Honest to God, the book is out there.

And why launching a book can seriously fry your brain.

Oct 18, 2024

Since I’ve been away from Substack for some weeks now, I’m not up to a full, well-thought-out essay—as I normally would do.

So here are some random ideas, just to prime the pump.

Hey, look at me!

I’ve been off doing “look at me” events in service of my book, “Honest to God.” The events themselves are fine, even enjoyable. I read sections of the book, people ask questions, we connect.

Wonderful.

But, since the word “prostitute” is no longer acceptable, you will simply have to infer that is how I view the social media activity I must engage in before an event.

So: mixed bag.

But just to show I haven’t lost my advertising chops:

Not bad for someone who is out of practice.

Football.

We cut the cable (i.e., the 284 channels of cable and live television) two years ago. We do have Sling for CNN, MSNBC, and—for science fiction—Fox. Since that time, I have not watched one football game. (Can’t—no access.) Although this roughly coincides with the New England Patriots going from THE team in the league to Pop Warner status, I haven’t missed it a bit.

Would a winning team change this?

Yes.

Podcasts and Advertising.

My favorite podcast is The Rest Is History. Advertising is, unfortunately, creeping into it (Zip Recruiter). But it comes at the beginning and at the mid-way break. So I just press the little arrow circle that forwards the audio until I’m back in the podcast.

I tried listening to “The Pivot” with Kara Swisher and Scott Galloway—both of whom I think are intelligent, thoughtful people. The first four minutes (I kept waiting for the show to start) was wall-to-wall advertising. When the show allegedly began, the hosts talked about what they had done over the weekend for the next five minutes or so.

Some part of the audience—but certainly not me—must be interested in this.

This is the equivalent to—when I was in the corporate and also in the ministerial world—”breaking into small groups.” Which, to me, always translated: Hey, I (the presenter) don’t feel like doing much right now. Why don’t you waste each other’s time for a while?”

Jeremy Irons

I just finished listening to Brideshead Revisited on Spotify, narrated by Jeremy Irons. It is exquisite. Waugh’s prose occasionally lurches into the overly precious. But the images, the descriptions, the dialogue, the characters more than make up for that. Irons voice is pitch perfect, his subtle and not-so-subtle changes to indicate character remarkable.

Yes, there is the whole redemption/Catholic theme bubbling under the surface (as popular with effete, wealthy Britons in the 1930s as nose piercings are today.) But I just tune that out. The book is about memory, and that Waugh nails.

A New Computer

I just had to retire my beloved 2017 iMac (96 Gig of RAM!) because… well, it was time. No complaints from me. It’s just that music and video programs have become so power-hungry that the 2017 can’t keep up. I purchased a Mac Studio, very sleek, very chic, very … well, hopefully to last the next seven or eight years.

Given enough time, I can solve most mid-level computer issues I run into. Even the way that Mac continues to change—every single time—how the System Preferences work. It’s like returning home and finding someone has changed rearranged all the drawers in your house. I did run into a couple of pesky problems (so far, I’m not even near finished the Great Migration) that I got stuck on.

Was there phone help? (Now, these are music applications I have paid serious money for.)

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha (wetting my pants) ha-ha-ha-ha-HA.

Live chat?

Occasionally. But live chat, with intricate computer problems (can you send those 12 screen shots, please?) is like using the Pony Express to send letters Missouri to Sacramento. It’s no fun for the horses, and it can, quite literally, eat up an entire week of afternoons.

But there is another circle of hell in this world.

Email technical help.

Think about that phrase for a second. Email technical help. While not, technically, an oxymoron, it is certainly an absurdity. We live in 2024. I spent two weeks going back and forth on email trying to solve a technical issue, with emails like this:

Think about this: it is the equivalent to using carrier pigeons to solve a computer problem.

But in the meantime, here in the Berkshires:

I got to work with a wonderful flute player, Shere Fraser, on a piece I wrote and we, together, rearranged. It’s Celtic-flavored, and harkens back to William Butler Yeats’ poem:

The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made …

Thank you for reading! Apologies in advance for typos. (I am a dyslexic proofreader!)

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