Author Archives: Kyle Kimberlin

Bright and Early

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It was early for me to be up on a Sunday. I usually set the alarm for 8:00 on Sunday, earlier on other days. But today I’ve been up since 5:30; I’ve been awake since 4:48am. This is because some inconsiderate moron drove a loud sports car into the alley between the condo buildings of the complex where I live, stopped right outside my bedroom window, left his loud car running, and did some sort of business with a neighbor. Maybe he was delivering something, I don’t know. I just saw him walking away from the building, talking on his phone, getting back in the car and driving away. I could still here the engine from a great distance, because it had very distinctive rising and falling sound, as opposed to a steady idle.

Strangely, the idiot in question has to go out of his way to get into this private driveway. My condo is the only one in this building that faces the private alley; the others face a public street. That’s where the baboon should be driving his noisy car.

This has happened daily for maybe a week, though this was the first time I was unable to go back to sleep. I tried to descend back into rest by playing my nature sounds CD, a woodland river, which usually helps me sleep. But it was futile. And I know that since I stayed up to watch a movie, went to bed at 12:30, and to sleep at 1:00am, I’ll be tired now all day long.

I don’t mind getting up bright and early, if I’m expecting it. It’s fun to get up before dawn and go fishing, or open Christmas presents, or take a trip with family. But this ain’t that, and it’s not cool. 

Obviously, I’m annoyed. I’m not going to put up with this. There’s gonna be a roshambo dialogue .  Later, when the sun is up and warm. It is the Sabbath after all, and I’m a civilized person. 

Born to be Addled

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Addled sounds a little like wild, doesn’t it? That’s what I was going for. It’s not easy to put a clear title on one’s ruminations on the topic of abject confusion, my least favorite state of mind.

I don’t drink, you know. Very rarely and never if I’m going to be driving. That’s my rule. But the underlying reason is not simply fear of disaster and felony charges. It’s not that I think alcohol is inherently evil, though it  certainly has been the instrument of nearly infinite human suffering. Responsible drinking by healthy adults is OK with me, just not generally OK for me. And not because it’s fattening and expensive, although that’s also true.

I don’t drink because it clouds the mind, obscures the consciousness. One of my main goals on any given day is to go forth seeking clarity. And my poor brain is just about as fuzzy now as I want it to be.

No no no no I don’t … no more. 
I’m tired of waking up on the floor.
— Ringo Star (youtube)

Case in pitiful point: A few days ago, I was obliviously shopping in the nearest Trader Joe’s. As I reached up for some cans of tuna, someone behind me spoke my name. I turned and shook hands, exchanged greetings, with a man whose face was very familiar. But I couldn’t place it.

My little brain jumped through the usual lists: work, church, writers’ groups, civic, condo association, etc. Finally I had to give up and admit I needed his help.

It turned out to be a man who has lived with his family across the street and one house down from my parents, for roughly the last 3 decades. I’ve stopped and spoken with him before, and seen him from a distance maybe a thousand times.

I was embarrassed. I blathered some stupid remark about being used to seeing him from a distance, complimented recent improvements to his front yard, etc. He was cordial and did not kick my ass right there amongst the produce, as much as I had it coming. But everyone wants to be recognized. Otherwise, it is far too easy to feel too lightly valued by others.

The thing is, I do value other people. I care and I really want to see people and know them and be friendly and inclusive. And I’ve heard other people over the years say things like, “I’m terrible with names.” This makes no sense to me. You’d think that the ability to recognize faces and identify known individuals would be systemic, universal to the evolution of our species. Otherwise, how would our kind spot enemies and friends and survive in a potentially hostile world?

There is a world of difference between momentary failure to recognize someone – the sin I’m confessing – and forgetting them altogether, which I hope I never do. I mean regarding others with indifference.

“The opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it’s indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it’s indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it’s indifference.”
– Elie Wiesel

This past spring, I heard my name called by another person who recognized me. I turned and recognized an old friend, whom I had not heard from in 12 years. I had assumed that she moved away and her life changed and so it goes. But she’d been living here in this very small town, where my number is in the book. She’d never bothered to call, that’s all. But we were glad to see each other, talked for a while, and agreed to email and to meet for coffee. She said she was moving away in a few months.

