Author Archive
Got style? Why, yes I do …
Posted by: | Comments#HAWMC Day 15 – half-way home. Hallelujah. Maybe.
Writing with style. That makes me think fondly of E.B. White’s Elements of Style, the first book about writing I ever read. I know that Bill Strunk co-authored EoS, but since E.B. also wrote Charlotte’s Web, he gets to mostly-solo when I’m in charge.
My dad gave me my 1st copy of the book, and it helped me form my voice and style when I was still in grade school. The nuns did their damnedest to turn me into a grrl who wrote properly – IOW boooooooooooooringly and according to their rules – but Strunk & White saved me from perpetrating written assault in the years since.
Thanks, dudes. Daddy, E.B., and Bill. All of you.
Words come easily to me … most of the time. The closer to a deadline I get on projects where I don’t feel a connection to the topic can be problematic, causing me to both procrastinate and self-flagellate (figuratively only on that second one) as the deadline gets closer … and closer … and … aaaaarrrgh! But I don’t blow deadlines regularly, often, or really ever much at all. Can only think of one time when I did, and that turned out to be due to the chemo treatments I was getting at the time.
Chemo-brain made me unable to write. That was Panic City, letmetellyou. I sat down to knock out a simple press release, and … couldn’t figure out what to do. Words weren’t coming, I couldn’t figure out where to start, I was totally frozen and staring at a blank screen.
I’ve never been so frightened in my life, other than when I heard the word cancer and my name in a sentence the first time.
A week later, the words were back, and I recognized that I was witnessing the chemo-brain sequela I’d been warned of by those who had been-there/done-that before me. I exhaled, knowing that I wouldn’t have to figure out some other way to earn my keep than come up with words on demand.
I write almost as fluently as I speak, which is pretty fluent. I write with incredible ease, in pretty much any setting. I write in another’s voice (translation: for clients) just as easily as I do in my own.
As long as a keyboard is involved. I still – occasionally – hand-write thank you notes, but my handwriting has been rendered execrable by the [redacted] years I’ve been using a QWERTY keyboard. That started when LBJ was living at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. Looooooooong time.
My style? Very conversational, often confrontational, occasionally controversial, and from time to time I even invent words when none exist that effectively communicate my meaning. Read my entire oeuvre (here, over at MightyCasey.com, and many other places you can find if you follow all the social breadcrumbs) and see what kind of sense you develop of the real me.
My guess is, you’ll know plenty.
The perfect day(s) …
Posted by: | Comments#HAWMC day 14 (almost half-way there!) – the prompt we’re given is “describe your ideal day – how would you spend your time? Who would be with you? Have you ever had this day?
There are two versions.
#1: perfect day, vacation version
I wake up to early-morning light coming through the forward hatch on the sailboat I’ve been spending time on, island-hopping in the south Pacific. I stretch, smell brewing coffee … and is that fish on the grill? I roll out of the berth and head to the salon/galley. Yep, there’s coffee, and I see my lover’s legs through the companionway. He’s grilling a fish he caught after he got up a few minutes ago – a wahoo.
Wahoo, indeed!
We’ve got a day ahead of us. After breakfast, and a short tour back in the berth – why not, we’re alive, let’s celebrate, right? – we prep the dinghy with our dive gear, suit up in light skins, and head to the reefs close by. We dive for about an hour, finding Nemo all over the damn place, along with plenty of his friends.
We head back to the boat, shower off, dress in our best t-shirts/shorts/flip-flops, and hop back in the dink to head around the point to town. We rinse off our gear at the town dock, hang at the dockside bar for a bit of lunch, and make some plans with other boat-buddies for dinner that night. We head back to the boat, leave our dink tied to our mooring, and head out for a couple hours of sailing exercise – for us, and for the boat.
We’re back at the mooring late afternoon. We stow the dive gear that has been drying in the dink, shower, and dress for dinner in town – which involves fresh shorts for him with a great Hawaiian shirt, a sarong dress for me, and we’re both in our very best flip-flops. The leather ones.
We head back around the point to town, hook up with our buddies – a few of whom were fun-race competitors earlier in the afternoon while we were exercising our canvas – and sit in a waterside watering hole to watch the sun go down. Then it’s a walk to the best restaurant in town, where we eat, tell stories, laugh, and generally have more fun than anyone would think possible.
