love:"of literacy" #magicofstorytelling

The outcome of caring people who care about
kids, literacy and the future!

Giving a child a love of reading will hardwire them to think critically, love more deeply, and see life as the precious gift that it is.  Literacy inspires us to reach beyond to think further than the bubble of our day to day.  At its best it connects us and allows us to share things in a way that the sheen of other media falls short.

If you see an uptick on this message its because of http://www.abcbeinspired.com/magic-of-storytelling/ - where adding the hashtag #magicofstorytelling will assure a new book gets to a child and inspire them to reach beyond.

My son and I are blessed to have helped set up 49,300 books last Friday as part of First Book and Disney at the Lafayette Rec Center in LA.  It was a grueling 3 hours, but with dozens of VoluntEARS, we were able to offload 27 palettes of new books.  The idea is for the kids to create their own personal libraries.

No matter who you are or what stage of life, inspire others to read around you.  If you can, consider charities that strengthen the love of literacy to others.

There's nothing like a book.

abstract:"The Tumbled Sapphire"

Straight mattered little anymore.  As a child, much time spent in keeping the horizon horizontal.  Now, lines blurred, shifted in weight, were smooth, hyperbolic.  I found, after decades of dealing with it, that allowing real life to spin, at its own course was more desirable.  Nausea melted away over time and I got used to spinning in my own grey-lighted space.

The only thing that would soothe me from this was when the fall carnival would come.  The sheen of rides, reflecting the lights.  The lights.  The steady cacophony of light would stir me and calm me.  I waited until sundown and sat and was allowed to.  No one came to look after me then, they knew where I was like they knew where the same steady statue of Barnaby Closet stood each day in the middle of the town square.

It was in my fifteenth year, at the festival, that I would meet Charlie.  She came to talk to me.  I don't remember even having a 'hey' at festivals before.  She sat right down and I felt at ease where I normally would have had the urge to sweat and run.  And run until I could no longer and the sweat would cool.  I would lay on wet long grass, near the highway.  Creepies loved the salt from the sweat and come from all over.  Especially the small black slugs.  They were faster than you could imagine, I bet.

http://sorenpihlmann.com/Abstract-Sketches

Charlie has sandy blond hair and dark green eyes.  She if very friendly with me, but she says little when others are around.

We talked for the week and her, and the festival, disappeared through Thanksgiving.

I would do well for a spell.  Then it would all return.  The black, the grey.  Like giant orbs, they would sneak like the sun over the forest and find me.  And it would take me a time of laying down in my room for a few days to allow it fulfill itself.

No more pills I told myself, but I kept the phial within eyesight.  If the man would return.  The shadow man.  He had stayed away, but I don't know how long now.  He felt the furthest away when Charlie was around.  I longed for her.  I imagined her sitting next to me and I would feel better.  She had dark green eyes.

I stayed out late one night.  A night where I had lost myself in a horror comic book at Jacie's.  It had skulls and blood.  I put the comic page so close to my eye I could see the little red and pink dots that made up the spill of death.

Kelsey was getting tired of me, I know.  He just shot me dark looks when I made eye contact with him.  "You're not right, Park.  Go home."

The night felt like a netting coming down upon me.  The streetlights gave me comfort, but of course, only for a little while.  There was as stretch of two miles that had no lights.  Only the sky, of the darkest blue, had light.  The darkness choked me.

Then, in the shadow ahead, I saw him blocking me.  The shadow man.  He melted in and out, but his shape was there.  I know that if I were to fight him, he would win.  So I sat.  I sat on the highway and coldness came, along with the overnight dew.

I braved another glance ahead.  The shadow man was there, but, in the mash of dark, a light figure appeared.  She had grey jeans and white tennies.  A white, thickly woven sweater.  Charlie.  She came and pulled me from the asphalt.  She walked with me and didn't say a word.  She only looked straight ahead.  I had left the light on from this morning.  It was still on when I came home.

anniversary:"Pride and Prejudice" 28JAN1813

Wikipedia has Pride and Prejudice published upon two dates, but the common appears to be 28JAN in 1813 (where the printing date for the hardcover was the day prior).  And, for poor Ms. Austen, she was not given proper credit on the book, instead given "By the author of Sense and Sensibility" (and for that book, By a Lady).  Ugh.  Perhaps it is a modern sensibility that would think otherwise, but, perhaps there is respect in calling her a lady, in the least.

And, though difficult to calculate with accuracy (or so I have been told by Mr. Internet), the 140 pounds that Ms. Austen received was about the equivalent of $103,000.00 of today's dollars.  A tidy sum to be sure, and one that was able to give her a modicum of independence in her life.  (It was later, with Mansfield Park where she would make more than all of her prior novels combined.)  She lived modestly, committing herself to reading and writing, with only interludes of a romantic life.

