Santa Would Be Pleased... |
Good "cold, wet and gray" Wednesday, y'all.
Santa Would Be Pleased... |
Good "Monkey" Monday, all bodies!
That ole Matchbox hole needs some attention, y'all.
So many things, and I gotta long way to go...
Therese seemed a bit upset about the death of Alex Tribeck. She knew, like everyone else did, that he fought fourth stage pancreatic cancer for over a year. Tee is almost in her fourth year of surviving that cancer.
Some one wanted me to let her know if Therese high school letters were moved from their original spot on the kitchen table.
They have not!
More and more, our pup is needing a boost to hop in and out of the car and unto the sofa though he is not at the point of giving up trying.
Man, the fat I scraped off of the chuck roast stew I cooked last night was disgusting. I pretended my spatula was an icebreaker ship breaking up the packed sea ice. Having fun where I can find it!
On the causeway last night headed to NOLA, my friend Carol was clicking off photo after photo from a glorious red and orange sunset. I told her I was gonna demand a location fee from her if she continued.
Oh yeh, if you follow my posts, you remember me talking about Monday morning lawn mower wars. That is, cutting the football field grass that doesn't need cutting. Well, this morning, they didn't show up.
They mustah over slept!
I offered this woman that I had not seen in over a year a seat with me when I realized she wasn't waiting for a friend. I think she was hoping that I'd ask her to join me. We had a great time catching up with each other. In jeans and a tank top that showed off her developed shoulders and arms, I complimented her on looks. She told me that she had started cross training and eating right.
"Jeepers, Debbie, I said, isn't the rigors of being a farrier enough?"
Oh and by the way, I finally found my Spencer Davis Greatest Hits album on United Artists... so there!
Enough... first cup!
Copyright 2020/Ben Bensen III
Heard last night one of my baseball heroes, though I wasn't a big Mets fan, Tom "Terrific" Seaver passed away. Of all the instructional videos and books I've studied, his book,"The Art of Pitching" was my "go to" favorite. His book sent me to another book called, "The Seven Minute Rotator Cuff Solution."
I put into practice his exercise regimen for myself and used the many techniques he espoused to teach the correct form for pitching and to maintain healthy shoulders. (I had a slight tear in my supraspinatus.)
As a coach, I realized that having the knowledge to teach does not mean having the ability to get the information over to a student, or in this case, a player who wanted to learn how to pitch. Tom Seaver's book helped me instruct to the player the mechanics of throwing... anything, not just a baseball.
I honestly cannot say the kid got it, but it wasn't for a lack of effort on his part or mine. I now have a healthy respect for what all teachers go through and the frustration that comes from not getting the information across to the student. I do know that Seaver's book became my baseball bible.
Unfortunately, amongst the many books I have on the art, my hardcover book is nowhere to be found.
I might have given it away with the rest of our son's equipment, but probably not. There's a good chance of me putting it away for safe keeping somewhere... never to be seen again.
Rest In Peace, Tom Seaver... and Thanks!
First "on the mound" cup, y'all...
Copyright 2020/Ben Bensen III
Last night, I fixed myself a great meal. It was a capellini style spaghetti with capers and anchovies, some fresh basil leaves, tomatoes and such. It was great. I finished off of half bottle of merlot which mellowed me out. I planned to watch the Broadway film version of Hamilton, but I never got that far.
When Disney asked for a password, I got pissed and cancelled the whole scene. Maybe tomorrow, or is that today?
Anyway, Sunday morning, I got up and took Pierre for a long morning walk before either of us had any breakfast. After our quarter mile walk around the bird sanctuary, I washed a batch of clothes, gave the dog his flea and tick med along with his food, then, fed the birds.
I made a pot of coffee and a, what I call, my "monkey salad." It consists of a quarter of a fresh cut pineapple, a mango, raisins and one banana. I usually add a few roasted peanuts, but I ate them all up watching a ballgame from the 2019 year, the other night. Once I start shucking and eating peanuts, the game has lost all meaning until I finish the bag.
Anyway, I set it all up in order to have breakfast with the program CBS Sunday Morning. I used to like the program with Charles Karult and late Charles Osgood. Nowadays, not so much.
I finished my breakfast and split for a piece of sanity at Giddity-Up. I had hoped to have a cup of coffee and read my new book, but as luck would have it, I met my clay throwing maniac, Craig Mcmillin. I knew him as a mentor to our son before I ever knew him for a ceramicist par excellence that he is. He was delivering some new mug designs for sale at the coffeehouse.
I'm happy to say that two of my SoCal friends brought one of his designs.
Among other topics of discussion, I asked him about his beginnings as an artist/ ceramicist and just how he arrived at the decision that this was gonna be his gift to humanity. I thoroughly enjoyed the trip into his past to share his trials and tribulations along the way. For me, it was a 20 ounce cup conversation.
Craig was quite forthcoming, and I tried to be!
He had to learn how to turn his passion into a business to make it work... I think he's succeeded.
I was motivated to inquire about his "salad days" when one is young and inexperienced because one of the many nurses I have met along the way from one hospital after another, made the jump from a fine artist to a registered nurse. It seemed such a big jump from one side of the brain to another... if you believe in that sort of thing.
Nicole had finished her BFA in fine arts, but had no idea where to go after graduating. She was a ceramicist and knew that it would take a big investment in her career before she ever made a name or a profit for herself.
Drifting around from one idea to another, Nicole went back home to collect her thoughts. It took a year or so to decide that the best way to make a living as an artist was to get a Master's Degree and teach.
Her parents tried to help her with some decision. Eventually, she figured that if she had to back to school, that she might as well go back and get a degree in something more practical... like the medical field. Unlike Craig, who was determined to make it as a ceramicist, Nicole could not find any logic that, as a teacher, she would just perpetuate that familiar conundrum.
"Wow," I said. "That's a really big jump to go from the right side of the brain to the extreme left... Extreme, in my mind," I reiterated.
"I loved the arts, but I couldn't see any way to make it work for me," she said. It would have been such a big investment with no guarantees!"
I asked Craig what his thoughts were about Nicole's decision. We both felt that we had little or no options, but were determined to make it work. Nicole, in her mind, did have options!
Funny, the things that make us who we are, or who we think we are.
As Therese and I had done at St.Tammany Hospital with nurses like Megan Thibodaux, we grew to know and become friends with people we may never, ever see again... like Nicole.
As I was to tell her about my conversation with Craig, she made an announcement that not even her aid knew about.
"I'm sorry to say that today will be my last day here with you, Mrs.Therese and at Ochsner's. My husband finished his residency here and is being transferred to Michigan." It will be great because I'll be closer to my family though I will miss all the friends here at the hospital."
"Ya see? Therese said. "Women want to be close to their family!"
It was at that moment that I decided to do a sketch of her before her day was done. I politely asked if I could snap a photo of her and her partner, Claire.
They both agreed that it was okay and gave me a quick pose. By quitting time, I had them both completed. Both done in Prismacolor and in gratitude for a job well done, and one, to celebrate the move and time we had together.
First cup...
Frames from a storyboard I created to celebrate, for a client, this storybook ending! |
Colonel Mark Pestana was barely moved! |