Giving THanks

Spoiler alert: Tom Hanks did it for free.

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The Pain Squealer (aka Plain Dealer) did a story about the Tom Hanks video for the Cleveland Indians' name change to the Guardians. 

Unless you've lived under a rock all your life, as soon as you heard the voiceover on the video, you knew it was Tom. 

It was Woody. Josh. Forrest Gump. Mr. Rogers. Capt. Miller. Sam Baldwin. Chuck Noland. Jimmy Dugan. Ben Bradlee. Paul Edgecomb. Andrew Beckett. Jim Lovell. Carl Hanratty. Charlie Wilson. Robert Langdon. And yes, well, Kip/Buffy Wilson on Bosom Buddies. (Which I never watched, but want to include in case it brings back fond memories for anyone.)

I've always been a big Tom Hanks fan. You have to try really hard not to like the guy. Plus, he collects typewriters. And he wrote a book about them. Two thumbs up in my book.

Tom (I hope he doesn't mind if I call him "Tom") just strikes me as being one of the good guys. Like George Clooney. Keanu Reeves. Jimmy Stewart. 

I've read my share of biographies about famous folks. So many times I'm disappointed because some very talented people are a-holes in real life. You might try to justify their behavior by pointing out the amazing music or entertainment they've provided excuses them. 
I don't know about that. 

On the other hand, if someone put my life under a microscope, how would I fare? Thinking back on some of the things I've done that I'm not proud of, I'm kind of happy to be a nobody to the general populace of the world. If someone wanted to pick out certain aspects of my life and blow them up, they could make a case for me being a jerk.

Ah, the price of fame.

But I digress (as I often do). Back to Tom and the Guardians.
Tom was traveling in Greece with his family when he was asked to do the voiceover for the video. He said he'd try reading the script on his phone. He also offered to go into the studio to record it. Turns out, he did such a nice job on his phone, he didn't need to.  

As a writer, I can only imagine the kick the writer got out of Tom reading her copy. Also, as I writer, I feel compelled to give credit here to Tara Hewit, the Indians Asst. Director for Content and Entertainment Strategy. Nice job, Tara!*

Suddenly, I'm getting a hankering to watch Sleepless in Seattle. 
"Hankering." See what I did there?

Hope I don't piss off Tom. He seems to have a pretty good sense of humor. Also, I've said a bunch of nice things about him. 

Are we cool, Tom?

*Not to slight anyone, the video portion was produced by Steve Asbury. Nick Gambone, Asst. Director of Creative Production, arranged the visuals.

Another Year

So, here we are. Since last week, I added another number to my age. It's no big deal, really. At least I'm on this side of the ground.

Admittedly, I was a little miffed the Indians decided to announce their name change on my birthday. It's causing quite the kerfuffle, and while I personally think The Guardians is a fine name, there are a lot of folks who don't agree. (Sorry, boss.)

Also, I learned on my birthday that one of my new coworkers is leaving. Fine, Justin. Go ahead and pursue a better opportunity. Sheesh. Be that way. (Seriously, I wish him well, but I still feel bad because our team will really miss him.)

As things generally happen in threes, I was waiting for another dramatic announcement from somewhere. Thankfully, the rest of the day was quiet. 

Mr. Ginley and I walked up to our local haunt, something we haven't done since pre-pandemic. We had drinks and noshes, and it was nice. My margarita was the first in a long while, and it was tasty. The eats were okay, but I think we both realized our every-Friday-night routine will not resume. Given my new job situation, I don't feel the need for that weekly wind-down like I did in the final days of my old full-time gig.

Thanks to all of you who sent along natal day wishes. And a "Happy Anniversary" shout-out to my sister, who got married on my birthday a bunch of years ago. 

They say a birthday is just a number. And while I wish mine was a little lower, I'll take it just the same. Creaky bones aside, I feel pretty good for this stage of the game.

I may not have a mansion or a Mazeratti or gold records on the wall. I don't go to parties, sometimes until 4. No worries about handling fortune and fame.

Still, life's been good to me so far... 

Being Like Katie

Normally my New York Times morning newsletter is about Covid. Or politics. Or climate change.

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The other day, the newsletter featured Katie Moser. And now, I can't get that article out of my head.

Fifteen years ago, Katie knew she had genetic predisposition to Huntington's Disease. She wanted to find out if she was going to get it.

She was 25 years old. Testing revealed she had the gene and will begin to show symptoms by the time she's 50.

Not one to sit back and cry in her beer, Katie set out to live to the fullest. She travelled when she wanted to, never holding back and saying, "I'll do that next year." Because she knew next year she might not be able to. 

At one point, Katie wanted to have a child, going so far as to plan artificial insemination with a donated embryo. There were three possible embryos. All three had the gene for Huntington's. Becoming a parent wasn't in the cards for her.

