Looking Forward to Today

"Apparently there is nothing that cannot happen today." -Mark Twain

  

Life is river.  It is always moving.  It is always unexpected, and something new is around every bend, but watch out.  River water can be dangerous.  Hidden hazards lie in wait under the water.  Sometimes, the river is so frightening that would-be travelers stay on shore.  Unfortunately, many securely tie up their boat to the wharf and hunker down.

 

For the person willing to launch out into mid stream, it is quite a ride.  Adventure awaits us all if we venture downstream, and something amazing will happen today.  If we watch, we may even see it.  Last summer, I met a man who had just retired.  He had enjoyed a very successful career of 35 years.  He was respected in his organization.  He was often asked to speak as an expert.  He confided to me, "I was very happy."  He enjoyed the river for many years.

 

Now, in retirement he seems lost.  Each morning he gets up, lets the dog out, and tries to think of something to do.  He has no place he needs to be.  He is financially secure and appears to be the success most Americans aspire to achieve.  Henry David Thoreau once wrote, "Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after."

 

When I see a man or woman with joy launching into the river for another day, I see a person of passion.  At this point in my life I have found that life is about the exploration.  It is about being open to the surprises the river has in store.  I am looking forward to today. 

Thinking About Age

"Age is an issue of mind over matter, if you don't mind, it doesn't matter". -Mark Twain

I have had a great day exploring what for me is an unexplored section of the Mississippi River south of St. Louis.  I have visited St. Mary, Kaskaskia, and the city of Ste. Genevieve.   This area was La France before President Thomas Jefferson purchased it from Napoleon.  Kaskaskia was captured by George Rogers Clark and his 175 Virginians in 1778.  I am surrounded by the past, by age, by history today.

I also watched two bald eagles down on the levee.  These magnificent birds are so graceful in the air and so majestic.  I stood for a long time and watched them soar.  It was a omen for the rest of my birthday.

I have enjoyed exploring the past and also thinking about age.  I have thought a great deal about the age of things.  Some things are better with aged spots.  Antiques of all types are valued.  Perhaps, we should value age in the human being a bit more.  Life experience could be of value in 2011. 

Many of my friends fear growing older.  I never have.  Perhaps this is because as an actor I get to move on to better roles on stage.  Perhaps it is because my gray hair has been an asset for me.  Maybe I am just a little crazy, but today is my birthday, and I am happy to be alive.  I enjoy my life.  I take great pleasure in moving on to more interesting projects this year.  I am blessed.

Like everything else in life, age is mind over matter.  I don't mind at all so it just doesn't matter.

People Watching

"A round man cannot be expected to fit in a square hole right away. He must have time to modify his shape." -Mark Twain

A very good friend gave us two $140 tickets to the St. Louis Blues game last night.  They were a birthday present.  Of course, I have already been celebrating for some time.  I do a Birth Month.  A day is such a short span of time.

I hadn't noticed the ticket price until I was seated on the front row right behind the glass in the Scott Trade Center.  It was enjoyable watching the Blues dominate the Ducks with a 9 to 3 final score.  It was so much better up close and personal.  Hockey is not my number one sport, but I enjoyed every part of the exciting game.  By the way, Mark Twain used to take to the ice on Bear Creek and the Mississippi River when he was a boy.  By all accounts he was very good.

The game was great, but I was also able to pursue my favorite hobby--people watching.  As a stage actor, I must do it.  People are required reading for all actors.  It is impossible to play real people without careful observation, and once you start, you can't stop.  It is downright addictive.

People are the most interesting creatures.  I am able to practice this pasttime anywhere, anytime, any day.  Therefore, I love airports.  The dramas that play out there are both comic and full of pathos.  Malls, stores, and supermarkets are full of human comedy and drama.  Now after last night, one of my favorite observation posts is a hockey game.

Where could you find thousands of people all proudly wearing the same shirt?  Where can you find normally sane parents standing up and screaming "Kill him" at a fight on the ice.  During the week Harvey is a non-violent man.  On hockey nights all bets are off.  At least that was my obervation.

Great theater also unfolds as guys stroll in with a trophy date.  You can get a lot of street cred if you make the right entrance with the right woman.  At least that is also my observation.  In addition, a few rebels swim up stream as Ducks in a Blue's stream.  You can't have drama without controversy.

We all modify our shapes.  We all play our parts.  Shakespeare asserted that "All the world's a stage." T. S. Eliot, another St. Louis observer, wrote, "We put on a face to meet the faces that we meet."  What strange creatures we humans are.  How great to be able to watch the show!

Murder?

