I Lost Track of the Score Long Ago

Congratulations to Ms. Amanda Pierce (a.k.a. "The Lady Friend", a.a.k.a. "The Soon to Be Permanent Lady Friend") for correctly naming "California" by Phantom Planet as the Tuesday Song of the Day.

I would also be remiss if I didn't direct all of you to this website, where you can drop a note for the future Mrs. Scott and yours truly.

Part 30 (My Response)

I've told you this before, so hopefully you won't still be too mad at me, but I've never read Atlas Shrugged. I've read other Rand books, but I've never tackled Atlas or The Fountainhead. I'll just borrow your copy of Atlas when you finish in 2011.

The lady friend has said that I over-think these kinds of questions (favorite book, movie, album, TV show, etc.), so I tried to find a nice middle ground between thinking too much and too little about it by taking my gut reactions, looking them over a little bit, and then deciding if they made sense.

In high school, I loved A Separate Peace by John Knowles. I'm not sure if you hippies in Boulder were required (or even allowed) to read a book loosely based on John Knowles' experiences at a bastion of northeast elitism like Exeter, but I loved the book, not only for its vivid depiction of someone else's high school experience, but also for how accurately it portrays the volatility of high school friendships and relationships.

In college, the one book that stands out is A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. That's not to say that I didn't read a number of other books in college that I loved, but Heartbreaking Work was the first book that I remember reading and thinking, "I've never read anything like this before." It's also funny that I've recommended the book to other people and been surprised at how difficult they found the book to be.

In particular, I'm remember my Mom reading the book, and as we were discussing it she said something along the lines of "I guess you just have to be a guy in your late teens/early 20's to get that book." While I don't think that's universally true, I think there is something to the idea that sometimes we read books at these critical points in our lives, and if we had read that same book 10 years earlier or 10 years later, it would not have nearly the same affect on us. I don't think I would have connected with Eggers' description of how he tried to balance the loss of his parents, raising his 8-year old brother Toph, and at 22, trying to figure out who he was going to be, if I had read the book at 11 or at 31.

We've Been on the Run, Driving in the Sun

Congratulations to Micah for correctly naming "Psycho Killer" by the Talking Heads as the Monday Song of the Day.

Part XXIX (Luke's Response)

Yeah, there is this awareness renaissance for most collegians that is seemingly always tied to literature. My answer has got to be the most common one you'll hear: Ayn Rand. Atlas Shrugged was the first book I was able to unequivocally call my favorite.

It was my favorite not necessarily because the ideas therein resonated with my own, but because the book made me think like no other one had.

As is the case, the book was added to my life stew just after the right mix of ingredients had already been combined. Consider the following ingredients: Born in Texas to parents who attended a private, faith-based university. Raised in Boulder, CO among millionaire hippies. One side of the family prone to sign over their entire paycheck to a homeless guy; the other side of the family near-militant capitalists. Add the dynamic Bring all those ingredients to a simmer then top with a dollop of Atlas during sophomore year, and you'll have a memorable experience.

Funny you brought this up. Recently I was thinking about the book and it's affect on me. I wondered how the book would strike me now, so I started to read it again. I'll let you know what I think when I finish it in 2011.

What you got?

Don't Touch Me, I'm a Real Live Wire

Part XXVIII (My Response)

No, the jump is not a difficult one at all, but when I think about whether we care about sports too much, I return to the idea that maybe we don't care about sports more than we once did, it's just become easier to have sports (or anything really) in our lives all the time now because of the explosion of television and the internet. Thanks, Al Gore!

The money that we pour into follwoing our teams could certainly do much more good if it was going to pay for anti-retroviral drugs in Africa, reinforced concrete in Haiti, or clean water in Southeast Asia, but then again, so could all of the money that we spend going to movies, buying books, iPods, and all of the other things that we use to amuse ourselves. I think you're right that the key point is not to realize that sport has the ability to teach us some very valuable life lessons, and then to use those life lessons in the arenas of life that truly do matter.

