All Shook Up

Losing interest in things you once loved...when is it depression and when is it growth?

Writing instruments are a passion in my life.  Always have been.  And, for the last four years I have attended the Los Angeles International Pen Show.  It's a pretty big event with lots of retailers and traders that come to show off their wares.  Now, if I were to be completely honest, the whole thing scares the bejesus out of me.  It's a banquet room smashed full of pens and people.  I get a little (okay, a lot) anxious in rooms full of people and very little space to move about.  I've braved it for four years...even dragged my sister and Mother along for the experience (they could care less about pens, but support me) and had a good time...but in thinking about returning in February 2011, my desire is gone. 

I haven't purchased a pen in months.  That's pretty unusual for me.  There are a few inks I would love to own, but I haven't bought those either. 

So...I guess the question for me is: Is my lack of desire in things regarding a passion in my life the result of some new depression or is it a result of a growth process wherein I have learned that I do not need more or the latest and greatest to be satisfied?

More and more, since the death of my Uncle John, I have been thinking about "stuff".  The man had at least two of everything ever made!  (That's nearing hyperbole, but not quite there...)  I look around me and think: Why do I own so much junk?  My Mother says it's engrained in me to be a pack-rat from my father's side.  And, perhaps it is...all but one of my father's siblings are truly pack-rats.  Now, pens are not junk by any means...not to me, anyway...but I do not need all of the pens in the world.  I do not need all of the inks in the world.  

For me, it's pens and books.  For others I know it's clothes or jewelry or cars or purses or shoes or whatever else the Jones' have.  What is it in us that wants everything?  Why do we feel entitled to have that everything?  When is the line of enough crossed?  Is it security?  Why do things make us feel secure?  I've heard tales of people having lived through the Great Depression, having nothing but holey shoes and the tattered clothes on their backs, that now possess rooms and rooms of items they never use...but they possess them.  Do those items really make them feel secure?  

As I look around me, I find insecurity in all of my stuff.  I find an attempt to bury myself in things.  I find wastefulness.   I find myself yelling, "No more stuff!"  

Perhaps I don't want to go to the pen show because I don't need to be enticed to buy more pens and ink.  I don't need to be an impulse buyer anymore.  Perhaps I should take Leo Babauta's (http://www.zenhabits.net/) advice and have a running 30 Day List.  If I see something I want that is not necessary to my existence, i.e. a new pen, I will put it on a 30 Day List in my planner with the date.  If, after 30 days have passed, I still really want the item, I will give myself leave to purchase it.  

I think I'll chalk this up to growth...   

Back To School

Ah, back to school time.  It used to be my favorite time of year...not because I liked school, but because I loved new notebooks and pens and textbooks.  To my Mother's chigrin, I could care less about new clothing or shoes.  I wanted the tools of school.  Admittedly, I was raised comfortably seated in the middle class.  My Mother did everything she could to see that my sister and I had every opportunity, everything we needed, and most things we wanted.  It never occurred to me then that there were students in my class that could not afford even a notebook or pack of pencils.

Over the last five years, my Mother and I have bought backpacks, supplies, underwear and socks for elementary school aged children and delivered them to local schools.  I always knew the need for these items was great, but last year I discovered that here in Las Vegas, there are a number of elementary schools that have 80% of their student bodies made up of severly impoverished and/or homeless children.  The economic straits we find ourselves in has only served to exacerbate an already horrible problem.  Some of these children only get the two meals provided for them by the school's cafeteria each day.  Their evening meals and weekend meals are very often non-existent.  Hollingsworth Elementary School, located at Bruce and Fremont Street in Las Vegas, has a sort of supply closet that they've turned into a "store" for these students.  They stock sneakers, socks, underwear, coats, sleeping bags, backpacks, school supplies, and non-perishable food items such as jars of peanut butter and loaves of bread.  They try very hard to give some food items to students they know will have no meals while they are not in school.  

On Tuesday, I will be dropping off four backpacks loaded with supplies and bags of underwear and socks to Hollingsworth.  To me, no child should have to worry about simple things like the lack of pens and pencils and paper, when they don't know where they will lay their head that night or where their next meal is coming from.  They have enough impeding their precious futures.  I know school supplies are expensive for families...but would you pick up some extra supplies for those in your child's class that may not have the means to get them otherwise?

mnmlsm

I've been reading a lot about minimalism lately via blogs and a book called Put Your Life On A Diet. 

