Arresting Art

 

It's the intent of the artist to stir the viewer's emotions. Of course, not all viewers are created equal and some of us are harder to stir than others. I have visited a great many museums around the world, and I find art interesting but I usually do not connect to it on any deep or emotional level. In fact, some of the world’s most famous art, pieces that are renowned for their ability to evoke a reaction and inspire awe, were only moderately engaging to me when I viewed them. 

 

The Mona Lisa? Very small and kind of dark, not sure if I really care if that is a smile or a sneer on her lips. The Last Supper, the Sistine Chapel…? Both nice I guess, but all of the religious symbolism is lost on me. The David, the Thinker...? Each impressive in detail and form, but neither emotionally captivating. 

 

Anyway, I was recently hurrying to a meeting in Los Angeles and I took a shortcut behind the Laker’s arena when…BLAM! I was literally and figuratively stopped in my tracks by the most captivating piece of art I have ever viewed. It was/is an eerily powerful piece. 

 

It is a bronze sculpture honoring Kobe Bryant and his daughter Gianna, who perished together in a helicopter crash along with several others. The two are depicted in street clothes, sitting on folding chairs (presumably court side at a basketball game), wrapped in angel wings. They are leaning into each other with the casual and loving embrace that any father and daughter would recognize. She is relaxed and secure, laughing with her head on his shoulder. He is quietly alive, embracing his role as protector and provider as he kisses her head.   

 

The sculpture is tucked in a quiet spot in the shadow of the arena, surrounded by a bed of flowers. Its poignancy cannot be ignored.  I walked past it four times last week and, based on my observations, it is a source of riveting interest for every person who encounters it.

Oh, Death! - A Poem about Life

 

It's the end of the calendar year. If you are feeling reflective, be it wistfully or gratefully, you might be in the perfect state of mind to connect with this poem.  I hope all my imaginary readers lived their lives well in 2024 and continue to do so in 2025.  

Oh, Death! 

Death asked me to join him for dinner 

so I slipped into my favorite black dress 

that I had been saving for a special occasion 

and let him walk me to our candlelit tryst. 

 

He ordered a ribeye, extra rare 

I ordered two desserts and red wine 

and then I sipped and wondered why he looked so familiar 

and smelled like earth and memory. 

 

He felt like a place both faraway 

and deep within my body 

A place that whispers to me 

on the crisp autumn breeze 

along the liminal edges of dusk and dawn 

somewhere between dancing and stillness. 

 

He looked at me 

with the endless night sky in his eyes 

and asked 

‘Did you live your life, my love?’ 

 

As I swirled my wine in its glass 

I wondered If I understood the thread I wove 

into the greater fabric 

If I loved in a way that was deep and freeing 

If I let pain and grief carve me into something more grateful 

If I made enough space to be in awe that flowers exist 

and take the time to watch the honeybees drink their sweet nectar. 

 

I wondered what the riddles of regret 

and longing had taught me 

and if I realized just how beautiful and insignificant 

and monstrous and small we are 

for the brief moment that we are here 

before we all melt back down into ancestors of the land. 

 

Death watched me lick buttercream from my fingers 

As he leaned in close and said 

‘My darling, it’s time.’ 

 

So I slipped my hand into his as he slowly walked me home. 

I took a deep breath as he leaned in close 

for the long kiss goodnight 

and I felt a soft laugh leave my lips as his mouth met mine 

because I never could resist a man 

with the lust for my soul in his eyes 

and a kiss that makes my heart stop. 

 

Author's note: A playful love poem to Death, because I want to remember to relate to it as a part of life, and in ways that exist outside of violence and brutality. - Gina Puorro

The "Debate" Debate

Well, it's an election year. This means we citizens get frequent calls from pollsters, platform fliers stuffed into our mailboxes, constant donation requests, and of course, televised debates. Or do we? 

I don't think we actually get debates... it's just the wrong term for what happens when candidates face off to discuss policy.

Perhaps my definition is too narrow, but I always thought a "debate" was when two sides, each with opposing views on a particular topic, would share and compare arguments advocating for their respective positions. I thought a debate was a structured affair with more or less equal time to make uninterrupted points and to offer salient rebuttals. I also thought a basic tenet of debate was that you had to support your perspective with generally well-vetted facts.

Anyone who more or less agrees with this definition of a debate would likely conclude that we don't really have Presidential debates. We have Presidential "squabbles", characterized by personal attacks and petty innuendo. Each side cherry picks facts and shares them out of context, each side usually exaggerates (or even lies) when convenient, and each side expends as much energy denigrating the other's character as they do critiquing their arguments. 

What is really sad is that this is the formula that seems most effective in swaying voter opinion. Many of us essentially vote for the squabbler most capable of witty comebacks and contemporaneous slander. These are probably not the best criteria for identifying competent leadership.