I'd like to take things in a different direction and ask you which book you read during college that, for whatever reason, still sticks with you. I'm not sure exactly why, but it seems like books that people read during high school and college stick with them through many seasons of life and become these old friends that we return to time and again. Even if we don't read those books again every year, we remember their characters, we recommend them to others, and we have this weird connection with anyone who mentions that they really enjoyed the book as well. I'm just curious what book(s) fit that description for you?

I Can't Seem to Face Up to the Facts

Part XXVII (Luke's Response)

Great question. Worth pondering because, as we've said, of the meaningful function sport serves to us. I'm not sure we care about sports enough. Let me clarify. I'm not sure we care intentionally enough about sports.

We spend a great deal of time paying attention to sports, on TV and in person, but I wonder how much time we spend in reflection.

As you pointed out, some of the allure of sports is the "escape." They help break the monotony of our regular routines and offer a safe emotional release. But a tricky thing happens- we're prone to shift into a comfort-induced mental auto-pilot. I doubt that generally sports fans spend too much time in reflection over the existential significance of sport. And those are the deepest reasons sport is good. So we ought to be more intentional with our thought/reflection about sport. Let's examine the ways sport brings us together and helps us live deeply.

But in the more plain way, yes we probably do care too much about sports. It's not a hard case to make that at least some of the money we spend on sports could be more wisely spent. At least it could have more meaningful impacts.

The jump from sports fanaticism in America to piggy excess is not a difficult one, right?

The Train is Getting Way Too Loud

Part XXVI (My Response)

Before I attempt to answer your question on the typical temperament for a sports fan, I'd like to follow up on your observation regarding Daryl Morey. I'm not nearly as interested in the NBA as you are, but due to the fact that I'm (largely) a Bill Simmons sycophant, and Simmons and Morey are buddies, I've come to appreciate Morey's work. I'm really writing all of this in hopes that he'll invite me over to dinner since we do live in the same city, but I'm not holding my breath on that invitation. Anyway, what I mean to say is that the identity, background, and yes, temperament of those who hold front office jobs for sports franchises is going to continue to change. We're going to see more people like Morey (MIT, computer science background) and Andrew Friedman (Tampa Bay Rays' Executive Vice President of Baseball Operations with a financial background, albeit at Bear Stearns) instead of seeing the usual mill of former players through the front office.

You were dead on when you said that sports fans are people of all personality types and characteristics, but sports fans strike me as people who both need and thrive in community. (Hmmm, I think we've discussed that term before. I'm sensing some threads coming together in this conversation.) The act of playing sports, even individual sports, is largely a communal experience, and one of the joys of following a particular team or club or franchise is sharing in the highs and lows of that franchise with others who feel the same way you do about your chosen team. I don't think you're going to find many extreme introverts among the mass of sports fans.

Since you've been asking the questions lately, I'll ask you a question: Working off of our earlier discussion about whether people care more about sports than they did in the the past, do we, as a society, care too much about sports today?

You Can Say What You Mean, but It Won't Change a Thing

Congratulations to the newly married Joseph R. Halbert for correctly naming "El Scorcho" by Weezer, as well as providing the bonus information that "El Scorcho" is, in fact, on Weezer's second album, Pinkerton. Joey Halbert, ladies and gentlemen, is truly doing the Lord's work.

Weezer - New Music - More Music Videos

Part XXV (Luke's Response)

Around, indeed, she is. And she is easy. Ok I'll stop there.

That's well said- Maybe we don't necessarily care more about sports now, it's just easier to care now.

Lately I've been thinking on something that perhaps can tie in here. Temperament. I often wonder, "what type of person is that?" I see people on TV, people in sports/political/business positions and I wonder. For example, take Houston Rockets GM Daryl Morey. He's in pro basketball for a living and he's a computer science type. He may be a mold-breaker among his colleagues, which makes him interesting. Seems there aren't many computer science types among pro hoops GMs.

I wonder what label to place on the person who keeps up with sports intentionally. What type of person is a sports fan? Of course, I realize there are people of all personality types and temperaments who love sports. But generally, what type of person is a sports fan?

