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Boyhood

By on Aug 1, 2014 in Blog Posts | 0 comments

Emerging from the theater after watching Boyhood, I was in a daze. The nearly three hour journey was both mundane and inspiring. Watching the cast age over a 12 year period was interesting, but what’s really affecting are the vignettes of the uniquely human struggle that we’re all engaged in. A few dozen people and myself watched as a boy became a man, each of us smiling as we recognized events from our recent history and remembering what we were doing at that time. In one scene, a young Mason is forced to get his hair cut and when he shows up the next day at school the other children giggle at his dramatically different look. I was instantly a child again, with a knot in my stomach, and I just wanted to put my head down on a desk and go to sleep. Mason handled himself better than I would have; he simply carries on with his day. I don’t recall much of my own life...

Remember What It Felt Like The First Time?

By on Jul 29, 2014 in Blog Posts | 5 comments

Do you remember the first time you connected to the Internet? Where were you? What did it feel like? For me, it was the summer of 1996. My mother had taken me to our small public library where I discovered that they would soon have a computer with an Internet connection and I couldn’t wait to get back to try it. A week later I was practically the only person in the library but I still had to add my name to an empty sign-in sheet for just 15 minutes of time on the computer. With an eagerness that only a child can have I sat down and pretended to listen to what the librarian was telling me about “getting online”. After she finally tottered away I was transfixed. Netscape Navigator was loaded and the modem rang out loudly, letting everyone know that a 15 year old Scott Carter had just become a man. The first site I loaded was Yahoo!, the most popular portal of the time....

I Don’t “Get” Dancing

By on Jul 24, 2014 in Blog Posts | 2 comments

As I sit in the coffee shop, merrily sipping my tea and not doing any work, I spy with my bitter eye a young couple dancing. Maybe there are coffee shops where reliving cotillion is the norm, but this isn’t one of them. It’s a place where people pretend to be doing something important but really just watch other people and hope that someone attractive will pay attention to them. Yet, for some incalculable reason, these youths have decided it would be a perfect place to practice dancing. What’s really interesting is how the rest of the customers are reacting. The men are completely ignoring them, despite the fact that they are so annoyingly conspicuous. The women will, from time to time, glance up and stare at them longingly, as if they wish they were the ones dancing. That’s something I’ve never understood about women; they seem to actually enjoy dancing....

My big, giant head

By on Jul 18, 2014 in Blog Posts | 0 comments

For years I’ve been wearing fedoras. I’m not trying to resurrect the fashions of a bygone era, hide my resting bitch face or attempting to cover my balding dome, although that’s part of the reason if I’m being honest, but I sport them because I simply like hats. From time to time I’m reminded of just how bulbous my noggin truly is. Today my friend Nikki donned my fedora only to have a large portion of her normal size head swallowed whole by it. It was an unsettling reminder of why it’s so difficult for me to find a hat that fits. I must have an extremely strong neck, though I’m not sure how to go about testing it. No one has ever tried to strangle me (though many have threatened to), but it would probably be difficult. I like to think of my head and face as “celebrity size”. Have you ever noticed that many celebrities have overly...

Itchy Humans

By on Jul 17, 2014 in Blog Posts | 0 comments

There is a woman in the coffee shop who has scratched at least four different parts of her body in as many minutes. She is flirting with the man beside her and I wonder if he noticed that she keeps scratching herself. Maybe she has lice, but I didn’t think adults got lice unless they were in a prison camp. I don’t think it’s fleas because her clothes don’t have any pet hair on them. He’s stopped talking to her so maybe he finally figured out that she has some kind of condition. Now I can’t stop noticing other people scratching and touching themselves. The two Chinese women beside me are prime examples. They are speaking nothing but Chinese and one of them is very emotive with her hands, and she seems obsessed with fluffing her hair. Her friend seems to have picked up on this and has started unconsciously fluffing her hair as well. Maybe they are...