Notes From Middleground

Things That Are Choice

2006-05-29T17:29:00.000-04:00

If you know Mike Landau, or just wish you did, here is his website/blog with some choice pictures. One problem, don't see any of me?!?! What's going on with that?

www.mikelandau.blogspot.com

...But, he's gay

2006-05-23T23:02:00.000-04:00

Too funny. Thanks to Andrew Sullivan and The Plank.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K1Y6PchDYfw&eurl=

Reader Email

2006-05-18T18:13:00.000-04:00

This comes from an old high school friend named Meghan who was unable to post this as a comment. I graciously agreed to post it for her and will even include my reaction free of charge.

"So I watched this a while back and I think he was rude to go after the very people who invited him to speak (AP) although if he had gone up there and delivered a speech that wasn't humorous and didn't attack any of the political figures in the room with him, he would have been cowardly. As an entertainer, a satirist, he took advantage of the situation to poke fun at everyone. The video started out wonderfully and then lost it's creativity the moment after he falls on the White House lawn, trying to get away from Helen. The speech portion was pretty funny. Most of what he said was right. Any president who says things like "I'm the decider" should be publicly mocked and ridiculed (although Bush's painfully weak grasp of the English language is actually the least of his problems). I don't think I've ever seen Barbara Bush be so pissed off that she deliberately didn't acknowledge Colbert when he left. Yes, his speech was rude and amusing :-) " -Meghan

I don't think it was rude to go after the "very people who invited him to speak." They knew very well what his schtick was, and making fun of the people at the dinner is what comedians are supposed to do. Now, I can see why the audience was surprised into silence that Colbert would have the BALLS to mock the Decider while he sat a mere ten feet away. But that certainly doesn't make his speech any less funny. His satire was right on, perhaps we could all laugh more if our country wasn't being lead by such a pathetic group of people. -Brendan

I Too Support Steven Colbert

2006-05-02T16:21:00.000-04:00

For those who missed it, you can catch Steven Colbert's speech at the White House Correspondents dinner here. Judging by the blogosphere reaction, if you're at all liberal or have a sense of humor you'll find it hilarious. If you're conservative, you think he bombed. Judge for yourself.

A Productive Saturday Morning

2006-04-29T10:58:00.000-04:00

Here's a few things I never thought would happen. That I'd have work on Saturday. That I'd wake up four hours before work to get things done around the house. That I'd really want to clean up my room on a Saturday morning before work. But all of these things came true.

But I did more than that. I finished reading "Blindness," by Jose Saramago. I paid my bills. I organized by receipts. Having finished a first draft of a story yesterday, I got back to work on another story today. And I even did some quick emailing. A good morning for sure.

Now its off to work. I have a big day ahead of me. After the junior clinic, the Waldwick April-May Open will begin with me, Brendan Lynaugh, as director. Yesterday I was busy setting up. I made the draw, called the players with their start times, ordered the food, moved the big table in that will hold the food. So things should run smoothly, here's hoping.

Last night I saw "Thank You For Smoking." Its good, for a movie these days. Plenty of funny parts and the satire rings true. Tonight, a friend from Ohio is in town, here's hoping I get to meet up with him.