The Redhead Said You Shred the Cello, and I'm Jello Baby

Congratulations to Mr. Andrew M. Tuegel for correctly naming "Bullet the Blue Sky" by Larry Mullen, Jr., Adam Clayton, and those two other guys as the Monday Song of the Day.

Part XXIV (My Response)

I think there's something to your idea that we've all grown more attached to sports of late, but I'm not sure if that's because sports mean more to people in the 21st century or because we have so many more avenues to be connected to sports. Back in the 1940's, if you were a kid living in the Mississippi River Delta, and you loved Stan Musial and the St. Louis Cardinals, you had two realisitic ways of following the Cardinals: 1. The newspaper and 2. the radio. Other than that, you might dream about making the pilgrimmage to The 'Lou (thanks Jon Heintz and Mike Griff) to watch Stan the Man, but the radio and the newspaper were your two sources of Cardinals info.

Now, though? Well, a kid could wake up and look at his phone to see how Albert Pujols did in the Cardinals game the night before. If doesn't look at his phone, there's always the computer in the family room where he can hop on Cardinals.com (contrary to popular belief it's not a site run by the Catholic church). If his family doesn't have internet, they probably have TV where he can flip over to ESPN where they are running highlights 24 hours a day. If they don't have TV, he can listen in the family car to the local sports talk radio station. Failing all of those, he can look at that dinosaur of the media world, yes, a newspaper.

I paint that picture to emphasize that maybe we don't necessarily care more about sports now, it's just that they're around so darn much. With the advent of the internet, cable tv, mobile phone technology, things like sports that might have taken up a much smaller portion of the available broadcast/media world now have the opportunity to have their own networks, blogs, iPhone apps, etc, etc. Sports might just be that girl that we don't necessarily love too much, but we put up with her, because hey, she's around.

Jacob Wrestled the Angel, and the Angel Was Overcome

Congratulations to Mr. Greg Grubb for correctly naming "Sequestered in Memphis" by The Hold Steady as the Friday Song of the Day.

Part XXIII (Luke's Response)

Makes sense. Now I'm wondering about the trend of this phenomenon. Historically, have we always been this way, or are we more so now? That is, in the early days of baseball, for example, was people's devotion as intense as it is now? It seems we've grown more attached to sports of late. There are probably a large number of factors that contribute to a culture's devotion to sports. An obvious one might be average income. If I have to work four jobs just to survive, I'm going to have less time and energy to devote to a sports team. But if I have a job that affords me some free time, I'm more likely to invest in my team.

I also wonder what the zenith of this phenomenon is. At what point (and because of what factors?) will our devotion wane? We'll always have some interest in sports, but when will it be at a trough?

I Know I Look Tired but Everything's Fried Here in Memphis

Part XXII (My Response)

I'm not saying that the "bulbous, hairy, occassionally inebriated dudes" always intend to follow their chosen team because they know that doing so will allow them to express and experience all of those emotions. I'm saying that sometimes we do things because we know how they make us feel, even if we don't understand exactly why.

It's funny that you labeled yourself a "sports heretic" a couple of emails ago, because I've heard Bill Simmons refer to Chuck Klosterman as a "sports atheist." The difference in the labels is that Klosterman has no team to which he attaches himself, and we all know Simmons' rooting loyalties rather well now, but you do have teams that you follow. As you've said, though, this following does not include getting pulled into some sort of funk when the Blue Devils, Evil Empire, or Lakers lose. It also probably means that you don't get too excited when they win either. You appreciate the act of following the team and enjoying the games, but you don't allow it to affect your emotional state. That's undoubtedly the healthier route as a sports fan.

On the other hand, though, you have people that you have already mentioned who go into a self-destructive tailspin whenever their team loses and go out and overturn cop cars and assault police horses when their team wins a title. I think the reason for the self-destructive tendencies is explained very well in Nick Hornby's book "Fever Pitch", which is Hornby's memoir on his life as a supporter of Arsenal FC in the English Premier League.

Let's leave aside for a moment any Red Sox-related associations you may have with the words "Fever" and "Pitch" and reflect on Hornby's work. He explained that at times when Arsenal would climb to the top of the standings in England only to come up with ever more creative ways of losing games and squandering their season, he was also going through a really rough patch in his own life. The struggles of Arsenal on the pitch came to mirror his own struggles, whether those be romantic, financial, or emotional. Once his life turned around, he still cared about Arsenal, but the times when they would horribly collapse, it didn't affect him as much. I guess the moral of his story is that people use sports as an escape from some of the drudgery of everyday life, and when sports leads to disappointment as well, people allow those feelings to take root.

I Had a Friend Was a Big Baseball Player Back in High School

Part XXI (Luke's Response)

So bulbous, hairy, occasionally inebriated dudes paint their faces and yell in unison on Sundays to satisfy their need to express emotions? I'm kidding. I see your point. There is an interesting emotional attachment fans have with their teams.

Something that puzzles me is the extremes to which I've seen people take these emotions. Your team loses and you're despondent for a calendar year. Your team wins and you propose to your girlfriend.

To your point about the black/white nature of sports- I wonder if there's more to it. I wonder if we don't prefer the gray to the black and white. If there were no interest in the gray, i.e. the discussion, arguing, etc., a 24-hour sports television network would never survive. There wouldn't be people whose entire careers are made arguing about sports games. Of course I understand your point, because at the end of the day, there is a record book. There is a score that gets recorded. There is some sort of finality.

I heard a funny line from a sports talking-head this week, although not for the first time. Speaking of a men's college basketball game he said, "the better team lost." I love that even though we know who the winner is, we don't know who's better.

Indeed I am a Duke/Yankees/Lakers supporter. The reason is the same reason I'm a free-market supporter. I like to see the best. That's about it. Traditionally, Duke, NY, and LA (among others) have employed the best.

When I was growing up, the team on TV was the Nuggets. The crappy '90s Nuggets. Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf, LaPhonso Ellis, Dikembe Mutombo. Although in fairness Mutombo averaged 4+ blocks per game in '93, I got tired of watching dump-bucket hoops. The best team in our conference those years was the Lakers. But am I still a Nuggets fan today? Of course.

I guess the biggest puzzle to me is the extent to which people take their sports fan-ness. I don't totally understand how some people's moods can be affected by the outcome of sports games. Enlighten me.

Trying to Imagine a Place Where It's Always Safe and Warm

Part XX (My Response)

I'm going to try to restrain my opinions on your particular rooting loyalties (Duke basketball, Yankees baseball, and Lakers basketball) for a little while, but for now, I'll be glad to talk about sports fanaticism in general.

I mentioned this to you this weekend, but I really think you would enjoy Warren St. John's "Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer." St. John grew up in Birmingham, Alabama as a HUGE Crimson Tide fan, but when he decided to go to college at Columbia, he couldn't understand why no one there cared about the school's football team, when during his childhood, the Crimson Tide were the biggest thing going in the state of Alabama (sorry, Auburn fans). He goes back to Alabama, follows the team around during the 1999 season in an R.V., meets an entire cast of bizarre/lovable characters, and does a little writing about the idea of sports fanatacism in general.

The main reason that I think people are so fanatical about sports, besides the ones that you've already mentioned (triablism, vicariousness, competition) is that it provides a context in which we can experience all of these emotions that the world tells us are bad (hatred, anger, violence, revenge, etc.) in a setting where it's more socially acceptable, because, after all, it's just a game. People from the entire southeastern United States don't really hate Tim Tebow (well, maybe they do). They hate that he plays for Florida, a team that they loath.

Sports fanaticism is appealing also because it's an inviting alternative to the ambiguities of everyday life. At the end of a regular day, we may feel good about what we've done that day, we may be proud of what we've accomplished, or the day may have been an unmitigated disaster and we can't wait for it to end.

But here's the thing: All of that exists in this subjective gray area. Sports has none of that ambiguity. At the end of the game (unless it's that sissy game of soccer), we have winners and we have losers, and you can't really get confused about who's who because the answers are there for you on the scoreboard. With that understanding, we sit down to watch our teams play knowing that we'll have some sort of resolution (whether it be good or bad) in a few hours. It allows us to experience all of those aforementioned emotions in a way that isn't exactly real.

I'll stop there and let the conversation continue.

You're up, Reeves.

What Can a Poor Boy Do Except to Sing in a Rock n Roll Band

Congratulations to Mr. John Middleton for correctly naming "A Long December" by the Counting Crows as the Monday Song of the Day. Congratulations to my sister, Katie, for coming up juuuuuuuuuust short. Sorry, Katie.

Part XIX (Luke's Response)

This is sort of a zig in topic, but the idea of balance is common to this and our conversation thus far. On my list of interests is sports fanaticism. Sports teams, in some people, arouse more passion than any other subject. More than politics, more than religion, and (sadly) more than some human relationships.

This is a topic I've wanted to discuss with you (and others who are warmly invited into this conversation via the blog). Many of these prompts we've been discussing are explicitly categorizable as, as you tag it "amateur philosophy." But some might say sports fanaticism doesn't fit there; that it isn't a serious topic. I'd argue the converse. Sports and sports fanaticism is a meaningful discussion topic. Tribalism, vicariousness, competition.

Of the discussion topics we've discussed, this one isn't merely a prompt for me. I really don't get it like many people do. Sure, there are teams for whom I root. But I don't think I treat sports like other people. I've more than once been derided, called a sports heretic. My sports loyalties aren't geographically based, nor are they divided by rivals. That is, I'm a fan of both Williams and Krzyzewski.

So because I know you've got more than one man's share of opinions on this subject, I'm leaving it vague and just saying, let's talk about sports fanaticism.

There will be blood.

Drove Up to Hillside Manor Sometime After Two A.M.

Part XVIII (My Response)

Those last few lines definitely resonate with me. As I was sitting down to gather my thoughts before writing this (yes, I tried to gather my thoughts even if what you are about to read doesn't seem logical or methodical) I tried to find the root of that need for independence, that need for self-sufficiency. It would be convenient to say that attitude/world-view comes from one place, but in truth, it is like most things in life, a combination of a variety of factors and experiences that come together to make us who we are.

Part of it is probably in my nature as a man. I'm certainly no expert on the genders, and I'm not saying that men don't have cooperative tendencies and women don't have independent tendencies, but it seems like men have a greater proclivity towards this kind of a self-sufficient, Lone Ranger taking on the problems of the world outlook. If you (Luke or the readers) think that I'm way off-base in that, I really would love to have you set my straight and settle my hash.

Another part of it is that we love to say the right things about community, accountability, and responsibility, but when it comes down to it, those things are difficult. Many times, realizing that we are out-of-balance in some portion of our lives is a painful experience, and if we can live in our own world and convince ourselves that we'll pull ourselves up by our boot-straps (even though I don't even own any boots) and back into this state of balance that we have been discussing for the past few weeks. We know rationally that we will be in a better position if we allow others to point out our blind spots and give us advice, but in our hearts, it is much easier to live in the deluded state where we can figure it all out if we only continue to grind and work towards that balance on our own.

As the Day Grows Dim I Hear You Sing a Golden Hymn

Congratulations to the recently-married Joey Halbert for correctly naming "Interstate Love Song" by Stone Temple Pilots as the Thursday Song of the Day.

Part XVII (Luke's Response)

One thing that's definitely worth mentioning- we shouldn't be leery of technology to the point that we're kept from participating in it. Whenever new gadgets/technologies come along, there are always haters. The anti-facebook people, the anti-twitter people, etc. History will reveal that I used to be one of these. Hell, I didn't have a cell phone until I was a junior in college. But now I'm of the school which says technology, especially technology that encourages togetherness among people, is good.

Usually I'm not the best judge of how balanced I am. That is to say that often people around me are aware of my imbalances before I am. And it then falls on my friends (or others around me) to alert me of such things. That's a friend's responsibility and privilege. And as technology continues to advance, and we continue to tread in ever-new directions, maybe it's on us (we friends) to help each other achieve balance.

And it's not a one and done thing. It's not like, "well we've achieved balance, good thing we don't have to worry about that again." Balance is something at which we must continually work. That last sentence is certainly true of me. One of the duties of the principal (the person in question, for example, me) is discipline. For me to achieve balance, I'm not relinquished of the need of discipline.

So achieving some balance between ever-imposing/connecting technologies and solitude is a lot like with the rest of life. We need to work hard. And we need help.

I'd guess you and I are similar in that we both like earning our own way. That is, the above-mentioned about accepting help, receiving guidance from others about our personal levels of balancedness sort of strikes a dissonant chord within us. Personally I'd rather buy a car from an Iraqi auto manufacturer than accept any help of any kind from anyone. I can handle myself, dammit! It's this stupid self-dependence which will be my constant opponent in my pursuit of balance. I'm curious for your thoughts on this self-dependent attitude. Are you like this? Does the idea of accepting advice/help rub you wrong?

Promises of What I Seemed to Be

Part XVI (My Response)

Your experience at Austin Stone is exactly how I see churches adapting technology to the ever present need to make connections and build relationships. It's not technology for technology's sake. It's using technology as a means to an end not an end itself.

The last sentence of your response really caught my attention. We really are part of a generation that, as you say, has the "attention span of a gibbon with ADHD", although I think that might be unfair to gibbons worldwide. I've noticed a change in myself just over the last few months since I started working in terms of always wanting/needing something to occupy my attention. For example, before starting this job, I had never really paid much attention to my cell phone. Sure, with my phones in the past I had received calls and received (but could not send) text messages, but that was all my phone was there for. It wasn't a source of entertainment, it wasn't something that I used like an adult version of a mobile to distract me whenever I grew bored. Now, though, that I have the BlackBerry in hand, if there's ever a dull moment, I'll look down at my phone seeing who has posted something new on Twitter or looking to see if Liverpool has yet again disappointed me. I don't think it's to the point yet where others are distracted by me being distracted, but I have noticed the change in myself, even if no one else has yet.

Here's my question out of that rambling paragraph: What do we do to find the "balance" that we've discussed previously in this conversation between technology and solitude, between the amazing advances of the modern world and the quiet moments that man has been able to experience since the very beginning of time?

They'll Kill Him With Self Confidence After Poisoning Him With Words

Part XV (Luke's Response)

Well certainly church must be effected. And must adapt. And perhaps in a way it never has before. Since the curve of technology development is exponential, and technology is what we're dealing with, it stands to reason that history hasn't seen us need to make this jump before.

There's a cynical view that church will become more techo-ish and lose a certain human element, but I'm more hopeful. I imagine community being enriched by technology, not necessarily weakened. But effort is probably the key, as you've said.

It's interesting how some church congregations have adapted already. A few months ago I went to Austin Stone with Girod. And of course I tweeted about it. Within the hour, @TheAustinStone had tweeted back to me following up on my experience. They asked if I wanted more info., they asked how my visit was, they welcomed me. All in 140 characters. It's this type of adaptation that I imagine churches making to reach this new kind of community. And perhaps it's because I'm of this "attention span of a gibbon with ADHD" generation, but for the most part, I'm cool with it.

They're Selling Postcards of the Hanging, They're Painting the Passports Brown

Part XIV (My Response)

You're right that community must look different than it did 15, 30, 60 years ago, and your anecdote regarding the hand-written letter to a client is a perfect example. First, yes, you are better than all of us. That is freely acknowledge. Now, please quit rubbing our faces in our inadequacy. Second, the key to community in a "sound-bite community" world is to be intentional about how we interact with others. The likely reason that your letter generated such a reaction from the client is that he perceived that you were very intentional in setting aside time to hand-write a letter to him, and by extension this conveyed to him that you were concerned about the problems and issues he faced as a client. It's likely that this is (at least) partially why you chose to hand-write the letter, but sometimes people perceive motives from our actions simply by the shape those actions take. An email would have had the same content as a handwritten letter, but the handwritten letters conveys a sense of focus and attention to a specific situation that an email might not convey.

