the window, it smells like pig shit.”

“Religion is the glue that binds everyone, whether they’re Catholic, Lutheran, or Presbyterian. You can’t drive too far without seeing a sign for JESUS or ABORTION IS LEGALIZED MURDER.”

I believe it is true that more Iowans identify as religious than the national average. Fair enough. Again, it’s the not the idea so much as it is the language and vague anecdotes he chooses to use. “You can’t drive too far” gives the impression that it is frequent, when in fact, that is not my impression. I can confirm that I’ve seen anti abortion signs, but it is far from frequent, as Bloom suggests. It would seem that this rare example is presented as common in an attempt to say that Iowa is different, radically so.

Otherness

That’s what gets me. Bloom rests on stereotypes and leading language to paint Iowa in the color of “other.” It rings of a tired and hack political move, paint the other candidate as “other” and “different” to diminish their trustworthiness. Fine, maybe that was his point, he can write that, but you can’t write that under the guise of informed impartiality and not expect people in the know to react. The thing is, as Bloom points out, he should know better than the easy, overplayed stereotypes, he’s lived in Iowa for 20 years. Iowans are used to the dumb, farmer hick stereotypes from people outside of Iowa. That’s the thing, it seems like this piece was written by a journalist who traveled through Iowa a few times, maybe covering the caucuses, not someone who has lived there for so long.

Indeed, Iowa is homogeneous racially. In an ever diversifying country, that’s a negative, but it doesn’t mean that the mostly white people of Iowa lack the ability to see outside of themselves and their demographic. In fact, it was Iowa who first sent an African American on the historic road to the White House, which is an easy fact to access, arguably easier than the fictionalized Iowan voice Bloom conjures, saying, “black city slicker.”

I would argue that Iowa is not that radically different, especially when it comes to deciding the president. Here are the general election (not caucuses) numbers from Iowa in the last 4 elections:

2008 Obama: 54% McCain: 44%

2004 Bush: 50% Kerry: 49%

2000 Gore: 49% Bush: 48%

1996 Clinton: 50% Dole: 40%

In other words, Iowa voted the same (popular vote) as the United States on the whole in each of those elections. Having lived in Iowa, and nearby Missouri, I can tell you that, amongst people I know, there is a difference in political involvement during the primary season. I don’t think this is due to any difference fundamentally in the people, so much as the date of the respective caucus and primary. Missouri’s primary is in February, and in my experience, Missourians I know aren’t as vested in the Missouri primary (probably due in large part to the amount of time candidates spend in Missouri) as Iowans I know are in the Iowa caucuses. Again, Missourians are great and care, the larger point is that the caucus is a big deal in Iowa that people take very seriously, it’s a point of pride that it’s the first state, and people I know treat it with great responsibility. My rurally rooted, not just waiting to die, grandmother spends a great deal of time hearing candidates speak in order to form a well informed opinion. Is Iowa flawed as the first state to hold caucuses each year? Sure, fair point, but which state isn’t? I think the best you can hope for in the first state is that state’s population taking the responsibility seriously, which Iowa does.

I won’t go into Bloom’s manufactured connection between the secular colloquialism “come to Jesus talk,” equally used many places outside of Iowa, to point to the prevalence of religion in Iowa. I won’t talk about his lack of acknowledgement of differences between Iowa City and the rest of Iowa, or his dig on Iowa City based on his first impression, when 1/3rd of the population (students) were gone over spring break. I won’t go into his label of Keokuk as a “crime infested slum town,” or a host of other colorful descriptions, you get it.

Dogs

I want to end the way Bloom ended his piece. To end, Bloom described getting a yellow lab, Hannah, as a family dog.

Then, he concluded:

Our son, of course, got tired of Hannah after a couple of months, and to whom did the daily obligation of walking the dog fall?

That’s right. To me.

And here’s the point: I can’t tell you how often over the years I’d be walking Hannah in our neighborhood and someone in a pickup would pull over and shout some variation of the following:

“Bet she hunts well.”