My Morning Manifesto

2006-04-27T10:35:00.000-04:00

Getting late into the month and what was once a cycle of the moon, now artificially means its time to dispense with my money for my needs. My roof requires a certain amount of money, for my vehicle which takes me to work so I can earn the money which allows me to pay for my vehicle. Well, I earn a little bit more which allows to pay for my cell phone which is simply needed this day and age and for my car insurance which by federal law is required to allow me to drive, so I can earn money so I can pay for health insurance incase something terrible happens I’ll be able to pay only a small amount of money and doctors can treat me and heal me and keep me healthy so I can continue earning money to pay them. That is what comes at the end of each month. And of course I take out a little bit for my fun money. So I can drink alcohol and laugh with my friends or a take a cute girl out for coffee or if I really like her perhaps even dinner, but then of course in this day and age she’ll often pay her own way, which I don’t mind, in fact I like it like that, not because I’m cheap, but because she’s her own person, doesn’t want to be treated like a blonde trophy to be place in my bedroom. I am a feminist. That’s my fun money, and I also put money aside for quarterly payments to my government, and even though I didn’t vote for most of the people that claim to represent me, I still feel it is good and right to give them approximately a quarter of what people pay me for my services, so that they can provide me with good roads, and good schools for my children when I have them and a ton of other things like spreading freedom and democracy and torturing enemy combatants and bombing villages that house terrorist training camps because we don’t want our planes hitting our own buildings. And that is what the end of the month means, and perhaps I’ll save up just a little bit of money for a new laptop, a better one than the one I am currently using so I can play music, and surf the web and send pictures to my friends, pictures of myself drinking alcohol and laughing and I can even write creatively on this new computer. Or, if I may be do bold, perhaps I’ll take a trip across an ocean, to another continent and see some sights. Meet some people that have a totally different perspective on the world and heck even speak another language, but luckily they speak English too. That is what I’d do if I had enough money left over after paying for all these services that I’m so grateful to do as I am a citizen and a human being.

Is That Really News?

2006-04-26T08:24:00.000-04:00

One of the news headlines on Yahoo this morning read, "Fox Host to Become White House Spokesman." Isn't that a bit like saying "Michael Jordan Named Great Basketball Player," or "Palestinians Planning to Bomb Israel?" I suppose all of these things could be reported as "news," but do they mark any sort of change?

Ok, to be fair, Tony Snow the Fox Host has been critical of the Bush adminstation. Its not like they hired Fred Barnes, but of course why pay Fred when he's already licking your a--hole for free. I'm sorry. That was inappropriate.

Movie Night In Glen Rock

2006-04-24T23:10:00.000-04:00

I stayed at Mom’s house last night because I didn’t want to spend an hour or more driving back into the city in the pouring rain only to have to wake up early to be back at the club by nine for my first lesson. Sean and Mom were both cooking last night, so I had a real treat; a multi course home cooked meal. I started off with Sean’s pasta and fake meat meatballs. Not bad, a good Primi. And then moved on to Mom’s delicious chicken with Indian spices, rice and veggies. Quite a treat… as I mentioned.

For the after dinner entertainment, I went with Sean and his girlfriend Sonia to Wes Coast Video to rent a movie. We took part in the time honored video rental tradition of walking around the new releases clockwise, each of us commenting on movies we’d like to see, as well as sarcastically suggesting movies that were really really bad. It was difficult though, we were all the way to the “T”s and still Sean hadn’t seen anything he liked. My earlier suggestions of “Good Night and Good Luck,” “The Squid and the Whale,” and “Brokeback Mountain,” met with little interest. But finally he saw “The Weatherman,” and while we all agreed that we had heard it was bad, we all remember thinking it could be good. Since, we weren’t going to agree on anything else, that’s what we chose.

It was bad. It had some funny parts, but wasn’t a very good movie. In the post game analysis, Sean and Sonia felt it would have better without Nicholas Cage, and I commented on how the storyline didn’t really mean anything. Satisfied, we said goodnight and went to bed.

The Zen of Writing and Tennis

2006-04-21T11:49:00.000-04:00

My morning free write is pasted below. Though it feels a bit indulgent, I wanted to share this one because it's an example of what I love most about writing. Before I started, I felt sluggish and tired, but quickly after the first few words were written the sentances began flowing out of me. I wrote so fast I couldn't possibly plan what was coming next. That is one joy of writing and I think the most pure joy as well. Its not the "joy of admiration" which comes when friends or strangers praise you. Its not the "joy of commerical success" which I have yet to experience. And its not the "joy of hard work paying off," when after weeks of writing and countless drafts you have something you are truly or proud of. All those are wonderful and good, but are not the "joy of the essence of writing." This essence of writing, high falutian as it sounds, is what should drive us. I find it in all my activities I am passionate towards. Take tennis. There are times when hitting the ball seems as natural as riding a bike. I'm not thinking about how to swing in a techincally perfect fashion, I'm not deciding what kind of strategy I should use. I'm not worried about going for too much and missing. Instead, a different side of my brain has taking over and I am simply letting my body go. This is when tennis is most glorious. At the net, when two players are exchanging volleys, sometimes the ball comes so fast that the racket moves without conscious thought as if by reflex. That's what I'm talking about. So, here is the free write.