My question to you is: if community must look different than it did 15, 30, 60 years ago, how does that affect the most meaningful community in many peoples' lives, the church? I realize that dissertations have been written on such a topic, and it's far too big to answer in one blog post, but I'm very interested to read your thoughts.

You Asked Me How I Was Doing, Was That Some Kind of Joke?

Part XIII (Luke's Response)

Good thoughts on a new definition/kind of community. Spot on. And I agree that the catalyst has been technology, more specifically the internet. Contact with people nowadays requires zero effort and almost zero intentionality. Does this lead to "soundbite community"? Where our relationships are as shallow as our contact is short?

Though it's tempting, I can't in good conscience say that community/relationships now are less meaningful than 15, 30, 60 years ago. People are different than they used to be. I don't need to cite a source for that claim, I think everyone would agree. Technology has changed us, such that for the function community served 60 years ago to be served again today, community must look different.

Last week after a long series of events with a certain client, I wrote him a note thanking him for his help/patience/cooperation. He called me when he received the letter, in shock. He couldn't believe that people wrote handwritten letters anymore. Now I'm not bragging, I'm just saying I'm better than most people. But really, the fact that he was floored speaks to a change in people, and by extension a change in the way our relationships/communities look.

The Heavy Stuff Ain't Quite at Its Heaviest By the Time It Gets Out to Suburban Minneapolis

Part XII (My Response)

I've enjoyed an episode of "Lopez Tonight*." That's the first time in my whole life I've ever typed that. Thanks for sharing that moment with me.

It's pretty tough to argue with the idea that we each have our own community to isolation ratio. It's also pretty tough to argue with the idea that J.D. Salinger's was pretty heavy on the isolation and light on the community. The thing that fascinates me about Salinger is that "Catcher in the Rye" was published in 1951 when Salinger was 32. He goes on to release a few more items throughout the next twelve years, and his last published work appeared in the New Yorker in June 1965. That means that he lived almost 45 more years (almost half his life) without publishing anything else. That is what is amazing to me.

How many writers/musicians/actors/chemists/lawyers/architects/professors/doctors/etc. would receive critical acclaim in their profession 1/3rd of the way of their life, work until the 1/2 way point in their life in that same career, and then just remove themselves from that career and make no further contributions in that field?

Perhaps this ties in with our discussion about how each of us has our own isolation/community ratio, but I think that with the way that technology has changed our interactions with each other, that isolation/community shift in the world as a whole has gone towards the community side of the ledger. That's not to say, though, that the community shift I'm talking about is what people would have called "community" 30 or even 15 years ago. It's this kind of quasi-community where I'm interacting with people on a much greater frequency through avenues like Facebook, Twitter, email, text messages, or even phone calls, but all of those avenues may crowd out more conventional face to face community experiences.

*This is not even remotely true.

Remember the Promise as a Kid You Made

Part XI (Luke's Response)

Back to the isolation/community issue. I think we agree that a balance between the two is best. But I want to think longer on the subject. Especially in a post-J.D. Salinger world (as we've briefly discussed), I find the idea of hermits (hermititude?) fascinating. Although we know little of Salinger, do you imagine he achieved a balance? Or do you imagine he went off the isolation deep end?

Generally I'd claim that man exists on a level that is "natural" to him until there is impetus for change. That is to say, every man is at every moment in balance. When he encounters something causing dissonance with his held beliefs/values, he acts in accordance with what's required for him to retain balance. For example- Owen has value system ZYX. At some point in his life, he encounters W. Now it's decision time. W doesn't fit into his value system of ZYX. So he either must adopt W or disregard it. After that his balance is again achieved.

I say Salinger did in fact achieve balance, not according to you or me or this mysterious "Owen", but according to Salinger. I think his isolation/community ratio was something like 90/10, where a normal social human might be closer to 50/50, or probably more accurately 10/90.

I also think specifically one's isolation/community ratio varies with age/maturity/season-in-life, etc. We've both admitted to a felt propensity toward introversion as we age, so our I/C ratio is different now than, for example, freshmen year.

Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini. That's the first time in my whole life I've ever typed that. Thank you for sharing that moment with me.