TUESDAY THOUGHTS: TELEVISION

TUESDAY THOUGHTS: DECISIONS

There are people— human beings who can be identified—behind every decision, large or small. People decide. Individuals. There's no mysterious cabal of "They". 

It’s convenient to cloak decisions, that affect others, behind businesses, corporations, governments, committees, boards, groups, teams, associations, etc., but living, breathing PEOPLE are in rooms determining what will or won't be. The company didn’t come to a conclusion. People did. Too often, they don’t want to be questioned, or second guessed. They have their reasons. They don’t always want anyone knowing what they are, though, or what part they played to affect the outcome, but there will always be a perfectly worded explanation, courtesy of the head of HR, legal...or chat gpt.

Decisions may not be favorable or popular, but they make sense when you know who was at the table when they were made. When the names and faces of “They” are in the open, everything is clear. Was the decision based on facts, finances, fiction, surveys, studies, research, science, logistics, experience, feelings, whimsy, the greater good, or just plain pettiness and spite? Things are less confusing or surprising when you know exactly whose opinions, biases, priorities, ideas, resources, and input are driving and determining the final say.

We can be selective concerning our own memories, and ideas of what’s relevant, and what’s important. We can decide for ourselves what’s enough, what’s played out, what conversations to end, and what doors to close. We can’t, however, dictate what others choose to vividly and fondly remember, highlight, prioritize, or share. 

Some decisions concerning history and history makers, are an unfortunate shame. It's as if someone declares, with all of the insensitivity of a naked mole rat, "Okay. Let's move on. We've had enough of that". 

Some decisions are explained away as “business”. Others are just tone-deaf, lazy, boneheaded—a slap in the face—and make people wonder who’s making them, who needs to be appeased, who's getting paid, who had beef, what legalities are involved, and why it’s always so hard to read the room?

 

There’s something odd about a thing just blatantly missing from a place where it should, at most, be prominent, and at least, be included. It inspires concern from those who expected or anticipated it. It also draws attention that, those decision makers, responsible for hiding or excluding it, perhaps dread, but don’t necessarily understand.

In a perfect world, the insecure, clueless, misinformed, or unqualified, in any environment or endeavor, will learn that excellence isn’t a liability to be cast aside, or disparaged. Excellence isn’t a threat to be fought against or subdued, and has no expiration date. It shines a light on everything. It shows what's possible. It definitely doesn’t cancel out or put a limit on the creation of more excellence. Study it, share it, hold it up as an example, and it continues. Snuffing it out, or unnecessarily competing with it, is just silly. 

Rest assured, the excellence discarded by one, is always sought, researched, and passed on by another, and in many cases, it's supported by those least suspected. Others will run with what you put down and consider irrelevant. You can’t cry foul when what could have been on your plate or platform, is valued and enjoyed by someone else.

Nefarious attempts to bury excellence only accelerate and invigorate the appetite for it, and heighten the curiosity, of those who are unaware, to learn more about it. 

If the aim is to spark questions, revival, deep dives, retrospectives, new students, consumers, and admirers, then decision makers should continue trying to silence the conversation about, turn the page, minimize, or change the channel on excellence, competence, and accurate history —particularly in spaces where they should be esteemed most, but, sadly aren't.

No. “They” don’t always steal "our" stuff. Sometimes, "we" just give it away, or prove by our indifference, carelessness, thoughtlessness, ignorance, and apathy, that we don’t really appreciate it when we have it, and are even worse at being grateful for, and preserving the history of it, after it’s gone.

TUESDAY THOUGHTS

There’s something powerful about a suspiciously missing thing. It’s given a reasonable amount of time to show up. When it doesn’t, the questions, worrying, curiosity, judgement, and even conspiracies commence: 

What happened? 

Where IS it? 

Was it deliberately removed? 

Was it accidentally mislaid? 

Was it an oversight? 

Was it maliciously axed? 

Was it replaced? 

Was it thrown out?

Who was responsible for its absence?

Was it only meaningful to a few?

And then, people start ferociously looking for it, until they find it, or some semblance of it. People who never even heard of it, get curious and join the search. People who don’t have a dog in the hunt, learn more than they ever knew about it before. Even the messy, busy, and nosy people get in on the investigation, and give the missing thing wings. 

Whether they’re offended, amused, disappointed, angry, or sad, suddenly everybody’s talking about it, and its relevance, importance, and meaning. The missing thing gets amplified and platformed exponentially more than it would have, had it simply been in place, or included where it supposedly belonged.

Sometimes, omission is a good thing.🙂

SATURDAY THOUGHTS

My late Auntee Gladys was on my mind today. I particularly remembered how much she loved assembling jigsaw puzzles. 

She'd place a large, smooth, sturdy piece of cardboard on her cleared kitchen table, open the puzzle box, and dump the individual pieces in a heap, in the middle. Then, she'd carefully locate all of the corner pieces, and any pieces that had straight edges, isolate them, and begin assembling until there was a large rectanglular frame of puzzle pieces on the table. She insisted that if I were to "do a puzzle", it's what should always be done first. It was akin to building a foundation; establishing boundaries and borders; finding similarities that worked together; making the task easier. 

Always nearby for reference, would be the color photo of the painting or photograph. 

She'd spend hours working, noticing distinct colors, patterns, and details, until the total image appeared. Every now and then, there would be a few missing pieces that were critical to the completion of the puzzle. That would frustrate her. She needed them. Where were they? Had she not fully emptied the box? Had they fallen on the floor? Had she accidentally swept them up, and tossed them in the trash? Had someone been meddling with her puzzle, and misplaced them? Were they pieces stuck together? Were they never included in the box in the first place? What was the point in continuing if all of the pieces weren't there?

Missing pieces presented a dilemma. They, somehow, took the wind out of her progress. They diminished the puzzle, and the full appreciation of it. She never considered throwing the rest of the puzzle away, though. She figured that she could use cardboard to craft homemade pieces, although they wouldn't be the same. 

Sometimes, she'd complete a puzzle, only to look at it, and then undo it all. Although the interlocking pieces fit well, looked good, and joined to form a beautiful image, they could always, very easily, and abruptly be dismantled, and put back into the box. Seemed odd, but it was her puzzle. On those occasions, it had just been an exercise. A hobby. Something to pass the time.

I knew which puzzles Auntee Gladys really liked, though. There was an extra level of care given to them. Those puzzles were assembled in the same manner as the others, except, when she finished, they would be sealed, with some kind of thick, transparent glue, so that there would be no chance of them being accidentally or purposely disturbed, shifted, dropped, or taken apart. The glue held everything together. It was supposedly permanent. Without it, the puzzle on her table was vulnerable to spills, stains, or the weight of anything from a coffee cup, to the daily newspaper being placed upon it. Even the cardboard, used to keep the puzzle level, and allow her to move an in-progress puzzle from one place to another, wasn't as vital as the glue. The glue sealed it, and gave the puzzle integrity---posterity even. It determined how the puzzle could be handled. The glue gave it strength. It even seemed to brighten the colors. 

Sometimes, she'd seal both sides. Once dry, the completed puzzles would get another level of security. They were enshrined under glass, placed into a picture frame, and hung on a wall.

Funny, but after all of that attention and care, you had to get right up close to the displayed piece to see that it was, in fact, a puzzle. The glue erased borders, filled in spaces, blurred distinctions, and united all of the pieces into a beautiful whole.

TUESDAY THOUGHTS: TELEVISION

 

"What you need to do--first of all--is focus on something you can control..."

"Any good faith art, material, speech, talk that goes into the universe, is a win...: