The Idiot's Guide To Group Introductions

As part of corporate orientation, each new(ish) hire was paired with another new(ish) hire so that we would have a buddy during orientation.  We were given a script of questions to ask about each other, and then we were supposed to come to orientation with a gift idea (you don’t actually have to buy it) for the other person.  Here is how I see my speech going:

**Names of people and places have been changed to protect the identities of individuals involved**

Thank you!  Well, my name is Jamal Black and I am here to introduce Bilary Hecker.

(start as if regaling the group with a delightful story of profound human interest)… You know when you meet someone and you make that connection that says:

“We talked for, like, a half hour... (dramatic pause)… and we asked some pre-determined questions… (dramatic pause)…and now we know some random facts about one another…” (pause for laughter)

Well that’s what we have.  So, I’ve been wracking my mind for at least… (pause to think)… a few minutes… (pause for laughter)… and I’ve been trying to decide what I should get, as an imaginary gift, for my new partner… (dramatic pause)… in crime… (pause for laughter)… that would represent this new… (with emphasis)… thing… (continue)… that has happened.

After not so much careful consideration, I decided that I would get some green play-doh.  Green, because it represents growing things like… (pause to think)… grass… (continue with hesitation as if you are having trouble coming up with ideas)… or broccoli, or spinach… (continue as normal).  Play-doh, because we can form this friendship into whatever we want… (dramatic pause)… and then bake it in the oven of life… (dramatic pause)… and it will stay that way for… (pause to think)… a while… (trail off questioningly)… I think…

Shh... There It Is Again. Did You Hear It?

Somewhere in the distance a clock is tick-tocking.

Mostly the sound gets drowned out by the buzz and hum of day to day life as it drones inexorably on, but there are times when I imagine that I can almost hear the repetitive soft mechanical clashing as my swiftly passing days go by.  Aware as I am in those moments of the fleeting nature and unknown length of my existence in this world, I am at once disarmed by the entirety and magnitude of it all, while simultaneously I feel empowered by the urgency of needed actions which will raise the sum of my life to something worthy of the gift.

When I was 19 and 20, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.  I signed up for college under the belief that I was “supposed” to, but had no internal drive for it and no end goal in mind beyond the supposition that I might stumble upon a subject which interested me enough to pursue as a career.  In the end, I found some interesting subjects, but not nearly enough of them and fewer still maintained my interest beyond the first few weeks.  After a few semesters, I failed out of Purdue University.  I did not, in fact, Boiler Up.

Faced with the vastness of infinite choice, I floundered.

Many instances upon a time, I have again had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.  I felt then, and continue to feel, the persistent need to live a life of consequence but what does that mean, even?  Yeah, there are the universal principles of service to God and service to fellow man, but how do I apply such principles to my own specific life in a way that suits my strengths and interests?  How do I achieve something uniquely me - or should that even be a consideration?  Well-intentioned but non-confident action is better than inaction, but what if more thought and consideration before acting would magnify the effect of future actions?  What if it doesn’t?

There is a fine line between planning and floundering - a razor’s edge, even.  I have faltered in the past but, though I lived to regret it, I used that remaining life to work hard and recover from my first pass at college.

The Great Newspaper Upstairs is writing my story even now.

The deadline approaches.

tick-tock… tick-tock… tick-tock…

Do I have time to recover again?

Please, Sir, I Want Some More

Shelly and I stayed home for the first full weekend in what feels like the entire summer.  We baked fresh foods with ingredients from our garden, walked to a coffee shop and grocery store, cleaned, weeded, cut my hair, and generally relaxed.

Home, Again, At Last

cicadas singing, fan turns round

peaceful nights and summer sounds

it's finders keepers - life is found

-JB 08/21/11

Life is made up of minutes, days, and years; but is lived only in such moments as are stolen and sufficiently and joyously squandered in the simplicity of togetherness with loved ones.