What Happened Wednesday

Well, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?

I am almost done with the big project that I wrote about many days ago.  It has been occupying my mind, to the exclusion of just about everything else, especially in the evening hours when I think about writing in this blog (and decide not to).  There really is some truth to the idea that multitasking is kind of a myth.

That was something my brother-in-law told me at dinner last weekend when he and my sister came down for the holiday.  I was skeptical about it, but I really do think that if two things really require your attention, you can try to do both at the same time, but one of them will suffer, like when someone is talking to you in person at the same time you are on the phone with someone else.  (And in those situations, I have the uncanny ability to make both people mad at me for not listening, mainly because I will be ignoring both of them while thinking to myself, “Which one should I be listening to?”)

Since I last wrote, I worked as an election clerk for the Texas primary poll.  This time, it was in an anonymous government building in a room about the size of a medium conference room.  My co-workers were, as usual, kind and friendly, and I really got to know them because we only had about 200 voters come through between 7:00 am and 7:00 pm.

I don’t mind the slow pace because I have a captive audience and can tell some of my stories to fresh ears.  The trade-off is that you have to listen to their stories, some of which are really interesting and some of which are not (which I guess someone would say about my material).  

Between storytelling, I read a book called The Greatest Sentence Ever Written, which is about the second sentence of the Declaration of Independence (look it up: it really is great), and I worked a couple of Sunday crosswords.  I also got a cheeseburger for lunch at Killen Burger, super good.

I will not comment on the merits of the election except to note that I could tell that Ken Paxton was going to win because of the number of skeevy looking Republicans who turned out at our precinct.  They had the same energy as the J6ers who stormed the capitol in 2021, a kind of angry focus on delivering the MAGA vote and kicking the establishment guy out.  To this day, I just don’t get it, and maybe that’s the point.  You are either in the club or you are not.  I am not.

I got some good news from one of my favorite nephews. He will be getting married soon.  Apparently, he proposed at the Harry Potter wing of a California theme park and they had a wand battle, captured in a series of charming (possibly enhanced) photographs.  Their enthusiastic nerdiness is a big part of why I love him and his fiance dearly.

I volunteered to preside over the ceremony pursuant to my new status as a certified minister.  They expressed some kind encouragement, but I think they are sensitive to their extended family’s preferences and may pass on my offer, which will not hurt my feelings at all.  I am just happy that two people who I care about have found each other and will have a great life together.

On another front, I have resolved what was going to be an irreconcilable conflict in an elegant and first world way.  In about three weeks, I will be going to Las Vegas to play in the World Series of Poker’s Seniors and Super Seniors tournaments.  But in the intervening weekend between the two events, my good friend B will be marrying his lovely daughter off and my friend R will be having a somber remembrance of his late wife at a cemetery.

I can’t do both the poker trip and the Houston events.  Or can I?

I recalled a few years ago that my friend Wojciech had professional commitments between tournaments and flew home to handle them before flying back to Vegas.  At the time, I thought this was decadent.  But now, with tons of Southwest points, it’s a practical solution to accommodate a busy schedule (as well as Father’s Day).

I told my wife what I had decided to do and she gave me a look of genuine surprise, followed by an arched brow look of semi-disapproval.  I think she had the same feeling that I had had with Wojo.  But she laughed and blessed off on the plan.

What else?  I took a guided tour of the Rothko Chapel on the campus of the University of St. Thomas in downtown Houston.  It was awesome in the truest meaning of that overused word, a meditative space surrounded by two-story black paintings with subtle variations and nuances accentuated by indirect changing light coming through a skylight in the chapel.  After we met the president of the Chapel’s foundation, a lovely and enthusiastic former Duke professor of ethics and philosophy and a practicing imam, we entered the Chapel and sat down to contemplate the space.

It was not a negative space, like a sensory deprivation tank, but instead a place that rewards concentration with clarity.  The black panels subtly change with the ambient light, the echoes in the space amplify the smallest sounds.  This spare room contains multitudes.

I will go back soon.

Tomorrow, I get together with the Old Man Thursday lunch bunch, now meeting monthly instead of weekly as we all get older.  Also, I finish my project, once and for all.

I hope to be more diligent on this blog.  It’s important to me, and I hope it’s important to you.  Life goes by so fast.