The Idea Man

WE DO WHAT WE CAN.

I realize, and reluctantly admit, I can't do a lot things I used to do. Age has a way of sneaking in and stealing our capabilities. But here's something cool--age also brings us new stuff and opportunities, like: the benefits of experience, richer insights, depth of relationships, a pace that allows us to be more observant, to drink a little deeper from the cup of life.

I wanted to find something credible to back me up on this idea of us "mature" dudes having an essence that makes us vital in a very significant way. So I searched the ancient scriptures and found Joel 2:28, which basically says that while the young girls and guys get to prophesy and have visions, us old guys get to dream the dreams. What would the world be without the dreamers?"

You know that color that has always been known as "baby blue"? The color for little boys? Well, I am hereby announcing the official color for us Men Of A Certain Age (drum roll; trumpet herald): COBALT BLUE! Be careful about making assumptions about cobalt blue when you see a just printed sample of it. You really have to see it in glass, porcelain, watercolor, etc. to get a real sense of the depth and mystery of this color. Same for us older guys. Over time, that baby blue has become much deeper with a certain mystique about it.

So what brought on this defense of aging, or as I like to call it: living the Second-Coming-Of-Age?

Kathleen The Muse

If you've followed this blog for awhile, you've heard me mention my muse, Kathleen. Kathleen and her sister are owners of an amazing business called Braid Creative. As a service of their company they broadcast an e-letter with helpful tips and inspiration for young, creative entrepreneurs. I will readily admit that I am neither young nor entrepreneurial, but occasionally I feel creative, but can I call myself creative?

As I've said before, Kathleen as a muse can be very challenging--in a good way. With her, you don't get by with anything. You can only do so much talking before she begins to expect results. This blog, About Pops, for what it's worth, wouldn't exist if it weren't for her challenge to me.

Anyway, a few days ago, she sent this e-letter (I've edited it some): 

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HAVING A GOOD IDEA IS NOT ENOUGH | from Kathleen Shannon

You all know that Tara and I are sisters, right? Well, our dad often tries to make a bid for a position in our family business as our “idea man”. He outlines his job description as having a space in the corner of our office with a single bare light bulb and chain hanging above his elementary school-style desk. He might have a pen and yellow legal pad for notes and sketches. Any time he has an idea he pulls the chain, turns on the light bulb, and declares his idea – it might be an idea for our own business or an idea for our branding clients. Then it’s our responsibility to capture his ideas and do what we will with them. 

As ridiculous as this may sound a lot of aspiring creatives and young freelancers have the same dream job as our dad. They’re so great at coming up with good ideas they basically want their job title to be “idea guy”. But having a good idea is not enough, because guess what? Most people have good ideas – what makes a creative stand out from most people is their ability to make it real. Sitting in the corner of a room with a light bulb hanging above your head does not make you creative. Being able to bring the idea into the world as an actual service, offering, or product is what makes you creative. (Sorry, dad!) 

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See what I mean? When it comes to muse-like encouragement and inspiration, she cuts even her dad no slack. But a few days later, overcome with pity, remorse, or something, she sent this (somewhat edited):

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I’M NOT A CREATIVE… | from Kathleen Shannon

A couple weeks ago I sent out an email saying that just because you have ideas does not make you a creative. That being creative means you’re able to take action on your ideas to make them real. I used my dad’s dream job as our “idea man” as an example and you guys… I really hurt his feelings.

So it was a Friday afternoon, just after I had sent out that letter proclaiming that having a good idea is not enough, and I was hanging out with my sister after work. My parents stopped to pick up my sister’s kids for the night and my dad comes in the house with a big frown and sideways glare in my direction. He also had a bloodshot eye which made the whole thing that much more intimidating. He gruffed at me, “I never said I was ‘A Creative.’ I never said that.” 

And then I felt like a terrible person. While I was kind of just poking fun at his expense and obviously didn’t mean harm, I realized I had made a big mistake. 

Because the truth is… Everyone is creative. It’s just another label that either you identify with or you don’t. My dad is truly brilliant. He’s kind of a big deal at his government job in air quality and has his masters degree from the University of Hawaii in earth science. But beyond that he tells really funny stories and writes limericks for his retiring buddies. He makes a mean deviled ham and eggs on toast. He is a state champion at catching bass and can remember where the fish are biting at lakes he hasn’t been to for years. If that’s not creative, I don’t know what is.

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Yes Kathleen, sometimes you have to look deeper and longer at us cobalt blue guys, but it's worth it.

So maybe on the surface we look like whimsical old relics, living off the stories of our virile youth years. But as I said, the scriptures promise us the dreamer role--the Idea Men; "So we've got that going for us, which is nice."

Recognize that line? It's a classic from one of our Second-Coming-Of-Age brothers: Carl Spackler (played by Bill Murray in the film treasure, Caddyshack).

Here's the text and the clip from the film. 

Carl Spackler: So I jump ship in Hong Kong and I make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas.
Angie D'Annunzio: A looper?
Carl Spackler: A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I'm a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald... striking. So, I'm on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one - big hitter, the Lama - long, into a ten-thousand foot crevasse, right at the base of this glacier. Do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga... gunga, gunga-lagunga. So we finish the eighteenth and he's gonna stiff me. And I say, "Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know." And he says, "Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness." So I got that goin' for me, which is nice.

And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions. Joel 2:28.

About Time

RECENTLY MY AMAZING-MISSUS AND I SAW ABOUT TIME, a new film by Richard Curtis. We're big fans of his films. Judging by the fact that we were two of about six people in the theatre, not enough people saw it. I hope you were one of them.

If not, raise your right hand and repeat after me: "I promise I will rent and watch About Time as soon as it's available."
[Note to all the "Pops" out there: the DVD release date of About Time is February 4, 2014. It could be a smart thing to get it and watch it with your significant other(s).]

I am fascinated by time. It's mysterious and precious. It is the basic rhythm of our lives and we need rhythm. Let that little ticker in the center of your chest stop and see what I mean. Check out my post on the autumnal equinox (it's better than it sounds). 

Time is weird. We talk about "saving" time, but we know we can't. Try stuffing a few hours in a piggy bank and you'll find out those hours aren't there when you go back to get them. You can't even get back the time you spent pondering how fast the time goes.

Each year for the past three we've taken our oldest grand-girl, Karlee, to see The Nutcracker. I was looking at the photos I took of her next to the nutcracker at age four and this year at five. I commented that before long she would be able to look him in the eye. And then I thought, "NO! Slow this all down."

Karlee at 3,4 & 5.

We have a friend named Traci. She is originally from Keyes, Oklahoma. Traci is one of those people that when you spend time with them you feel like a better person and that the world is a better place. She has a sort of eternal youthfulness. I think I've figured out why. 

If you're in Keyes, Oklahoma, Traci's hometown, you can jump in the car (or more likely, the pickup), drive an hour, then check your watch. You will find it is the same time as when you left. Really. It's like the hour didn't pass. Maybe Traci did that--a lot.

Saturday, December 21st is the Winter Solstice. If you live, as I do, in the Northern Hemisphere, it is the shortest day of the year. Well, that's not exactly right. It will have 24 hours just like all of our other days. It's just that more of those 24 will  be dark than any other day of the year. So if you're a bat or vampire, this is your day.

What makes something timeless--not affected by the passage of time or changes in fashion?

To me, many stories are timeless like To Kill A Mockingbird. But I don't know why. Songs like: Bridge Over Troubled Waters, Amazing Grace, and Silent Night are timeless; but why?

I don't need to be timeless, but I do want to make the most of the time. I once told my muse, Kathleen, that one of the words and realities I hate most is squander. Squandering is as ugly as it sounds.

I wouldn't mind living long, but when it comes to death, I agree with Woody Allen: "I'm not afraid of dying, I just don't want to be there when it happens."