July 14th was Katie's 40th birthday, a date she shares with Woody Guthrie, who died of Huntington's at the age of 55.

Katie is wonder, and she made me think about my own path. 

Would I have wanted to know my life was going to be cut short? Would I have seized the day, as Katie did or would the knowledge have crushed me? What in my life would I have done differently?

I am guilty of getting hung up on the day-to-day dramas of life, and they often consume me.  Stupid human things. Worries about the car or work or paying bills or what to make for dinner. Sulking over the abundance of rain this week.

I don't have the itch (or the scratch) to do a lot of traveling. But I could take some time for myself. Spend a few hours in the park, watching birds. Take a long walk around the neighborhood. Or watch a chick flick. I did all of these things in abundance, years ago, before I got bogged down with all the crap. 

Maybe it's time to get in touch with that Barb again.

That's the funny thing about people like Katie Moser. They don't really know how many others they touch and inspire.

Thanks, Katie. I wish you well.

Return to the Improbability

I've been taken lately with puffins. I don't know why, perhaps because they're so stinkin' cute.

In a fiction tale I've been reading, the protagonist finds a wounded puffin and takes him home. The vet advises her to return the bird to the flock once his wounds are healed. 

A puffin being separated from the rest of his improbability (which is what a group of puffins is called) started me thinking about the past week. And the 24 months preceding it.

As most of you know, I was "separated" from my job of 25+ years in 2019. Since then, I've been looking for full-time employment in my field with little success. Initially, I didn't make the cut because no one believed I could write about anything but jewelry. 

Fortunately, a friend brokered a gig with a small company that does website design. I was able to write web content, learning a little something about SEO along the way, and thus boost my experience. 

Then Covid came along. And, well, you all know what that was like.

Thankfully, Axel took me in and let me work at Enjoy Again, where I learned to convert video tapes to DVD and MP4 files. This was a godsend, enabling Mr. Ginley and me to enjoy all the luxuries of life, like eating, keeping warm, making car payments, etc. In my time with Axel, I learned not only how to convert old media, but to fix broken VHS tapes and get fussy equipment to work (yes, I talked to them).

Also, I saw people's memories flash by in the form of births (not my favorite), school plays, sporting events, concerts, Christmases, First Communions, Disney vacations and a few Bar Mitzvahs. It was a great experience, and I'm thankful to Axel for the opportunity. Also, I will miss working at the ranch, although I won't miss some of the wildlife. (When he told me one day, "I don't know where the mouse went," I had to consider whether he meant the furry variety or the computer device.) 

Axel's been a great boss. I will miss the beer, the ice cream treats and the Friday evening German bar song. 

Meanwhile, in the past few months, with the easing of Covid restrictions, more jobs started popping up. One of those was from OuterBox, looking for an SEO Content Writer. The interview I had with them was the first I'd had where I said, "I really, really want to work there."

I started this week. And it's been great. 

Returning to the puffin thing (I know you were wondering), joining OuterBox feels like coming home. It's great to be writing full-time again. And there is so much energy, intelligence and quick wit among my coworkers. 

I really missed engaging with other creative writers, and I can't tell you how much I am enjoying the experience. And hanging with others who appreciate my sense of snark. Although I don't know much about gaming or modern music, I like listening in.

It's great to be part of the improbability once again.

Progress Shmogress

I was toodling through a book from the library called Midcentury Kitchens, when it occurred to me.

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Where are all those space age appliances we were supposed to have by now? I mean, my ideal growing up was Jane Jetson, who just pushed a few buttons, and voila, out came dinner. I feel cheated somehow. And don't get me started on Rosie the Robot. Alexa/Siri? Not even close. 

So, where have all the innovators gone? Sure, we have spiffy electronic devices that have gotten more sophisticated over the years. But what about my kitchen? Why did we stop at the microwave?

As I work to throw together dinner in quicktime, it occurs to me I'm no better off than my mom. It takes us the same amount of time to cook stuff. The microwave speeds up some things. But it's not a life changer.

The same with cleaning and laundry and other household chores. You can buy a Roomba, I suppose. They have the added advantage of being a carnival ride for cats (according to the internet). But I wonder just how good a job they do. How does a round appliance get in corners, for example? Do all your nooks and crannies end up crammed with the cat fur your Roomba can't reach?

This was supposed to be the age of better technology and more leisure time, but frankly, I'm not seeing it. Sure, I can shop from my couch, but I still have to get off it if I want to eat or fetch something. 

Going back to my book, I see all the promise of a new space age. Alas, here we are. 

So I have to ask the question, where is that American ingenuity we used to brag about? 

Alas, I guess I'll just have to get used to my kitchen of yesteryear. 

And be thankful I have no appliances in avocado green. That's one trend from the last century I was happy to skip.