Time is running out, so I must hurry. Must get to completion and make something of myself. That is the inner voice talking, but who listens. Brendan 2, the one who has to hit the forehand perfectly every time. Who listens, the one who holds that racket still after contact on the forehand volley. I am talking about different shots here, lest you get confused, oh patient reader. The time is coming when we will all find a service return that matches our personality. One that rifles down the line, barring even the lunging of a racket and after that allows cockiness to emerge in triumphant stride over to the other side to go through this dance again. Up the ball, slightly spinning then here it comes towards me flying through the air so fast and sure. I made up my mind to correct some errors. I made up my mind to play fast and loose with my heart and see what came of these decisions. For so long I have come and come again so close to the outer wall of my citadel and for every dream that has been forgotten another two will never have been dreamed at all and that is sad. So very sad don’t you think. What is most ironic, most iconic about our day to day activities? The simple jokes, the little pleasantries and over and over again we must come to make good on our demands for a better life and simple taking over of artistry and pain. Yes, that is the coming together so brightly of our futures and pasts together again like ripples on a lake in spring time. Ever so peaceful and only our hands grazing each other makes us think that anything could be like this.

Honey Nut Cheerios

2006-04-18T12:04:00.000-04:00

At Fairway last night a giant box of Honey Nut Cheerios was on sale and I couldn’t help myself. It was my favorite childhood cereal; somehow it had passed Mom’s strict no sugar cereal policy and made its way into our cupboard. But I hadn’t had it in years, due in part to my general blahness towards cereal, I had been preferring eggs or oatmeal for a while now, and more recently because of GoLean Crunch, a very healthy and satisfying meal which unlike most cereal did not leave me starving mere hours later. But this morning when I took my first bite I was back in Heaven. What a delightful cereal. It was like candy for breakfast.

Forever

2006-04-18T10:10:00.000-04:00

That seemed to be the theme of this mornings free write. I've pasted it below:

And forever and forever we went on, climbing higher and higher above the grape leaves and the tangle wood vines of playhouse safe in our granddads eye. The kitchen lookout center where Navajo tribes joined in clamor and battle and from everywhere came the galloping screams of bloody carcasses and is that a blonde scalp being carried proudly over our forests? The moonbeams touch down on the forest glade, and peaceful pervasiveness of yesterday survives us. What came before and what is coming now? No one can really see. I made off with a frightful amount of loot and everyday it seems more is coming our way. Forever and ever on this ride we will make junkies out of drug users and take all the credit for curing them.

Easter Weekend In DC

2006-04-17T10:45:00.000-04:00

As usual I hit some traffic early on during my trip. First the Parkway, and then the Turnpike were turned into Car parks to use the amusing British expression. But once I got out of New Jersey it was clear sailing all the way down to the District.

Friday night consisted of rooftop drinking. Since my host and another friend were observing Passover, the alcohol was a bit more upscale than usual. Now, don’t get the wrong idea, as a Gentile I was still able to enjoy a beer or two, and the mixed drinks were the very standard rum and coke or vodka tonic. But it was a great night. Lightning from the storm occasionally lit up the sky, and it didn’t rain too hard so we were able to enjoy the visual spectacle for most of the evening.

Saturday started off wonderfully as I convinced my college friends Dave and Dave to go to “The Diner” in Adams Morgan with me. We went last time I was down in DC and this time the hour wait wasn’t nearly so bad because the weather had much improved from February. Brunch was as delicious as ever. I crammed two pancakes, two eggs, two sausages and toast down my throat and was still ready for more. Dave Polansky, only half Jewish, spent much of brunch teasing Dave Donadio, a fully practicing Jewish person, that he should try some bacon and ham on toasted bread. Another conversation of note included Donadio and I arguing over the Iraq war, specifically whether to blame the Bush administration or the CIA for the WMD fiasco and whether having more troops on the ground would improve the situation. I won’t say who won per se, but boy that guy knows a lot. He’s certainly the nicest Republican I know, and one of the most informed.

After brunch, Donadio had to go work, so Polansky and I went for a walk and enjoyed the cherry blossoms. We stopped by the Smithsonian to see an exhibit by Hokusai, the artist of the “Great Wave.” Then, we met up with Mike Landau, a friend from high school who was engaged in game of croquet on the mall. We drank “Iced Tea” and “Water.” Croquet on the mall proved an amusing afternoon diversion and when the sun went down and we retreated to our homes for dinner. Polansky cooked his usual fabulous pasta and we chatted with his roommate and her friend, both of whom had worked in South Africa.

Saturday night was nothing too exciting. We pre-gamed at Beth’s new Adam’s Morgan apartment and then went to a couple bars in the area. We ate giant slices of pizza and got home late. Ho hum.

Sunday, after a quick brunch, I was on the road back to New York. Sorry, the weekend just wasn’t that exciting. I’ll try to do better next time.

Bed, Chair, Rug

2006-04-17T09:48:00.000-04:00

Another picture to help you get a sense of the layout of my room. (This is where the magic happens)

Desk, Bookshelf and Lamp

2006-04-17T09:47:00.000-04:00

Just to give a better sense of my room.

Above My Desk

2006-04-17T09:45:00.000-04:00

We have dogs drinking in a bar. An amusing poster from the Communist Musuem in Prague. The caption reads, "Pray we don't catch you at another museum." and a cheesy water color picture of the Charles Bridge and Old Town in Prague.

Wayne Chrebet and Day Bed

2006-04-17T09:41:00.000-04:00

Don't laugh. This is my well organized day bed. Lets take a closer look. On the upper left are my envelopes of various size and strength. Just below is my USPTA study manual. (I'll be taking the exam to become a certified Tennis Professional in May) In the lower right is a stray book, (ok, not so totally organized) Moving on, you can see my wallet, keys and cell phone. My retainer case, my dop kit, my alarm clock, old play bills and assorted magazines. Then we have an extra set of sheets in the upper right, a pile of change in the lower right, and good ol old spice there as well. You can also make out my radiator, won't be needing that for a while. And that, as they say, is that.

Wayne Chrebet

2006-04-17T09:40:00.000-04:00

This is Wayne Chrebet...my childhood hero

Backside of my Room

2006-04-17T09:38:00.000-04:00

On the lower right is my bed with my lovely Ralph Lauren sheets. Thanks Mom! And on the left is a poster of a "Repos de la Nuit" by Mucha a Czech artist.

One Corner of My Room

2006-04-17T09:33:00.000-04:00

On the left you can see the lovely poster of Kenyon College as described in my earlier post. Just to the right are my two condors wall hangings purchased in Cuzco, Peru. And below, you can wee my clothes hanger which doubles as towel rack.

Our House, In the Middle of the Street

2006-04-13T10:10:00.000-04:00

Our House. Well, actually Mom's house. That's where I'm blogging from this morning. Now, those readers that have been with me from beginning know this is where Notes was orginally published from and where the rejected title "Notes from my Mom's Couch" also originated.