After dinner, we hit a beach hut that’s rumored to have a great band. It does. We dance and sing until we’re played out, after which we motor the dink back to the boat for a long, salty, flavorful playtime in the berth. And then the sleep of the just, ’cause the next day we’re setting off for a three-day passage to the next set of lovely islands …
#2: perfect day, professional version
I wake up in a hotel room with a great view. My lover, who’s traveling with me, sleeps beside me, and I slip out of bed to start the coffee. When it’s ready, I wake him up with a cup and we snuggle in for a few minutes to talk over the day. I’m speaking at a major international conference that afternoon, and I want to run through my prep with someone I trust – and he’s that someone.
We take our time getting ready, since the first event I’m scheduled to appear at is the event’s lunch. We make our way to the convention center, and into the main ballroom. We’ll be having lunch there with another 5,000 people attending the conference – which is only 30% of the number who will attend my presentation that kicks off the awards celebration cocktails and dinner later in the day. That’s got a sell-out crowd of 16,000.
After lunch, I walk the convention center – talking to attendees, taking in the atmosphere, picking up observations that I’ll fold into my talk in a few hours. An hour before my scheduled intro time, I head for the dressing room where I’ve stowed my “show clothes”. I change, my best guy talks me through my butterflies and preps me for my 60 minutes on the platform.
We head to the hall where the 16,000 have gathered for the big show/party. I’m introduced, and for the next hour, I hold 16,000 people in the palm of my hand – they laugh, they nod, they clap, they gasp, all when I want them to. I close, and get a standing O.
Cocktails start to circulate, dinner follows, we all applaud as members of the organization are recognized for achievements, for dedication, for service.
I dance with my best love, and as the event dies down, we head back to the hotel. Nothing settles a person for sleep better than sex, does it?
Amen to that.
Have either of those days happened? In parts, yes. A current goal to have both of them happen, in full. Stay tuned …
10 things I won’t live without
Posted by: | Comments#HAWMC Day 13 (Friday the 13th – kewl!), and I’m prompted to share 10 things I won’t live without.
Well, they say “couldn’t” and I say “won’t” – I’m much more definitive and fierce by nature, as we’ve already established.
#1: Common sense
This has saved my ass more than once.
#2: My very widespread family
These people are my … people. I grew up moving all the time, without a strong family anchor I would have been lost.
#3: Good coffee
You need to ask?
#4: Good friends
This comes after good coffee ’cause my family are the only peeps who can manage me without caffeine.
#5: Good wine
Take friends & family. Add good wine. Wonderful experiences ensue.
#6: Hot peppers
I have an incendiary palate, to go along with my incendiary tongue. Any questions?
#7: Hummingbirds
See the post from April 5 if you need to know why.
#8: Salt water
The ocean is my touchstone. I need salt water to feel fully alive.
#9: New experiences (daily, if possible)
I have an insatiable curiosity to know everything I can about the world I live in. Which explains my 20+ years in the news business, and much more.
#10: My ferocity
It’s my gift. Really. The world needs warriors who will gear up and speak truth. I like to think I’m one of them, at least when I’m operating at full power.
Scream of consciousness
Posted by: | Comments#hawmc Day 12 says stream of consciousness. i say scream. here goes.
i frankly don’t care if you find my language offensive. i grew up with a fighter pilot as a father, he taught me ferocity and i’ve never un-learned it. i worked and lived in new-york-city for manymany years, including manymany years in live/national/international tv news. if you think that doesn’t make you learn the brooklyn alphabet, you’re fucking crazy.
i hate injustice. i loathe cruelty. i have no respect for jerks. i don’t care if you think you’re pretty, act like an ass to others an you’re the ugliest thing on the planet. meanness is meaningless, it’s nihilism (look it up) and should be banished from the planet.
if we don’t teach kids how to be critical thinkers, they’ll turn into idiots who will buy anything their television tells them to. think about it. weep for our future.
if we don’t care for each other, who the hell will? self-esteem doesn’t count, it’s all about the self-worth, bitches. learn this. live it daily. or shut up.
don’t believe anything anyone who’s running for office says. look at what they’ve done. if they haven’t done anything, don’t vote for ‘em. it’s that simple.
speaking of doing, judge only by deeds, not by words, for everything. it keeps life simple. trust me.
ease pain. increase love. share your feelings with kindness. talk to a child like they have a brain. wag more, bark less. speaking of dogs, find out how powerful downward-facing dog pose is, and assume that pose frequently. it will adjust your worldview in ways that will make a difference to everyone.
imagine what the world would be like if everyone at any meeting anywhere took a quick down-dog break when things got tense. hard to act like you’re all that/all-powerful/the-boss when you’re head-down and stretching your spine while contemplating your feet. don’t believe me.
go do it. right now. go.