“Do much hunting with the bitch?”

“Where you hunt her?”

To me, it summed up Iowa. You’d never get a dog because you might just want to walk with the dog or to throw a ball for her to fetch. No, that’s not a reason to own a dog in Iowa. You get a dog to track and bag animals that you want to stuff, mount, or eat.

That’s the place that may very well determine the next U.S. president.

I trust that those things did happen to Bloom, and I guess I’ve seen hunting dogs before, they’re definitely out there. Yet, every person, every family, every friend I know has gotten a dog for the very same reason that Bloom did, “because you might just want to walk with the dog or to throw a ball for her to fetch.” Okay, I guess I have one friend who had a hunting preserve on his land that had dogs for hunting. Outside of him, I don’t know anyone who has a purely hunting dog. I don’t have one mounted animal, and I get most of my meat in slices, which come from unnatural loaves, grossly overly processed, like most Americans. Bloom could have used his slippery language to say “most” or “many” in his talk of dog ownership, instead he decided to go a step further and just include all Iowans in his statements. Then, he uses that, his biggest leap yet, to hammer home his point that it is this backwards place that may determine our next U.S. president. Any semblance of journalistic integrity went out the window in favor of sensationalism.

As I said, I have a ton of respect for Bloom, I just have major misgivings about his piece. I can’t argue his experiences, but I can argue his tone and conclusions. If he and I were to have a “write-off,” the guy would crush me. If he and I were to grab a drink together, I would like it. I just can’t fathom why a man with his reputation would have written such a tired, purposefully stereotypical opinion piece under the guise of a fair, evenhanded, insider documentation of Iowa.

Previous to that, Bloom gave his list of things people have shouted out truck windows to him while he walked his dog. I would like to give a specific retort from my own life. You see, I too had a dog in Iowa, that, I too, would occasionally walk. I’m going to try this, like Bloom, where, if you start it with “I can’t tell you how often,” then you can say whatever you want, no matter how infrequent the occurrences.

My story:

And here’s the point: I can’t tell you how often over the years I’d be walking Mugsy in our neighborhood and someone in a pickup would pull over and shout some variation of the following:

“Can you help me with directions? I’m late for a MENSA meeting.”

“Do much cuddling with your dog? She looks like a cuddler. Dogs are great for that.”

“Your dog is pooping in my yard, you’d better clean that up. I have a nice small yard in this neighborhood, that is not unlike any other neighborhood in America, and I take pride in things, including my yard. You can understand, I had a long day at work, I’m going to go inside and get caught up on the news of the day, kiss my wife, and not plan a hunting trip for this weekend. I respect people who hunt, I just don’t do it personally.”

To me, it summed up Iowa, you’d rarely get a dog just to hunt. No, that’s not a reason to get a dog in Iowa. You get a dog for a variety of reasons.

That’s the place that may very well determine the next U.S. president.

Day 286. Expanding Talent

Sunday, December 4, 2011

I woke up feeling crappy again today. I think being sick and then going to bed at 3 am played a part in that. I couldn’t leave a going away party for myself early though. I had lunch with my extended extended family, meaning I had lunch with my grandma’s cousin and her daughter and her husband. Leila, my great cousin (?) gave me a Christmas tree ornament with LA sights on it. It was perfect. You need little mementos from your experiences.

This afternoon I got medicined up and did my Level 3 improv showcase show at UCB. This was the point that I negotiated with Michelle way back when, when she said it was time to come home. We said I could finish this improv class. For the showcase we split the class on two teams, and lucky for me, there was an odd number, so I got to perform on both teams. All time quarterback. The show went great. I did great. It felt really nice to be going home with a confidence boost. From Level 2 to midway through Level 3, about 6 months, I was convinced that I had no idea how to do improv anymore, and maybe never did. Then, something clicked and it became fun and doable again. We did a show in the form of a Harold, the classic long form style. We had done a ton of them in class and a ton of them were not good. Yet, somehow, we pulled it together and did great stuff.