It was the first Hollywood production of Pride, with Sir Laurence Olivier, that projected a romantic imprint upon the cinema.  From there, her novel has spawned dozens of imitations, many popular adaptations.  If it is said that there hasn't been a portrayal of strong women, I think it a disservice to Austen and Bronte - who brought a modern blush of womenhood in their novels.  Smart, winning and sure - unlike some of the pop depictions we must endure today.  Sigh.

short:"Daddy Don't You Walk So Fast" excerpt

...probably a few chapters in from my NaNoWriMo in November...

This is where I could go into an exposition of the details of the travel plans, but I am not that guy.  If I were the type of guy to keep both eyes open for the inevitability of a quirky event, I would at least touch on one of those to move the story along, meanwhile letting you know that we simply didn't launch forward on a tugboat from sunny San Pedro.

My father said his peace: 'I'll make it so you wouldn't want for anything'.

"Fine.  How should we pack for clothes?"

"You'll not want for anything."

"A map?  My pills?  A burner phone from CVS with international SIM card capability?"  Justin, the second youngest was a card.  He was incisive and abrasive, we got on best.  At one point he threatened to have an Excel grid with 100 items that anyone would need to take on a voyage around the world.  I never saw it, and didn't need to.  I'm sure he had it all in that fat head of his.  My brothers were as equally difficult.

There I go, making it quirky with a silly little aside.  It was all too true.  And, with two months to go, I sat with my father for lunch at Newport, restaurant name withheld, but one of many that offer pull up yacht parking.  I was asked to wrap sanity around the arrangements once and for all.

My father chewed through his Firepot Swordfish with amazing ease.  I gave him credit for eating something so spicy.

"Well, I'll pay for it later."  The couple next to us sat upright, visible through my periphery.  Aghast!  I can't say I liked the place for the clientele.  We didn't grow up where we could park our yacht on the landing dock outside and show up for lunch in a breezy Louis Vitton windbreaker.  This was the only place I could get my father to meet me now.  He was agreeable because he knew how much I loathed it.

"Your boys are no longer agreeable if they can at least bring something for the trip..." I paused because it sounded funny on the verge of my lips, "...around the world."  I explained the need for outside contact, the concerns of disengagement from the world, aid kits, satellite phone, special clothing and the whole boring lot.

My father, fully reticent, looked through the dark paneling and at the bright light upon the harbor.  It reflected twice in his glasses.  He quietly, but not slowly, ate his food and drank his IPA.  He was enjoying it.  He found comfort in his age, where he stopped caring what others thought.  I was still marred by it, even in mid-age.

"So, perhaps I should impart upon all of you that this trip, and my impending death..." More stiff backs around us and a slightly dropped salad fork off in the distance, "...that I want to assure you all that I have you taken care of.  There may have been thoughts in the past that I have been distant, aloof, uncaring...this trip is a way for me to make it up to all of you.  Be it known that I watched you, bathed you, read you stories before bed, changed diapers, fed you and the like.  That wicked woman that said otherwise has been nothing but misguided and unfair.

"Son, for you, I have packed a small carry-on for our first journey, as we head to the Galapagos then to Tahiti.  It has a toiletry package right from the Macy's counter, all from Harry's and better than anything you deem usable today.  You'll have a tweed travel suit, slacks, socks - all are designed for outdoor and turned inside out for dining in the evening.  Orvis shoes.  You'll each have a smart watch to track our journey, an appropriately appointed all-purpose DSLR, a Moleskine, swimsuit, pajamas, socks, underwear.  A book.  'Final Fridays' by John Barth.

"At various stops along the way you'll gain access to clothes for that trip.  If we have three nights in Udaipur, then there will be an adequately appropriated wardrobe and other items.  If we are snorkeling in the Maldives, then expect some fins and a snorkel.  I have been planning this trip for the better part of a year, and I am no stranger to travel, or to you."

I felt horrendous.  The combination of Dad's thoroughness and my lack of comfort in this restaurant and I didn't touch it.  I had them box it and gave it to my dad for dinner.  We said little after that as I drove him home.

Latter on Skype.  "Well?"

"He's got us covered, fellas.  Just show up."

And we did.  I may not have all the quirky details, but Dad sure did.

...

poem:"Exemplary"

there's no better signet
pulling star light from night
a precious sparkle in the dark
taking it tenderly
and placing it upon warm skin
allowing its warmth
slip along
and around
leaving nothing untouched

the color violet
upon your wrist
empowers you
as you are
beauty unspent.

read:"CES 2017 Impressions"

CES celebrated 50 years last week.  Where there didn’t seem to be a clear buzz around any one product leading into the show, what became clearer, as buzz generated on day one, became increasingly intriguing.  To help build visuals, please visit my Twitter page for photos.