But that's all in the past. I'm here today because last night Mom was kind enough to take me out to dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant (just like the Billy Joel song) "Rocca" in Glen Rock. Towards the end of dinner we had are semi annual "State of the Brendan address." I did quite well, my plans to teach tennis one more year while applying for MFA programs in both New York and out West pleased Mom immensely. But again, I've gotten off track. See, not only did I have dinner plans in New Jersey last night, but I also had a 7 A.M. service appointment for my beloved blue Toyota Camry. I sometimes call her Cam. So it seemed very wise to stay at Mom's last night rather than make the trek back to New York merely to go wake up in the morning and drive back to Jersey. As an added bonus I got have Passover Dessert at the Siegels and I must confess the Seven Layer Chocolate Matza cake was delicious.

By all this is mere lead up to what I wanted to write about. Which was all the really nice things about Mom's house that you only appreciate now that you live on your own. There are lots of them. Most are obvious: a fully stocked fridge, non stick pans, a full size kitchen, a dishwasher, washer and drier. But perhaps the most overlooked is the state of the TP. Honestly friends, this morning I felt like I was treating my **** crack to a Thermal Spa in Hungary. So soft, so full, so tender. I don't where Mom gets this TP, but it sure beats the hell out of my 99 cent rolls.

The Hungry Writer

2006-04-11T10:16:00.000-04:00

All morning I've felt a serious hunger, likely stemming from my small, meatless dinner last night. I thought a bowl of protein packed Kashi cereal would do the trick, but mere hours later there I was frying eggs and toasting bread. I even added cheese for extra "mmmmm!" And still the hunger remains. Haruki Murakami has an interesting story in his short story collection, "The Elephant Vanishes," entitled "The Second Bakery Attack." In this most unusual story, a husband and wife are so stricken with hunger than they hold up a local McDonald's and steal Big Macs.

My hunger isn't quite at that point and I'm also faced with a different sort of hunger. In between eating I wrote about 500 words of a new short story, which is my daily word goal and also revised earlier sections of the story. This usually satisfies my, wait for the super cliche, daily hunger for writing, but today, I feel I need to do more. But I got a little stuck on this particular story- I like it so far, but I need to figure out where its going, is it just a sad love story with some odd occurances? I feel there must be more to it than that, so I think I'll let a few friends take a look, take the reactions into account, sleep on it and get back on that story's horse tomorrow.

In the meantime, I still feel like writing, and while the feeling is not nearly as strong as my desire to eat more food, but it persists all the same. And I'm reminded of the beginning of the play "Inherit the Wind." When the reporter first arrives at the town where the Scopes Monkey trial will begin he is strongly encouraged to buy a hot dog and bible. He turns to the audience and asks, (and I paraphrase here) which is more hungry, my stomach or my soul?" I believe he buys a hot dog.

A Question Came Up

2006-04-09T23:19:00.000-04:00

Last night, on the cold walk to the subway, my companion and I found ourselves discussing existential literature and Camus was mentioned Which led us to an Indy Rock song that has a line about Camus. "I could dress in black and read Camus/ smoke clove cigarettes and drink vermouth." By sadly we were unable to figure out who wrote/sings this song. My friend claimed she would know if I would sing a few lines, but I'm be, so I politely declined. But, as I learned this night, the song was written by "the magnetic fields" and it's off their groundbreaking triple-album "69 love songs." This amused me a great deal. But what amused me even more was when I googled, "dress in black and read camus" I was directed to a few blogs who had already mentioned the song in a teen angsty sort of way. I guess that pretty much sums up the Notes.-much more than a day late, and not even close to being a dollar short.

A Very Good Tired Feeling

2006-04-09T23:11:00.000-04:00

I was anxious about being late for work, so despite a very late bedtime I was up at nine in the morning. I didn't really have anything to do. I was too tired to read or do some writing. So I aimlessly surfed the web until about ten when I drove to jersey, picked up breakfast and leisurely ate at the club. I taught from 12-6, which isn't nearly as tough as it sounds. Sundays are the older kids, so its usually very enjoyable to teach them and watch them play. I even got a work out in. A very difficult, thirty minute circuit training in which most of the exercised use some part of your core muscles and all are tennis specific. Then at six, my arms and legs still tired from the "core training" I hit for an hour with another teaching Pro, Tracy. For the first twenty minutes, the racket felt like it weighed five pounds (which is about 4 and half pound more than a racket should weigh for the tennis illiterate) So all in all a very fine day. Earned some daily bread, shared good laughs, helped some kids, and improved my conditioning and tennis game. No complaints here.