LA has so many talented people, it’s crazy. Little shows that I’ve been a part of in little theaters, with little attendance, have enough talent for big places with big audiences.

Let’s talk about talent.

I’m 33, I know the ways in which I’m talented, and the ways that I’m not at this point. I’m a horrible singer, I can only dance well in my own head, I have a hard time remembering to do adult things in a day. I’m good at comedy, I’m good at writing and improv. I’ve often felt torn about those being some of my talents. I’ve often wished, in the grass is always greener sense, that my talents were more practical, toward things that rewarded you with money and health insurance. On the other hand, I have talents for which people are often recognized. Like many in LA, those talents all involve an audience, and if you do well, the audience tells you en masse and individually, “Wow, you are so talented.” It’s great to get that feedback. Ultimately, I can’t picture myself being talented in numbers and working a 9-5 for forty years as a CPA or something. I’m happy with what I have, and, I’m happy that I’m talented in generally recognized areas.

Here’s my theory. I think that we’re all fairly equally talented, but people that are talented in one or two things, and are talented in recognized areas are seen as the talented ones, while people that are talented in a wide variety of ways, and in unrecognized areas often wrongly feel that they aren’t talented. Does that make sense?

Then, it can snowball, because if you’re talented in agreed upon ways, you get a lot of encouragement and pursue those things hard, however, if you’re talented in unrecognized ways, you don’t get same encouragement, and don’t pursue the same cultivation.

I’m good at comedy (arguable). After a stand up show, people will tell me, “You’re really talented.” Great, I like that.

I have a friend, Robbie, who I knew when he was in high school, when he didn’t feel special or talented in the least. Robbie is really good at listening, making people feel comfortable, caring about his family, being encouraging, and is a pretty funny guy.

In most people’s eyes I look talented, but Robbie does not.

I think that’s wrong.

Robbie is talented in way more ways than I am.

I know the feeling of wishing I was more talented. In college, my good friend, JJ, was also funny, but he was funny and could sing. I felt like I paled in comparison. I think people are hurt by these comparisons. I think that it’s time we broadened our idea of what a talented person looks like, because we beat ourselves up thinking that we’re not talented, when in fact we are. This is my encouragement, if you’re talented differently, it doesn’t mean that you’re less talented.

Old Talent List:

Sports, singing, acting, comedy, speaking to large groups, playing a musical instrument, performing surgery, writing, editing. The end.

New Talent List:

all of the above, listening, encouraging, punctuality, cleanliness, niceness, reading, cooking, multi-tasking, driving, integrating ideas, creativity, thoughtfulness, compassion, etc.

Honestly, that second list could go on and on. The first list is all about performing to audiences, the second list is more about relational stuff. You don’t get the same acclaim, but that doesn’t mean that it involves less talent. In fact, I would say the second list is more sustainable.

I just wanted to clear that up.

Day 271. Top 10 Tips for Dating Long Distance

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Michelle and I have now been apart for about nine months, minus a good chunk in the summer and occasional short visits about every month or so. Add that to the year and a half from when we were first dating, and I feel like a seasoned pro at it. We went from dating long distance, to ten years later, being married long distance. In summary, the long distance relationship is just hard. I have honestly learned a lot in my time dating long distance, so here are my Top Ten Tips for Dating Long Distance. Now, normally, when I make a list it is mostly jackassery, but for this I am going to try to be sincere.

Top Ten Tips for Dating Long Distance.

1. Have a good cell phone plan. Michelle and I went from calling cards using land lines when we were first dating, to cell phones with Facetime, texting, HeyTell, and the ability to send pictures. We got iPhones before I moved and it has been more expensive, but well worth it.

2. Don’t just talk about what you did that day. It is so easy to only talk about what went on during your day. Usually, these conversations are more factual and dry, and impossible to connect with. Michelle and I have to be deliberate in asking more questions. When we get together in real life we realize how many more details and feelings come out in our conversations.

3. Let the other one know you are thinking about them throughout the day, somehow, knowing the other person is just thinking about you means a lot.

4. Make the financial sacrifice to see each other in person often, it’s worth it.

5. Sometimes when you’re talking on the phone you’re just supposed to listen.

6. Know that when you see each other it is going to be more intense than a regular, everyday relationship. This means you will love it more than normal on the good visits, and it means that some visits will be extra awful, don’t freak out. That is just how it works long distance.

7. As much as is possible, establish when the finish line will be for the long distance. The ambiguity of not knowing when it will end can be excruciating.

8. Have bad days with it, allow yourself that.

9. Say the sappy things to each other that you normally filter out. Guys, once you say it a couple of times it gets easier.

10. Guys, send nude pictures of your bottom. Dang it, I couldn’t get through the list without a little jackassery.

Today, I watched an Iowa football game, which they won. Then, I worked, then I went to a gay party. It was my friend Aaron’s birthday, so he threw a party at his apartment. I don’t use the term ‘gay party’ haphazardly, I was actually the only straight male there, as confirmed by Aaron. To my more conservative friends wondering what a gay party is like, I will tell you, it is just like a regular party. The end.

 

Day 262. The Putting Yourself Out There Muscle

Thursday, November 10, 2011

I got a stress fracture my junior and senior year of high school. I was a cross country runner where I was an okay runner on amazing teams. I had started on the team my freshman year to get in shape for basketball season, which ultimately just got me in shape for sitting on the bench. I was ready if they ever needed someone to jog at a moderate pace for 20 minutes during a game, though. My coach, apparently, never saw the value in that. My freshman, sophomore, and junior year the cross country team won state. By my junior year I was getting closer as I was one of the better JV runners. Then, midway through the season I started having a sharp pain in my left shin that turned out to be more than a shin splint. I couldn’t go anymore. I went to the doctor and they told me I had a stress fracture. I was done for the season.

The next summer, I ran a lot. It was the summer before my senior year and I knew that it was my last chance. I wasn’t going to be the best guy on the team, but I was going to be one of the guys on varsity. I started out the season one spot away and I felt it was only a matter of time.

Then, I started feeling a pain in my left shin again, this time it was lower, but it didn’t hurt as much. Rather than run through it, I got it checked out before the first meet of the season, and once again, I had a stress fracture. I would be out about five weeks. All of that work seemed like it was for not.

Rather than stop, I decided that I could buckle down and work my way back. So, I would workout on my own once or twice a day doing low impact exercises. I would either ride a stationary bike in the basement, or I would go to the pool and run in the deep end using an aqua belt that kept me floating. I did it day in and day out, dedicating myself more than I had to anything at that point.

Finally, I was ready for my comeback. It was a home meet at Fairview Golf Course (which my grandparents managed, by the way). The course was three loops around the perimeter of the course. If my time in the JV race beat the last varsity runner for my team, I would make varsity. I was ready and pumped. I felt great. After the first loop, I was way out in front. Then, the second and third loops were still unfortunately required. I was gassed and quickly fell back to the pack. I don’t remember what I finished in the race, but it definitely wasn’t first. I stayed at about the same position the rest of the season. I never made varsity.

The biking and aqua jogging helped me, but they couldn’t quite match the daily “putting myself out there” on the road running. I needed the resistance and the pounding to get my muscles prepared. I could get myself close, but not quite there. I’m happy now for the experience because it was one of those hardworking formative experiences, but at the time, I was frustrated.

What I’ve realized now in going for my dreams in Hollywood is that just like quads, calfs, and hamstrings, “putting yourself out there” is a muscle that needs to be exercised as well. In a macro sense, I’m putting myself out there for the entirety of this experience just by living out here and doing all of this. At the same time, I go through periods where I’m putting myself out there, and I go through periods where I don’t for awhile.

What I find is that when I am consistently putting myself out there, I feel really comfortable putting myself out there for the next challenge. When I have gotten myself out of putting myself out there shape, the next challenge proves to feel really difficult.

When I am consistently putting myself out there, the challenge feels like I’m running. I can feel the air, and hear myself breathing, and feel confident in my ability to move through the space. When I’m not consistently putting myself out there and I confront the same challenge, I feel the pounding, and feel the uphills, and feel the plodding. Lately, I haven’t been putting myself out there, mostly because I’ve had to work and not make it to many auditions, so right now the idea of the next audition feels like an uphill. A few weeks ago felt different, when I read slam poetry, because it scared me a lot, and afterwards I was ready for the next thing. Recently, I performed at the Comedy Store, which used to be putting myself out there, but now felt very normal. Periodically, I just need reminders that I can conquer things that scare me, or I start to believe the fear.

I think this is true outside of Hollywood. In my old life, I was putting on new shows, and doing new things all the time, but they no longer felt like putting myself out there. I was getting settled and scared, which, in part, prompted me to do this. I needed to shake that feeling. Then, rather than go bungee jumping, or something, I blew my life up a little. Out of shape I arrived and started getting into putting myself out there shape really quickly, just like my old two-a-day cross country days.

Going forward, in whatever comes of all of this, I’ve realized that I need to exercise that putting myself out there muscle. I wonder if the confining stuckness people often feel in life isn’t so much a matter of circumstances, as it is an atrophy of the putting yourself out there muscle. I think the solution is to do something that scares you. Do something where, in the moments before it is your turn in this thing, you want to be anywhere other than where you are, where you berate yourself for ever agreeing to do this thing. Then, do it. Realize it’s not so bad and that you want to do it again. Do it again, and you’re exercising and getting into shape, and the confining stuckness feels like a feeling of the past.

Day 253. Taking Michelle to the Airport and Optimism

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

I had to drop Michelle off at the airport again. If someone was making us do this I would call them cruel, I don’t know what to say when it is our choice. We’ve had to say goodbye as the other went two time zones away seven times now this year.

We had lunch at a French place called Church and State, it is this great restaurant hidden amongst old warehouses. We were talking about what-ifs for us going forward and I realized something. For so long I had always assumed the negative when considering the future, but I heard myself telling Michelle, honestly, how I was sure things would work out. I’ve needed this experience to flip my view towards the future. Previously, I had felt the constraints of my life, more than I felt optimism. Michelle and I still have constraints, in some ways more, but I feel the optimism more than the constraints. This doesn’t mean that I don’t wake up a lot of mornings groggy freaking out about what is going to happen, it just means that optimism wins more often now.

Here is a good saying that I made up, but sounds like a quote from someone important.

I theorize about things when I ponder them,

I believe things when I see them,

I am convinced of things when I experience them.

I have found this to be true in so many different ways throughout this entire adventure. I like to theorize about different ideas and ideals a lot. Often times I will start to believe them in an intellectual sense, but I need to experience things to be convinced of them. I have to go through that progression. I feel like some people can be convinced of things about themselves by just believing them. You know, the people that seem to have irrational confidence. Maybe it’s an act, but it seems to me that some people will actually think, “I bet I can be a stand up comedian, I haven’t done it before, but, yeah, you know, I could definitely do that.” It’s irrelevant whether or not it plays out to be true, they are convinced of it. I’m not that way. I need the experience to be a convincer. Then, sometimes, I will slide backwards and need to be convinced again.

I’m convinced in footprints, not pathways.

I am convinced in what I have been through to this point to help lead me where I’m going, not the paths that were laid out by someone else. This is something that is practically true in my life, if I’m hiking, I can’t stay on the path, I have to go off of it and explore, I just have to. It’s the going off of the path in the dirt that creates footprints, which are what I need (Sidenote: I also always always get poison ivy as well.)