“If the desire to kill and the opportunity to kill came always together, who would escape hanging?”  - Mark Twain, Following the Equator

Anything goes these days.  Half the population seems to take pride in flying their freak flags.  We have all known individuals who are just a little eccentric.  I know a man who refuses to use a fork.  For him, everything goes down easy with a spoon.  I am acquainted with a young man who has given up completely on deodorant.  He declares, “Deodorant is just not natural for the human being, and the aluminum causes all sorts of health problems.” 

The internet has also performed a great disservice.  All the crazies can form an international support group and encourage each other.  We even have a cable show now on weird obsessions.  Excuse me, I cannot watch.  I am good with whatever you want to do that does not hurt others, but just don’t tell me about it.  I love my ignorance.

Since anything does go these days, someone always carries a good thing too far.  Have you encountered something so offensive that for a moment you . . .  For example, I don’t know why but once upon a time I got up early for one of those “once in a lifetime sale” events.  It was a mistake, and I solemnly promise to never do it again.  I watched in horror as fashionable ladies and distinguished gentlemen morphed into savages.  They grabbed and tugged and rampaged through the store like pirates attacking a defenseless merchant ship.  When it was all over, the store was wrecked, and bargains were toted off in triumph.  I was horrified.  I did not buy a single item, but I watched an amazing demonstration of human nature.

Anything goes, but some behaviors are so disgusting that no punishment seems appropriate.  Last week a young friend of mine was on her way to her downtown job.  She explains that public transportation in New York, Boston, and Chicago uses plastic seats that can be easily scanned for bio hazards.  St. Louis seats are problematic.  When she sat down for her morning ride, she unknowingly sat in the urine left by the previous rider.  Suddenly, the desire to kill took control, and we all have to admit that she had every right to seek justice.  Alas, the culprit had fled, but if he had been available, another crime would certainly have been committed.  Any court on earth would have ruled not guilty by right of self defense.

Perhaps, anything goes is not such a good idea.  Your Mom may have been on to something when she said, “Sit up straight and behave yourself.”

Just the Facts II

"How empty is theory in the presence of fact!" -Mark Twain, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court

Common sense is extremely uncommon.  Most of us carry with us a strange mixture of fact and fiction.  Some things we believe to be true are just theories.  Some of our basic foundational understandings are nothing but pure speculation.

Ask any religious person—Muslim, Jew, Christian—if God exists.  Almost unanimously, the believer will say “Absolutely.”  In fact, many will take offense that you asked, but God’s existence is a theory.  God cannot fit inside a test tube or be confined to a scientific study.  There is powerful evidence of intelligent design in our universe, but no hard, undeniable facts.  Therefore, the believer has faith, and faith is a marvelous thing.

I remember my Mom and my Aunt Lois always said, “Put your coat on.  I don’t want you to catch a cold.”  They believed, and I came to believe that overexposure to the cold would make me sick.  We were all wrong.  It’s the exposure to disease and the lowering of my body’s defenses that do the damage.  If we repeat a lie long enough, we believe it is true.

In the political arena I hear dozens of theories about getting our national house in order.  Everybody agrees that the national debt is a nation killer.  Everybody wants economic growth.  How do we do it?  How can we separate fact from fiction when the budget is in the trillions of dollars and is published in a fat book with hundreds of pages.  It boggles the mind.

Does the Congress of the United States pass laws on theory or fact?  Do government officials govern with common sense?  Do our representatives even read the bills they vote into law?  Sorry, too many rhetorical questions for one blog.  After all, Mark Twain said, “Congress is the only permanent criminal class we have in this country.”

Just think of all the hard issues we face today.  It is amazing and terrifying to consider how ignorant we are of the facts.  We bring a boatload of our prejudices, misinformation, pet theories, vague feelings, and fears to the table.  We use almost no factual information as we make decisions about crime and punishment, American education reform, health care legislation, saving Social Security, energy independence, and social justice.  And that’s a fact.

   ...if you are going to find out the facts of a thing, what's the sense in guessing out what ain't the facts and wasting ammunition? I didn't lose no sleep.  - Mark Twain,Tom Sawyer, Detective

Just the Facts

"Get your facts first, and then you can distort them as much as you please." -Mark Twain quoted by Rudyard Kipling in From Sea to Shining Sea

It may be just me, but I believe that we live in a world of wishful thinking.  We wish we could live in a non-violent world.  We wish children were not abused.  We wish we could lose ten pounds.  We wish we could celebrate the day when the last smoker grinds out his last cigarette.  We wish . . .