Great New Book

2006-04-08T20:25:00.000-04:00

Thanks to a recent book exchange I was able to initiate with a few friends who live nearby, I recently got my hands on some wonderful new novels and short stories. "Blindness," by Jose Saramago was first in the queue thanks lagely to a strong reconmendation by my good friend Daria Siegel. I'm about fifty pages in and really loving it. The style is unusual and takes a bit of getting used. For, although there is plenty of reported speech, quotations marks are never used. And partly because of this, many paragraphs run long, some going on for an entire page. I'm finding the book quite readable though, as it easible accomplishes my first benchmark for a novel- i want to find out what happens next.

Daria, a truly wonderful friend if there ever was one, also loaned me her digital camera so I could take pictures of my room and post them to the blog. (Pictures are coming soon) She has also been generous enough to feed me on the occasionally night I stop by her apartment in the late evening. Finally, she agreed to by me a two dollar beer even though she disputes the outcome of a bet we had over the timing of daylights savings. All in all she is a wonderful person, and I pray when she reads this she won't be too upset.

(Almost) Daily Free Write

2006-04-06T10:44:00.000-04:00

I felt like giving everyone a quick window into my life this Thursday morning. Here goes. I strive to write everday. Realistically, I write four or five days a week. What I write varies. I mostly try to work on short stories and that occasionally includes non fiction pieces as well. I also dabble in writing political opinion pieces form time to time. But before I start any genre of serious writing, I always take at least five minutes to warm up with a free write.

I first learned about free writing when I was seventeen and a student at the Young Writers At Kenyon summer workshop. (I've since worked as an RA at the program several summers.) Our teacher explained that free writing was a way to warm up, just like atheletes jog and stretch before the big game, so too should writers get their creative juices flowing before starting the serious work of writing a story. Basically, for five minutes, you write about whatever pops into your head whether it makes sense of not. The idea is to train yourself to write without overthinking and to just plain write. If you can't think of any to say, you still have to make your pen or in this modern age your keyboard move until you figure out something to say. In the meantime, writing "i can't think of anything to write," over and over again will suffice. Some writers like to use this time to write the beginnings of dialogues or character sketches, but I perfer very free flowing stream of consciousness writing. Its often very non sensical. But when I occasionally read over my free writes, I can usually find a few threads that reveal how my mind was working that morning. Back at the summer workshop, our leaders would occasionally ask us to share our free writes. The idea was to stop us from thinking that everything we write had to be "great". As a free write would oftentimes hardly make sense, much less be considered "great writing." So, for you dear readers, the next paragraph is my free write from this morning. Complete and uncensored. Make of it what you will.

Very unusual times my friend. Three, count them three, not so different, but all separate entities, because I do choose to look at the world that way. And I suppose choices must be made, let’s be clear, sometime you make choices, sometimes choices get made and you get swept away or pulled gently like an ocean tide moving you down the beach, far from your mom and dad. We played on beaches together in our shared dreams and mingled future memories produced lightness, aloofness and dancing under the starlight. We did wish upon a star and look where it brought us. All alone in this jungle of concrete and metal and fire hydrants painted yellow to meld in with the leaves that drop incandescent from the sky. I came out and found no where more appropriate than yesterday to eat all the food in the refrigerator. What else came of this? I have no wife egging me on. All motivation resides within? It must, would it really come from elsewhere and how far will we have to go to see the futures for the present? And right now, we came out from under the rock of Gibraltar and eagles diving for the guts of man’s gifter. We are now the children, tanned under the ferocious sun, our skin a lustrous pale shade, and nothing make sense anymore in this world.