I emailed her a week or two later, as promised. She replied saying a few weeks later would be better to meet, so let’s connect again. I emailed again in that time, but have heard nothing since. Three more months have come and gone and maybe she’s gone too, maybe not. In any case, that’s indifference.

It’s important that we know the ones we know. They matter. And nobody wants to disappear.

C‘est la vie.

I guess I could Google how to improve your memory for faces or something. I’m sure there are tips and tricks abounding. Not the point. It’s perplexing that I don’t already have a reliable app for that.

Chatting over the bananas in Trader Joe’s, these lines of T.S. Eliot came to mind, as they often have over the years:

Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. 

— Ash Wednesday

New Blogger Revisited

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I haven’t been posting much lately. You’ve noticed, right? Nobody’s complaining though. We’re all busy and distracted, preoccupied. For me, I’ve been feeling a little unfocused. Literally. I’ll be getting some new reading glasses soon, which should help.

Another thing that might help is this new Blogger interface. They’ve updated the whole thing again, and I have to say it’s quite an improvement. It looks like this:

 Click to Enlarge

Pretty cool, huh? I’ve been using Microsoft’s Windows Live Writer 2011 this year, and it’s excellent. But the main reason I wasn’t using Blogger’s own interface – the single most annoying thing about it – was a problem inserting a break at the end of a paragraph. I wrote about that here.

I’m not seeing that problem anymore, which means I’ll probably go back to using Blogger’s own interface to compose my blog posts. This is good, because draft posts are saved online. Windows Live Writer saves drafts on the local hard drive, so that one must return to the same computer to complete them. Not a big deal, but sometimes it’s nice to go work somewhere else.

Speaking of somewhere else, I think that’s where I need to go in search of new content for you to read. It’s a nice day, I’ve had my coffee, and it’s time to get outdoors. I’m not Marcel Proust, and don’t want to be.

OBE

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I used to work at a company where some of the guys in engineering and tech pubs (my department) frequently went to lunch with people from nearby companies. The reasons aren’t important, but it was a cool community of friends.

One day we got an email from one of the group saying he couldn’t make it to lunch. He said, “OBE.” The next time I saw him, I asked what those letters meant. He said, “Overcome By Events.” I thought that was pretty funny, because when I was studying metaphysics in college OBE was the abbreviation for “Out of Body Experience.” (Yep, my minor in philosophy included coursework in topics such as telekinesis, bilocation and astral projection. It was a hoot.)

Separation of the cognitive from the corporeal is not what’s been keeping me from blogging. I’ve been overcome by events. Busy. Distracted. So it goes. I’ll try to settle down now and think of something to post, something for us to think about.

Have you ever felt that you are not yourself, or not in yourself? It’s possible, don’t you think? Apocryphal teachings of the Christian Church include tales of pious people who were in two places at the same time, or who traveled great distances at impossible speeds, without vehicles. Such are supernatural events, and it’s hard to believe in God and dismiss the paranormal. And if we accept that our bodies are ours but we are not in them, or that we transcend them at death, then perhaps we can transcend them in life as well.

Anyway, like I said, I’ll sit down soon and try to think of something for us to ponder.

Peace. Kyle out.

never forget

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“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.”
– Maya Angelou

Kyle says how people make you feel is up to you. There is no property of human action which invests in it the ability to effect the chemistry of your brain. … You thought "never forget" was going to have something to do with 9/11, didn't you? And how did that make you feel?

O Shenandoah

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The venerable 61-year-old literary review of Washington & Lee University is now entirely online and free.

http://shenandoahliterary.org/

I commend Shenandoah for the decision to end print publication. Although I like getting literature inked into a codex transportable away from this eye-straining technology; though I enjoy taking a good book out into the real world with me, perhaps to read beneath a tree, nobody can afford to subscribe to everything. And I didn’t subscribe to this. Now they can reach Kyle in California, and presumably a wider audience worldwide.

Let’s wish them luck, is my meaning.

I have a song among my possibles fitting to the topic. Click here to listen to Jerry Garcia singing Shenandoah Lullaby, with David Dawg Grisman on mandolin. Good stuff, Maynard.