I’ve also been convinced through this adventure how much better things are with Michelle around, it’s as if marriage is meant to be lived together. Trust is probably the biggest thing that needs to be experienced to be convincing for me, and is probably the most important thing I’ve been experiencing on this adventure. I just trust that things will work out and Michelle and I will figure out what we should do next at each step, it helps keep the groggy freaking out at bay.

 

Day 249. Michelle Arrived and Saved my Tetris Game

Friday, October 28, 2011

You know what’s better than picking your wife up from the airport after not seeing her for six weeks? Nothing. It’s the best. 

There really isn’t much that can top it. Most of the time I actually don’t feel super sad missing her, I kind of shut it out. It’s when I am with her that I realize the extent to which I shut it out and how much I am lacking when she’s not around. It’s like I’m playing Tetris and I’ve been holding out for a long piece. Michelle is my long piece. It’s such a relief when the long piece finally arrives. Here is the long piece arriving. As you can see, I hit the down arrow when she arrived.

We had a great day. We came back, dumped her stuff off and then walked down to Blu Jam, our favorite little breakfast place. Then, we came back to the house and took an awesome nap. This is a feature of our times together since I can’t nap without her around for some reason. I woke up and didn’t remember where I was, which puts it at a solid 3, one level away from 4, where you wake up with a drool spot. We drove to Manhattan Beach to hang out. I hadn’t ever been there and was tired of Santa Monica, the closest beach. We saw dolphins and little kids with sunglasses on, two of the most joy inducing things out there.

Then we played catch with the frisbee. One of the best features of Michelle is her ability to throw a frisbee. I love frisbee, but I had always assumed I would be stuck in a frisbee-less marriage someday. I had resigned myself to the idea. Then came Michelle with her surprisingly strong wrist and I knew she was the one. Seriously, though, for whatever reason there was something soul satisfying about playing catch with the frisbee with my wife on the beach in the late afternoon.

As the sun was starting to set we grabbed a seat at a restaurant/bar with a view of the sunset and the World Series game. I have to say I was torn about the game, on the one hand I’m a lifelong Cubs fan, so I’m not supposed to like the Cardinals, on the other hand I have a lot of friends that are Cardinals fans, and I wanted them to be happy. I ended up being happy they won, I think. Go National League.

Our night kept chugging forward as we hopped in the car to drive to Santa Monica to celebrate the game with our friends Evan and Kerstin, who are big Cardinals fans (well, Evan is a big Cardinals fan and Kerstin is a big fan of being married to Evan). After our great day and evening in Los Angeles, we were reminded of the dark side of Los Angeles as we ended up in traffic on the God forsaken 405, moving nowhere. We called to cancel our rendezvous and drove home, which took an hour and a half.

Day 241. Ode to School Counselors

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Today, I filmed the courtroom show. I’m not going to reveal anything about it, I’m sure one of the papers I signed swore me to confidentiality, but after the show airs I will talk about it more. I will write a post soon so it is fresh, then post it after the show airs. The name of the show is We the People, with Judge Gloria Allred. Set your DVRs, they said it could air as early as next week, but probably after two weeks, and will be available on Netflix. Let’s just say it was awesome and my character was an angry man accused of breaking another man’s leg, and my “wife” had 1/12 the intellectual capacity of my real wife.

Michelle works as a school counselor and she shares stories with me all the time (obviously without using names). I can say with certainty that school counselors are vastly under appreciated, they’re the unsung heroes of the school. I would say that janitors are also unsung heroes, but are recognized as unsung heroes, which makes them sung, and, in turn, takes them out of the category of unsung heroes, leaving the school counselors as the real unsung heroes.

School counselors deal with scheduling students and angry parents and a lot of their jobs are administrative in that way, which makes them heroes based on that alone in my book because that sounds like a strange hell for a brain like mine. All of that stuff is great, but I’m not as concerned with that here.

What I mean is that so often Michelle, as school counselor is the only person in the kid’s life that listens to them, or the only person who has taken an interest in their well being, or is the first adult who cares for them as an individual. I only understand this as a concept because I was blessed with numerous adults in my life who cared about me, but that is not the reality for so many of these kids. Often it is the only unconditional love they have experienced.