Burning Down The House (my theme song)
Posted by: | CommentsFor better or worse, I’ve always been willing to start a fire, or a riot, or a fight, to move a cause or idea forward.
So why on earth would I not have The Talking Heads’ epic anthem “Burning Down The House” as a theme song?
Here’s a live performance:
The lyrics:
Dear 16-year-old me. #HAWMC Day 10.
Posted by: | Comments
Dear 16-year-old Mary-now-called-Casey:
Mom & dad never meant for you to think, all your life, that you were a hideous fat pig. You had that chunky phase, 12 thru 13, and they did get pretty fierce about your weight. They were operating out of fear combined with love, though, and didn’t ever intend for you to carry that psychic burden. Let it go, now, before it buries you.
Stop smoking now, so when you’re in your early 30s you don’t start noticing its effects, and then spend 15+ years trying to quit before finally accomplishing that feat. Quitting now will be the best thing ever.
Boys, and men, are going to behave like jerks most of the time when it comes to romance. For at least the next 40 years. Don’t think it’s you. It’s not. You can’t fix a guy, you can’t help a guy, you can’t be a lifeline for a guy. Throwing a lifeline will just haul you overboard. Be happy, be yourself, don’t sell yourself short.
Be glad you paid close attention, and did some important worst-case-scenario planning, during health-ed class this year. You’ll know what I’m talking about within two years. We’ll keep this one between ourselves, but know that I know it will galvanize your thinking for the rest of your life.
Stick with your dreams. Otherwise you’ll spend a few decades earning a living, but not really living your life.
Don’t fear fear. Fear unfocused anger more than fear. That unfocused anger will turn into depression and self-doubt if you let it. You have been warned.
That recurring dream you had when you were 10 years old about getting breast cancer? It will turn out to be foreshadowing. But you’ll run with that ball really hard down the field, and you’ll make a difference in at least a few lives other than your own.
That is truly the measure of a life well lived. Now go have adventures, never lose your sense of self, and know that you are heart-breakingly beautiful no matter what anyone else might try to make you believe…
Love,
Casey-who-was-once-known-as-Mary
Best. Conversation. Ever. (Take 1)
Posted by: | Comments
Time: Friday, March 30, 2012, about 1:30pm EDT
Scene: a restaurant
Players: 1 woman, 1 man, 2 male extras
The woman and two male extras are having lunch and discussing a business project.
The woman’s phone buzzes, she looks at the screen
Woman:
Oh, it’s my sister in law. My brother had brain surgery yesterday, I’ve got to take this. [she touches screen to answer call] Hey there, honey bunch!
Man [on phone]:
It’s probably not the honey bunch you were expecting.
Woman:
OH MY GOD, it’s YOU! How ARE you? [she whispers to her companions] It’s my BROTHER! I’ve gotta go outside to hear. I’ll be right back.
Man [on phone, at the same time]:
I’m GREAT. Although I’m starving. The bran muffin they brought me for breakfast … well, I’m pretty sure my tumor was bigger. Since I didn’t get dinner last night, by this morning I was ready for some serious chowing-down. They promised to do better at lunch. I’m waiting to see what the level of their game is then.
Woman:
Really? They saw your head open, drag out something huge, and you’re already complaining about the food? That’s … awesome! [laughs]
Man:
Yeah, I know. I feel pretty good, other than a headache, but they’re giving me meds for that. I’m surprised I feel this good, but I do. [laughs]
Woman:
You’re still in the ICU, right?
Man:
Yeah. And I’ve got enough monitoring gear on me that it’s a challenge to get out of bed. I’m allowed to do that, but I have to turn into a juggler to actually accomplish it. Not a great situation, given that I have a bit of a stability issue from the surgery and the meds.
Woman:
When you get out of there, maybe we could put our heads together, come up with some ideas to fix that for the next poor bastard who finds himself in your sitch. I can’t believe how good you sound. I’d be doing handsprings here on the street if I didn’t have to put the phone down to do it. Really.
Man:
Yeah, I feel pretty damn lucky.
Woman:
I love you, bro.
Man:
Love you too, sis.