Cars definitely won a lot of the floor chatter and the queues to the driver seat.  Every big vendor (not only auto manufacturers) had a car at its booth to show how its ecosystem worked in tandem.  Linking Toyota’s Concept ‘I’ and not saying a word, because nothing will say it better than watching this in motion.  Impressive.  BMW showed off its HoloActive Touch system, and equally impressive interior for autonomous vehicles.  All manufacturers announced AI and autonomous cars.

     For media in cars, Ericsson pitched 5G-enable seamless experiences.  If you are listening to music or a podcast at home, your phone will sync with your car and pick-up where you left off.  Kids will have seamless experience as their profiles extend to their seats.  Ericsson also pitched the benefits of 5G for enterprise services and speed to market.

Amazon’s Alexa was next as another ‘best in show’.  Amazon has made their service ubiquitous across 17 different devices.  Ford announced adding Alexa to their fleet, for example.  At the Aria’s C Space of the convention, Amazon rented out an entire space pitching Amazon Marketing – they are leveraging the success of Alexa and Echo to create marketing opportunities for clients.

     Here’s a mouthful, but, “machine learning, highly connected, analytics” were the buzzwords from folks like Adstream, Video Amp and Ericsson.  They were all offering products to increase the knowledge of the consumer.  Ericsson was offering analytics-as-a-service, showing off its engagement with NASCAR.  Adstream offered seamless commercial delivery, oversight and analytics (apparently they already worked on Mick-E).  Videoamp offers optimization and analytics tools in a single interface.

Televisions and displays still naturally draw attention.  Sony finally embraced OLED technology with their Bravia.  But LG got most of the chatter, since they introduced the 2.57mm Signature 4K W (‘w’ for wallpaper).  Why it won several ‘best in show’ categories is it not only being only a few coins in width, but how they achieved this: by putting its ‘guts’ in the sound bar.  All this and the LG had visual improvement upon its predecessors to boot.

     Outside of what would be deemed ‘traditional’ sets, we are seeing bezels drift away, monitor walls seamlessly working in parity, and even transparent monitors.  When a screen is not in use, it goes clear (you guessed it, LG) – so no longer will your sets be an intrusive part of a space.  Razer’s project Ariana integrates a television with projector and ambient lights to immerse the room in you are in, where VR seems to be losing steam.

     Integrated services within the television or through stream boxes have become ubiquitous, so there were no surprises.  However, Sling TV’s AirTV, where over-the-air signals are integrated alongside your Sling service finally bridges OTA through one box.  (Side note, DVR usage has been in decline as more of these stream boxes disperse through the market.)  Disney licensed to a company called Snakebyte, putting together a $99 kid-friendly stream box that will provide video and games.  It’s based on Android and comes with an optional Bluetooth controller.

     For CES after hours - I put in some photos of the night 'life' - which was hard to come by.  Am I the only one that can stay up until 4 in the morning?  https://www.instagram.com/edwardianjackal/

     For the full edwardianjackal experience, please check out the website page.

read:"The Fires of Magellan"

the fore of our ships we called razors
stared straight at the hundreds of hardened synthmonds
of gold, green and black
pointed at us, at our rock, the Magellan

three against us, hours away from any help.

'our training' they say will save you

and so it will
no one spake, there was no need
the ports were quiet, motion was all the noise
fuel cells loaded, munitions stocked
we didn't make eye contact, we knew it was the end
and only 22 survived of 10754

three stood against us, not even firing
hoping to take us without a fight
but it was a strategy soured
for they did not know us and our resolve
not one on the ship said otherwise

but 'fight' soundlessly awoke

sidearms were readied if it were to go ship to ship

they gave only seconds, and seconds was all we needed
and the pre-solute gave its all, focused on the two
while nav pulled to starboard, making a wall between it and the last
90% was given

followed by us razors, a hundred screamed to the fore
'find a break in the dam' and so we did
the Magellan lunged at the nearest, a hulking fire

two ships unloaded their fury at it
(but they reserved again) 

and half of our core was lost
the crew in a furnace, but we did not pause
in memorial, not yet, fingers still on weapon control

and our ships were picked off one by one

"Alpha" came the call sign
the second lieutenant the last left aboard the bridge
we all could see, betwixt lasers and explosions, the Magellan
a fire of fury and anger driving to the fore
at both capitals, screaming with fury

they say a few saw them through the break
the Cap'n at the bridge, frozen to his console

and the last could do little
our contigent harassed it as it fled

two capitals went orange, below conditional
twenty two razors remained
they we call the 'witnesses'
the third Fed ran, never firing a shot

running

the Magallen forced through the dying hulls of two
out the other side
and toward the third, we don't even say its name
for it is cowards and cowards are no luck
in space

pushed through and onward and that's the way Magallen'll stay
a flotilla of tribute, a rock of honor
black as night, some say embers remain upon it

two Fed ships down, the other horrified
and the twenty two went on to fight for other sticks
and take down more

the Magellen! we cry each time we kill
the dark star sitting among the jewels