A couple of years ago, I had a surgical procedure. I guess it was sort of elective--it's not like I had a heart attack or anything. During the surgery, they stopped my heart. I don't know for how long, but it seems to me that I shouldn't have to count that time. Right?

It's kind of like Traci from Keyes. By now, you no doubt have figured that puzzle out. If not, Keyes is out toward the end of the Oklahoma Panhandle. If you drive west from Keyes for about 50 miles you go from the Central Time Zone to the Mountain Time Zone where it is an hour earlier.

From here you can be in New Mexico, Texas, Colorado, or Kansas in less than an hour.

Maybe it's just that in places like Keyes, Oklahoma, time moves more slowly. Traci is the only person I know from Keyes, but if folks out there are anything like her, they laugh more, they live in the moment a little more, they don't squander time or friendships.

So Saturday at sunset maybe we'll raise a glass to the Winter Solstice. Do it early though: night is coming fast--literally and proverbially. So let's make a toast to timelessness. And whatever you do, slow down and savor, don't squander.

Be A Mentor Or Add A Swimsuit Issue

Polyhumnia, the Muse of sacred poetry, 

Let's be clear: I am not pretending to understand women much less feminism. Heck, I don't even claim to understand myself. So don't read into this more than is there.

This blog is in its infancy. I hope it grows up to be something worthwhile. Even though it's early, I'm afraid I may be seeing a fear confirmed. I was afraid that my target audience, 50 to 60-something men, might not be, to a large extent, blog readers. So I either need to add a swimsuit edition or quit calling it a blog, or quit worrying about whether anyone in particular reads it. Because in reality, at least for now, it's largely a therapeutic experiment for me.

Why do I assume About-POPS is not being read by its target? At this point we've been fortunate to have an encouraging number of subscribers and followers (I use that word in the virtual world sense and not in the sense that anyone truly sees me as their Leader), but most of these are not past-mid-age, and in fact most are not even men (in the literal sense; not as if I'm calling them pansies or something).

Let me give you an example. This is from an email subscription we received:

"I'm not a 50-60 year old male, but I'm a lady in my twenties that appreciates the wisdom you pass along!" -- Brooke

You need to know this, I know this girl and she is an amazing young lady, and for her to say to me essentially that she anticipates some wisdom here is humbling and encouraging because I know that Brooke is a discerning soul. She knows wisdom when she sees it. So, to you Brooke, I will do my best.

I hope all of that doesn't sound pretentious or even worse, somehow superior.

I have a friend named Kathleen. Kathleen can be very challenging and I mean that in a very good way. I remember one of the early meetings I had with her. We left the coffee house, she walked to her older VW® and I to my newer Volvo®. She commented on my car and said that would love to have something newer but guessed that she would drive her VW until it died. I told her that I planned to drive my Volvo until I died. I meant that to be more of a statement of the longevity of Volvos than a prophecy of my own demise. Kathleen laughed at my morbidity.

I should tell you that Kathleen is a wonderfully creative person, who has made me better; more courageous in many ways. Once in a discussion she asked me what I was afraid of. I told her that I was afraid I had squandered opportunities and maybe resources. I told her how I consider even the word squander to be one of the ugliest words in our language and that I so hoped I would not squander my days now.

Once I suggested to Kathleen that I could be a mentor to her and she could be a muse to me. (You need to understand that all of this is healthy. Don't try to read something weird in to it.) As soon as the words left my mouth, I thought, "Who do you think your are to offer to be a mentor to anyone."

But I hope in some way I can be -- to Brooke, to Kathleen, to my family… And I hope that doesn't come across as condescending. I'm willing to earn the opportunity.

I think I have found the qualifier in Jane Eyre's words to Mr. Rochester:

“I do not think, sir, you have any right to command me, merely because you are older than I, or because you have seen more of the world than I have; your claim to superiority depends on the use you have made of your time and experience.” Jane Eyre

My interpretation of that: squanderers don't get to be mentors.

By the way, if you would like to meet Kathleen, you can see her blog here: http://andkathleen.com