The idea of having only what I need...not all of this clutter around me is wholly appealing.  One guy has even put forth a "100 Thing Challenge", whereby he will pare down his personal possessions to only 100 items.  Quite a lot of people have joined him in his quest for a minimalist life...but they all seem to have their own rules regarding what counts as one item.  One participant says that her 40 pairs of shoes count as one item.  Um...I'm not sure if that is in keeping with the sentiment, but to each her own.  Admittedly, my pens would be one item, as would my ink.  End of story. 

"The Blues is the roots. The rest is the fruits."

You might be wondering where "Bluenotes" comes from.  The blue note, or "worried note", is what makes the musicality of blues and jazz so special, in my opinion.  The I, IV, V, then flat VII of a chord progression is typical blues and it evokes the longing and aching so indicative of the art.  I love the blues.  I believe the blues to be paramount to the American musical lexicon.  To me, it is the only truly American sound.  All other forms of popular music - jazz, country, rock & roll, and hip hop grew from the ingenuity and raw art that is the blues. 

One of my favorite websites is http://www.yearoftheblues.org/.  In 2003, the Year of the Blues project celebrated 100 years of recorded blues in America.  National Public Radio ran an incredible thirteen part series on the evolution of blues, from the African slaves who turned their native musical traditions into the roots of blues, to today's greats like B.B. King, Bonnie Raitt, Robert Cray, and Taj Mahal (to name a scant, but notable few).  If you get a chance, check it out.  It's full of great recordings and great commentary. 

A new television series on the TNT network, "Memphis Beat", starring Jason Lee, showcases some pretty great music.  While the premise of the show is a cop's life in Memphis, Jason Lee's character Detective Dwight Hendricks, is also a musician and a student of Memphis' musical traditions.  Each episode is full of amazing tunes.  Here's hoping TNT puts out a soundtrack...  A recent episode featured a great tune by Tony Joe White called "Polk Salad Annie." 

(Spoken)  "If some of ya'll never been down south too much...
I'm gonna tell you a little bit about this, so that you'll understand
What I'm talkin' about
Down there we have a plant that grows out in the woods and the fields,
Looks somethin' like a turnip green.
Everybody calls is Polk Salad.  Polk Salad.
Used to know a girl that lived down there
And she'd go out in the evenings and pick a mess of it...
Carry it home and cook it for supper, 'cause that's about all they had to eat,
But they did it all right.

(Sung) Down in Louisiana, where the alligators grow so mean
There lived a girl that, I swear to the world, made the alligators look tame

Polk salad Annie, polk salad annie
Everybody said it was a shame
'Cause her mama was workin' on the chain gang
(A mean, vicious woman)

Everyday 'fore supper time she'd go down by the truck patch
And pick her mess o' polk salad
And carry it home in a tote sack

Polk salad Annie, 'Gators got you granny
Everybody said it was a shame
'Cause her mama was aworkin' on the chain gang
(A wretched, spiteful, straight-razor totin' woman,
Lord have mercy, pick a mess of it)

Her daddy was lazy and no count
Claimed he had a bad back
All her brothers were fit for was stealin' watermelons out of my truck patch
Polk salad Annie, the gators got your granny
Everybody said it was a shame
'Cause her mama was workin' on the chain gang
(Sock a little polk salad to me, you know I need a mess of it)"

Listen a bit here http://s0.ilike.com/play#Tony+Joe+White:Polk+Salad+Annie:80278:s53766291.13123166.22882058.0.2.277%2Cstd_47c61a6202764a3498e28a4cb3dd753e

Check out some blues and tell me what you think. 

Something New...

There seem to be blogs about anything and everything.  A few of my friends have them to document their children's lives and achievements.  A few more have them as platforms for their musings.  I enjoy reading them, but never thought about having my own space to muse until just recently.  A pen pal of mine through The Fountain Pen Network (http://www.fountainpennetwork.com/), Dizzy Pen, has started a blog to discuss and review fountain pens, inks and paper - and seeing her beautiful work has inspired me.  I doubt that I will be able to keep myself limited to my pen collecting...mostly because I'm a talker.  I like to discuss varied topics, sometimes beating them into the ground. 

I hope anyone who reads this little bit of me will enjoy what they find.  Perhaps they'll even leave a comment or two.