My preference would be for the voters to identify the issues that are most important to them in any given election, and then see a series of short debates that focus on one issue each time. For example, this year we might have had short debate on economic policy, followed by a short debate on border control, followed by other short debates on the climate or guns or abortion. 

Such single topic debates would elucidate where the candidates agree and where they differ. Importantly, with only one topic to cover, the debaters would have the time to "explain" their plans rather than just "refer" to them. They could also cite the sources of their information and fact checkers on each side could participate in the rebuttals using referenced sources. 

This would yield useful information to help voters determine which candidate's policies are most aligned with their personal priorities. Seems like a better plan than circulating memes on social media...

Appreciation for Leap Day!

I love leap Day. 

It's a day that is "special" for scientific reasons as opposed to other days that have been deemed special for historical reasons (I'm fine with those), religious reasons (not my thing), or commercial reasons (worst of all). Importantly, as far as I know, the main stream public has not yet widely adopted any particular Leap Day rituals; no one expects me to engage in any pre-determined behavior on this day. 

This morning, I was reflecting on how small we are; one recently evolved species, on one little planet, revolving around a sun that seems old to us but is a relative newcomer to the galaxy. At the same time, I was struck but how great we are in that we have somehow figured out that our planet is orbiting around the sun, and that we spin on our axis some 365.24 times for every trip around the sun. It's almost unfathomable to me that we know these things.

As depicted in the graphic above, the earth completes 365 spins (days) in fractionally less time than it takes us to complete a full orbit (year) around the sun. We all know this is why we need to add a "leap day" every 4 years to approximately keep our calendar system on track. But this is only an approximation. 

We also skip leap year about once every 100 years to fine tune the adjustment. Sadly, this will never happen in my lifetime; the last "skip" was in the year 1900, and the next will be in the year 2100. I am OK with that though, I suspect the whole thing will be infused with commercially-driven rituals by then anyway.

5-Day Run

Here is a brief description of a consecutive 5-day run of events that likely mean very little to anyone other than me.  That's the beauty of imaginary readers, I need never worry if my writing means anything to anyone else.

Feb 10 - The start of the Chinese New Year: Not a cause for major celebration among non-Asian descendants in the US, but kind of a big deal in Asia. I came to appreciate the Chinese calendar when I lived in Hong Kong, especially the Year of the Dragon. I recall being surprised at how being "a dragon" afforded me a degree of admiration that I did nothing to deserve other than being born in a particular year.

Feb 11 - The Super Bowl: Kind of a special day in America, especially for football fans but not only for football fans. I found myself home alone with a bowl of chips, a tub of guacamole, and a couple of cold beers. It was a good game and a great start to the Year of the Dragon!

Feb 12 - Lincoln/Darwin birthdays: Probably my two favorite historical figures, born on exactly the same day in history, separated only by a couple of hours and a few thousand miles.  Lincoln was a political mastermind at one of the most contentious times in US history, and laudably favored the people over any self-interest. Darwin was brilliant scientist who bravely championed empirical evidence over  the religious orthodoxy of the time. I always think of them both on 2/12.

Feb 13 - My 25th Wedding Anniversary: A milestone worth noting. We got lots of congratulatory messages, we went out to dinner, exchanged gifts, and saw a show. We discussed taking a trip but knew we would be pretty worn out from celebrating Lincoln and Darwin, so that's on hold for the time being.

Feb 14 - Saint Valentines Day: Everyone knows this one... no editorial necessary. 

Not sure if/when another prolonged streak of special days will hit, but I'll be sure to blog about it should one occur.

Year of the Dragon

 

 

Not sure if any of my imaginary readers pay attention to such things but today begins the Chinese New Year - welcome to the "Year of the Dragon". My year.

Here is some interesting perspective about we dragons (these indisputable facts may or may not have been conjured up by Chat GPT):

 

People born in the Year of the Dragon are believed to inherit characteristics such as strength, intelligence, and good fortune. The Year of the Dragon is often associated with power, vitality, and success, and it is considered an auspicious time for major life events such as marriage or starting a new business. Additionally, in Chinese culture, the Dragon symbolizes imperial power and is often seen as a guardian and protector. As a result, the Year of the Dragon holds cultural and symbolic importance, influencing various aspects of life including celebrations, traditions, and personal beliefs.

 

Not sure what the year has in store but it seems like maybe I should move to China, start a new business, and throw a big party... 

Who Would Want to Live in a Small Town?

 

I am aware of the drawbacks in small towns. Behavioral researchers will tell you that, across a small population, very few people are going to “make it big” and not many highly accomplished people will emerge as “aspirational examples” for others to follow. It's just math.

This reality can temper the dreams and ambitions of children growing up in small towns because, after all, aiming high and achieving greatly is less likely for those who have no examples to follow. Striving toward what you have seen around you is kind of the norm and aiming low can become a self-perpetrating cycle. 