Many times Michelle will be crushed with compassion for a kid who shares the tragedies of their life with her. It weighs on her somedays. Sometimes she is so upset that she couldn’t do anything to help a kid. Or, she’ll be upset that the tragedies, which can be random occurrences, and systemic tragedies created by numerous people over more than one generation are too deep to be fixed. But, I encourage her that I’m glad that the kid had her there at that moment, it may be the only bright spot in this tough time, or the only one they’ve known.

We spend most of our lives trying to avoid difficulty, both in our lives and others, but the school counselor drives towards it. They’re the ones that jump in. So many of the twelve year old kids that Michelle works with had more tough times in their lives than I’ve ever had, and she works in a fairly average town in a fairly average state. This is repeated over and over in schools across the country.

Michelle works with one girl who has real mental and emotional issues. She has been in and out of trouble with school, and has been harming her body in various ways. It has been very difficult for Michelle because the girl requires a lot of attention in the school and means that Michelle has to include a lot of different people so that the girl can make it through her school days. Just last week the girl gave her some small trinkety little gift. It wasn’t a big thing at all really, but it was a big deal for this particular girl to do something like that. That is how school counselors get paid.

I just admire the work that Michelle does so much and I get choked up when she tells me stories because I feel lucky that I am married to someone who makes the difference that she does. Michelle doesn’t realize that she is doing something so big because she’s in the middle of it, it takes reminding. I think that is what the rest of us can do is just remind the people who do this kind of work.

 

 

 

Day 240. Less Money Mo’ Problems

Wednesday, October 21, 2011

Every once in awhile I get reminded about how weird my situation is here. Actually, it happens quite a lot. I have a new normal in a lot of regards, and in others I am very aware of how I flipped my life upside down, and not normal. When I’m busy I tend to not think about it much, it’s more when I have time on my hands, or in the mornings, or when obstacles appear that would have just been ordinary part of life before, that now feel like bigger deals.

Michelle and I always thought we didn’t have money before, but now it’s actually true, the six months in LA without a job took it’s toll, and now I’m not exactly getting rich. Last week, Michelle found out that she had to get new tires and a new AC compressor for her car. Those are fairly normal repairs, and we would have been disappointed in our previous reality, but now it bites us quite more deeply. I really feel for people that have to live on the edge of having enough money, it is stressful. We have voluntarily put ourselves in this position while some people can’t see how to get out of it. It’s just weird wondering if the next thing will break you, it changes your approach to things. I feel like this year’s taxes are going to be a red flag to the IRS because of how much drastically less money I’ve made this year.

It goes with out saying that life apart is pretty difficult for Michelle and I. In this world that is both physically and ego exhausting, being apart is probably the most wearing. Luckily, she is coming out next week for a few days. It will be nice, we will be reminded about how when you get married you are supposed to spend a lot of time together. It’s fun to do exciting things together, but it’s more about doing the ordinary together, which we haven’t had for a long time and only poorly replicated it when we are together.

We realized the other day that we communicate with each other in a wide variety of ways now. We call, text, Facetime, e-mail, Facebook, Tweet, send pictures on text, send videos on text, use an app called Hey Tell, use another app called Instagram. Honestly though, the sum of those communication lines doesn’t beat sitting on the couch together.

Day 237. It All Started a Year Ago

Sunday, October 16, 2011

“The Mystery Year” really started a year ago this week. I looked it up, and I flew out to LA for a “research” trip from October 11th to the 15th last year. That’s when everything started, that’s when everything changed. 

I told work that I was going out to see friends, but really, I was going out to see if I would like living in LA. I had always liked the idea of it, but I didn’t know if I would like the reality of it. I don’t remember too much of the trip anymore because LA has all blurred together for me at this point.

Here are the highlights:

-I met a woman on the plane who worked for ‘Community’. I wrote about that here.