But it seems to me that in our wishing and hoping, we tend to ignore the building blocks of all theories--the facts.  The lowly fact today gets lost in the mountain of data we produce each minute of every hour of every day.  The data mounts, but often the fact gets lost.  Isn't it time that we like Joe Friday in the classic television drama Dragnet started saying, "Just the facts Ma'am.  Just the facts."

Like a needle in a haystack as high as Everest, we cannot hope to ferret out the proven or provable fact.  Buried somewhere in the pile of dirt is the gold.  Somewhere in there is the fact on which we can rely.  Somewhere, the proverbial kernel of truth lies under all the trash.

It reminds me of the wisdom of the young.  When my daughter Ariel and son Skye were pre-schoolers, Skye asked his mom, “Where do babies come from Mommy?”  Patricia had prepared for this moment and launched into a lengthy explanation when Ariel clamped both hands over both ears and pleaded, “Don’t tell us Mom.  We’re too young!”

Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men is famous for his superb delivery of “You can’t handle the truth.”  Perhaps this is true today.  We hold our unexamined theories tightly.  We cherish our ideas.  We join our political parties and choose our church and sign up to support our favorite cause.  We do a lot of wishful thinking, but we do not want to hear the facts. 

"How empty is theory in the presence of fact!"-Mark Twain, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court
 

On Making Plans

"There are two times in a man's life when he should not speculate: when he can't afford it,

and when he can." -Mark Twain, Following the Equator, Pudd'nhead Wilson's New Calendar

Yesterday, I drove my blue Grand Caravan from St. Louis to Hannibal.  As the miles rolled by, I watched the digital temperature drop from 50 to 41 degrees.  The snow cover had almost melted in the city.   In Northeast Missouri a lot of snow remains.  My porch, front steps, and sidewalks all look a bit worse for the winter wear they endured over the past weeks.  Everything seems to be tired of winter.

I had planned to check on everything and then run errands.  I had my list.  I had my priorities. I had plans.  My next two days were scheduled, and then life happened.  I used to say to my students “Life is what happens when you are making other plans.”  Every year I live seems to prove the statement more true.

My Hannibal plans quickly changed when I discovered that the bitter cold had found another victim—my water pipes.  When I turned the water back on, I heard the leaks.  And so, repairs must be made.  It reminds me that everything is always leaning toward disintegration.  We must constantly struggle to ward it off.  By care and hard work we keep the old stone wall standing another season, but sooner or later it will come down.

Even in the human arena, the struggle for stability is intense.  For example, some of us humans work very hard to keep our health.  We try to eat right, we exercise regularly, and we practice preventative medicine.  Sometimes, we do everything right, and it all goes wrong.  Sometimes, life happens when we are not looking.  Sometimes, we are just puzzled by it all.

Five weeks ago, I woke up with plans.  I had finished packing my bags, had gotten everything ready including myself, and had taken the elevator down to my van six floors below.  I had travel plans.  I placed my bags behind the rear seat and hopped into the front seat to find wires sticking out of the steering column.  During the night a person or persons unknown had tried to hotwire my vehicle.  Grand Caravans have a kill switch so the attempted theft was only an attempt, but my steering column had been destroyed, and the van was not usable. 

Thanks to Geico and a very pleasant repair experience, I was back on the road in four days.  The van is now good to go, but I have been altered somehow.  Now I do not jump into the driver seat with the same expectations.  Now I tend to hesitate.  Now I wonder if my plans are just that—plans.  Now I hesitate for just a moment with my life on hold.  Now I am reminded that life with all its uncertainty is always making other plans.  Sometimes, we can afford it; sometimes, we can't.

"When you fish for love, bait with your heart, not your brain." -Mark Twain, Notebook, 1898

Yesterday, I reluctantly ventured out to some stores around St. Louis.  I had a few purchases to make, and it was a beautiful day to be out and about.  Not having considered the danger of Valentine's Day shopping, I was unprepared.  At least half the shoppers had a surprised, uncertain look in their eyes.  Some actually showed panic if not fear.  Obviously, love can be a dangerous game.

A young black man in a hoody asked my opinion at a sidewalk flower display.  He held up two choices--a dozen red roses and a large mixed variety.  "What do you think?" he asked. 

"It's hard to go wrong with red roses." I suggested. 

His young face turned into a huge smile, and he sighed.  "I don't know nothing about flowers. "

"Men never do, but it comes with the territory.  How long have you been going out?" I asked.

"Two months.  So I better get this one right." he looked like a drowning man looking for anything to grab in these deep waters.

"Get the roses and a little box of chocolates.  Then write her a letter." I suggested.

"A letter?" he barked like it was the craziest idea ever.