Also, small towns can feel stifling. Rampant familiarity and a sense that everyone knows each other's business can really make one feel boxed in with no room to experiment or grow. Who would want to live like that? 

Then of course, there is this sort of thing: 

I recently traveled across the country and visited the small town where I grew up. Imaginary readers should note that it has been more than 30 years since I lived within a thousand miles of my boyhood home. One day during my brief visit, I ventured out to buy groceries in the middle of a snowstorm. Upon arriving at the store, I realized that I was not carrying my wallet and had no means of paying my bill. I didn’t want to drive back and forth unnecessarily through the snow and, as I pondered my dilemma, I spied a classmate from several decades ago. I approached her for help and, in true small-town fashion, she was handing me money before I could even finish explaining my predicament. I assured her that my brother would stop by to repay her in the days to come, but she waved off that suggestion as some sort of insult. 

Stuff like that happens a lot in small towns. It's a way of life that you can't get anywhere else. I think it's probably okay to forego worldly ambition in the name of simplicity and contentment, but I fear that all too often, the sparkle of the big city blinds many people from the humble glow of the small town. 

24 Years

At some point during my early years of fatherhood, I considered the 6-year gap between the birth of my oldest and the birth of my youngest child. I calculated that I would have 24 years of parenthood before they were all adults which seemed like a luxurious eternity, practically endless in its expanse. Definitely enough time to perfect the art of raising children.

I wrote about this before, at the ten year mark with my "A Decade of Parenthood" post. At that point, I admitted to not knowing much about parenting, but I still thought I would learn it all eventually. It also seemed to me that I had all the time in the world to do so. Wrong and wrong.

By the time any of my imaginary readers see this post, my youngest will be 18 years old; my 24 years will have completely elapsed. Along the way, I came to realize that there is no right way to parent; it's clearly an ongoing exercise of "make-it-up as you go". But I surely underestimated how quickly it would pass. The whole ordeal is like a runaway train that picks up speed every year... you can't slow it down and you can't catch up to climb back on. It just barrels down the track toward an uncertain future that arrives too soon. 

I guess you're never really finished parenting, at least not until your offspring begin providing more care to you than you do to them. In that regard, I'll keep my job for much more than 24 years. But it is already clear to me that parenting children and parenting adults are two different experiences that bring different flavors of satisfaction. For sure both are great, and both are fulfilling, but they are not the same. 

Christmas Be Gone? Not so fast...

Photo Credit: Terri Hartley

At some point in the last couple of decades, some of you imaginary readers may have heard me muttering about how I hate Christmas. Nothing agains Christ or Christians, I just don't enjoy the extreme commercialization and ever-expanding, stress-inducing rituals that so many people get mindlessly sucked into "enjoying". 

You may have even heard my proclamation that, should I become ruler of the world, I would cancel all holidays. If that makes me seem like a curmudgeon then...well... get off my lawn!

This year, I learned about an exciting new product: "Christmas be gone" in a spray can. I immediately scoured the internet for purchase options while dreaming about the satisfaction of dousing carolers and ugly sweater wearers. Turns out the product doesn't really exist... and maybe that's okay.

The Fortiers took a subdued approach to XMAS this year attending one small party during the week before, a family movie on Christmas eve, sensible gift giving and the exchange of thoughtful, hand-made cards, and a close family of three joining us for Christmas dinner. It was really nice. I didn't hate any of it.

Now don't get me wrong, we 're not talking a grinch-like transformation or anything like that... and I still probably hate the other holidays, but Christmas 2023 was a really good one capping off a challenging year. 

I'll try to keep this momentum leading up to New Year's Eve... might even stay up until midnight!

No Stopping Me Now

Well, this is bad news for my enemies… 

See that photo? That little, red, twisty thing is what Italian scientists call a “corno”; it means “horn” in English. This one came from Naples and, according to well-substantiated scientific fact, it will likely change my life. 

The "science", which is sometimes called "conjecture" by the haters, has been passed along from Italian grandma to Italian grandma for generations, and has proven the following fact: the corno attracts good fortune and repels curses if it is (1) made by hand, (2) painted red, and (3) given as a gift. 

Check, check, check; mine meets all 3 criteria. 

So now that I have received this gift, how do I expect my life to change? 

Well, of course, unlikely events of good fortune will find me on a regular basis. You can follow me on social media to keep track of my forthcoming holes in one, straight flushes, and appearances on Jumbotrons at major sporting events. This is likely to be so common that I may need to register the handle @JumbotronGuy to launch my career as an influencer. 

But more importantly, if any of you imaginary readers have ever put a curse on me, it will no longer be effective. The curse-cancelling powers of the corno are a well-established fact that drives the entire superstition industry in Naples. 

No stopping me now... your move enemies!