Confessions of a Human Nerve Ending

Disclaimer: I’m not invested in securing tenure at a university, yet I do feel that my time working on my Master’s in Rhetoric was worthwhile. While my job as a mid-level manager at a community college doesn’t require that level of education, expending the effort to work full time and study was a way to stay engaged and keep my brain active. Background: I developed a sort of discipline that sitting in front of a computer most days rewards. I read a lot; I watch documentary films and various YouTube clips a lot. And as I sort of meandered my way through understanding the larger world as presented to me via the web, I, as predicted or delivered by the  algorithm on YouTube , became exposed to a broader variety of opinions ( Jordan Peterson, Sam Harris, The Ruben Report, Bret Weinstein ) than my online circle of poet and progressive friends held or posted about on other social media platforms. It lead me to the NYTimes piece on the  Intellectual Dark Web . From the...

Overview:   In June, around the Summer Solstice, my wife, my dog, and I set out to hike the Albuquerque Bosque from end to end over two days .  It was well over a hundred degrees and after starting later than expected we didn't make it as far the first day as we hoped.  But we did make it. Now, three months later, around the Autumnal Equinox, we set out to do it again.  Our route was slightly different and, with the weather being a lot more pleasant, broke the day into a thirteen mile day and a five mile day:  eighteen total miles from Valle de Oro National Wildlife Refuge to the Alameda Bridge right on the border between Albuquerque and Corrales. The things we wanted to do differently this time were pretty straightforward:  1) don't get lost at the south terminus and get into the bosque sooner, and 2) walk even more on the westside.  So, the route was a follows:  we'd walk on the east side from Valle de Oro to the Rio Bravo Bridge, cro...

One My grandfather was a champion. Two Though he probably mastered his technique on the Scottish Highlands before coming to the states, he had an arm. Three. Had it been a different time he might’ve been a baseball star, but this was war and a newly adopted country, so he became a soldier. One He became an infantryman when they noticed how his hands were rather large. Two With just a few short practices they noticed that he threw where he was looking: accurate, landing the grenade in the zone almost every single time. Three Until he was deployed he was entered into contests:   a champion grenade thrower and his platoon took every prize. One As a member of a bombing party he’d run from trench to trench and throw grenades. Two After the trench was cleared they’d drink water, smoke cigarettes, rearrange their gear. Three On to the next, clearing them with precision throws as they went. One When you throw a grenade, you count...

Life is about listening.   Sometimes what life is saying comes at you in in strange ways.   On Friday, I was reading this story on Salon.com and it mentioned that few jazz musicians have the same clout as they once did.  Of the few who still draw considerable audiences, it mentioned Keith Jarrett .   I don't know Keith Jarrett, but I've been trying to school myself on jazz for the better part of a year now.   Since I'm relatively new to this jazz thing, I want to make sure I'm really listening to what people think of as "great."   With that in mind, I bought a book:   The Penguin Guide to Jazz Recordings .   Under Keith Jarrett they mention the album,  The Koln Concert as his best album (part of any enthusiasts' "Core Collection").   So, when I saw the album while perusing Mecca Records in ABQ, I knew I had to buy it.   Life was talking. The Koln Concert  (So, go ahead and ...