"The roses will eventually wilt, and she will eat the chocolates.  The letter will be here long after we are gone." I said.

"Thanks man." my young friend said with a smile as he stepped into the checkout line with his red roses.  "A letter!" he laughed, "Alright."

As I walked on down the street, I thought about the love letter I found last summer in an antique store.  Stuck between some old photographs, it had waited patiently for readers since June 12, 1893, the date at the top.  It started "Dear Sarah." It was a very intense letter from a young man on holiday to Niagra Falls in 1893, but he had been separated from his sweetheart.  He poured out his longing and hopes.  He told her about his dreams and fears.  He pledged his love in ink on paper.  And there it was after all those long years in my hands in 2010.

I wonder if Robert and Sarah's love endured.  I wonder if they were able to be together.  I wonder how many times Sarah read and reread those words.  I couldn't help wondering about their story.  It reminded me of Mark Twain's statement:  

"The frankest and freest product of the human mind and heart is a love letter; the writer gets his limitless freedom of statement and expression from his sense that no stranger is going to see what he is writing." - Mark Twain's Autobiography

 Today, I think about all that frantic activity yesterday.  I think about the consuming desire to purchase the "perfect" Valentine gift.  In the era of texting and twitter I think about the enduring grandeur of the word on paper.  I think about the sensual pleasure of applying ink to paper of putting thoughts into words of putting dreams into language, and I think--What could be better?

Inhabiting Different Worlds

I am sitting in the Central West End of old St. Louis with the apartment window open.  The morning light is muted and blends with bird songs.  The birds seem pleased that most of the ice has melted already, and we are all expecting a high of 64 today.  I watched a murder of crows flying north when I took the dog out at 6.  Right now, I am looking at the dome of the St. Louis Basilica.  The huge cathedral dominates the window space.  The February sun is backlighting the green dome as I watch the west side.  The cross on top of the dome is black against a cloudy sky.  It's Valentine's Day in St. Louis, and all is well. 

This city scape out my window reminds me of the different worlds I inhabit.  I love the history and ambiance of the Central West End.  We walk to everything here including the gym, the bank, Straub's market, great restaurants, and Chase Cinemas.  It is a world of beautiful old houses and store fronts, art galleries, and antique marts.  Last week, I crunched through the snow and stood in front of the "Menagerie House" on Westminster.  Tennessee Williams lived there as a boy and found inspiration there for The Glass Menagerie.  One day we walked over to Forest Park and hiked to the Missouri Historical Society. There is something basic and sensual about walking.  Perhaps that is the reason most writers do a lot of walking.  It's a great way to get in touch.  With what?  With everything!

Tomorrow, I will drive to another world in Hannibal.  Located about 100 miles north of St. Louis, Hannibal is the boyhood home of Mark Twain.  Over eight years ago we purchased our house and theater in this special place.  My house was built in 1861.  My theater was built originally as a barn/livery stable in 1849.  Living and working in Hannibal is like being immersed in the long-ago.  I see the past around every corner and every day.  When I am rehearsing a show or working on a stage set, I think of the many who have walked through that old building including Mr. Abraham Lincoln, Samuel Clemens, Thomas Hart Benton, Sam Bowen, and unnamed slaves who sat there waiting for sale.  Today, I am just the current caretaker.  We call it the Planters Barn Theater.

As a writer, I inhabit an additional world.  Over the past year I have been writing Mark Twain's Last Summer, a novel about Twain's last summer in Hannibal in 1861, the year my house was built.  Every day in my mind I journey into the world of stern-wheeler steamboats pouring smoke out of their chimneys, of steam railroad engines spewing steam and soot as they puff smoke and chug out of the station, of horse-drawn trolleys moving down the center of brick streets, and of high-stepping carriage horses boucing down a lane.  After a while, this world becomes real and tangible and takes on flesh and blood.  It has been an exciting journey of discovery.  I just finished the last chapter on Friday.  Today, I start the process of re-writing and getting ready to share. 

As a stage actor who has played Mark Twain for over 30 years, I get to share the fun of the 100-year-old Mark Twain Show with audiences in 2011.  This stage world is sheer joy for me, and I will share more in the future.   In the glow of the stage lights I discover a new world over and over again.

The blog "All Things Mark Twain" is my forum to share these different worlds.  I will write about writing.  I will write about St. Louis and Hannibal and the stage.  I plan to write about Mark Twain's very relevant views on travel, money, friendship, politics, foreign policy, humor, and many more.  If you have a question or favorite topic, let me know.  Sooner or later, we will get to your issue.  Until then, I will happily inhabit my different worlds.