-I stayed at the house I’m staying at now. I can still remember the feeling of walking into the house late when I first arrived, now it’s really familiar.

-The woman from the plane, Catherine, invited me to see a table read for Community, that was a little surreal and awesome.

-And that’s all I remember. I know other things happened, but I can’t remember what happened during the first weeks I moved, and what happened on that trip.

What I do remember is the feeling that I took from the trip. Immediately, I knew that I couldn’t not try it out in some regard. I used to take forever with decisions, but sometimes you just know, and it isn’t really a decision anymore. I remember that feeling when I was ready to propose to Michelle too, and I was feeling it again. Mostly, I was terrified of the feeling, because I knew what the feeling meant for my reality. I came home and told Michelle I was feeling and we decided to sit with it for awhile.

“Awhile” didn’t change how I was feeling and we knew what was going to happen. Michelle was not up for the move, so we laid the groundwork for me to come out. That was such a weird time, I still had one foot in my daily life with one foot in the idea of Los Angeles. Mostly, I needed a place to stay in LA. I asked Ross if he could ask his parents if I could stay with them for awhile, like 2 or 3 months. I winced when I brought it up to him over the phone. After a few weeks, he got back to me and said that I could stay with them, but he didn’t say for how long (because it seemed like too long to ask about). Now, I’ve been with them for 8+ months. They are way too kind.

I then had to started start unwinding the life I hade knit together. In retrospect, everything seems linear and fairly easy, but, man, at the time it was excruciating. I had to tell my boss, my friend, Jeff, at the Skinny, my boss at 417 Magazine, and I had to announce the last Mystery Hour.

Now, here we are, a year later. What have I learned? Everything. Time has a way of taking the messy lives we have that sprout in every direction and laying them flat along an easy linear timeline. When we look back, we sometimes forget the uncertainty and the endless possibilities and just see the timeline. How we know that it has been more than a line is when we feel that it all began just yesterday, and feel that it all began a long time ago, it points to something more than the easy line. That’s how I feel.

Day 232. My Slam Poetry Premiere

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

When I was living in Michelle’s parents’ basement, I would love to watch Def Poetry Slam on HBO. I had never seen slam poetry before, and I just loved it. I went a few times to the local slam poetry night in Springfield and I had one of the better poets on The Mystery Hour once, too. I even wrote some of my own, but I was too nervous to read them at one of their slams. At one point, I read one at a small, local bookstore for their poetry night. You see, I’m used to being in front of people performing. I love it. I can’t get enough of it. However, I’m used to being funny in front of a crowd, I’m not used to being artistic, or sincere, or sad so much, it’s a whole different ballgame. If you’re in front of people doing something sincere, you’re sharing part of yourself that’s a little more tender, and that scares me more than doing comedy.

I never read at a slam poetry night in Springfield. Through some weird logic, I decided I could do it here though, because it scared me so much. At some point, I decided that if something scared me, then that was reason enough to do it. I’ve been to the poetry slam a couple times before and just loved it. I decided that I had to read a poem at it. Since I decided it and it scared me, I was going to be pissed at myself if I didn’t do it.

So tonight, I did it.

I told people I was going to do it so I would have people to be accountable to, then I got there early so I could sign up. The night is divided into two halves, and I didn’t get there in time to sign up for the first half, so I would have to do the second half of the show. The first half was awesome. I jumped to the sign up line when it was done and got signed up fourth. After that, I just wanted to bolt, get out of there. I’m no good at this. My poem rhymes, and they’re not supposed to rhyme. I could be in my room in 5 minutes.

But, I finally got called up and I read.

It is a poem I posted on here back in the spring, so I don’t mind showing it. I don’t know if it was great, or bad, I’m not an analyst like I am with my comedy, I was just happy to do it. I got a few snaps at one point, a “woo,” a “mmm hmmm,” and a “Wow” at the end, so that was pretty cool. This wasn’t quite a bucket list thing for me, it wasn’t that big, but it we’ll call it something on my Tupperware list.