Warren Bluhm's Blog, page 8

Freedom is not for the faint of heart

You are free to shout “fire” in a crowded theater. All you have to do is be prepared to accept the consequences — for example, time in jail or prison, and/or civil suits by people injured in the ensuing panic, or their survivors.

You are free to blame a madman’s actions on your political adversaries. All you have to do is be prepared to accept the consequences — for example, looking like a damn fool when the madman’s friends confirm he was apolitical and paid no attention to your adversar...

Take up the tools of creation

© Luis Francisco Cordero | Dreamstime.com

He sat in his chair, trying to be creative, but the duties of his day job kept pressing against his consciousness. A memo left unfinished – a report left unread – It was difficult to concentrate on creating new worlds when the real world kept calling.

The doubt birds kept calling: “You can’t – you shouldn’t – no time for that – no talent – no discipline – you can’t – you can’t you can’t you can’t.”

“No,” he said, not sure he believed himself. “I...

Gasoline still costs 34.9 cents a gallon

© Joop Kleuskens | Dreamstime.com

I don’t know why this is my most vivid childhood memory regarding the price of gas. Brains are funny devices that way.

It was a summer evening, I think, early in my career as a driver, and I had a dollar in my pocket. I pulled into Serbe’s gas station in my then-hometown of Chester, New Jersey, and realized that at 33.9 cents a gallon, maybe 25 miles per gallon, I could drive all over northern New Jersey for that buck if I wanted that night. Ah, the freedo...

The parable of the four lights

 © Mr. Namart Pieamsuwan | Dreamstime.com

It feels like an act of daring to go ahead 

and live what would have been a normal life two years ago,

To take the risk of walking out the front door,

knowing you could hit a deer or get hit by a car yourself

or catch a bad cold or otherwise encounter, at last,

Whatever it is you’re going to die of.

•

All this second-guessing of what to say

And what to do, instead of living.

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I want to live.

I want to enjoy the time t...

Object permanence

He was a simple man, or so he liked to think. He thought he was one of those guys who is born, lives for a bunch of years, and then dies without making an appreciable mark on the universe, one of those guys like the billions who had come before and the billions who would follow. Then he met his guardian angel.

“What, you wish you’d never been born?” The angel said. “I suppose I can arrange that.”

And just like that, the whole universe blinked out of existence.

“Yeah, right,” the simple ...

A dig through the clutter

There is a moment when you look around the mess and say, “OK, enough!” Except when it happens several times a day, you get fatigued. “OK, enough,” and then what? This, that, and the other thing. Here we go, heave ho, here we go, heave ho …

What did I write to myself the 10-20 previous times I threw up my hands and said, “No more clutter!”? Ya gotta wonder. My hero Ray Bradbury just smiled and said, “Look, all my stuff is within reach, what shall I write about next?” Maybe I should try tha...

W.B.’s Book Report: Several Short Sentences About Writing

If you’ve been reading this blog since Thursday, a thought may have occurred to you:

“I wonder if he’s been reading Several Short Sentences About Writing.”

It’s a little book, written by Verlyn Klinkenborg, about the power and purpose of sentences.

Click on the cover for the link.

One way he makes his point is by making virtually every sentence its own paragraph.

You see, if you’d read the book, why these last several blog posts might give you that thought.

Any written work is ...

What darkness?

© Sasinparaksa | Dreamstime.com

It’s all in our minds, you know.

This world, this existence, this life, is all so breathtakingly beautiful that we are overcome.

And so, we find ways to reduce the enormity.

We glaze our eyes over. 

We divert our attention.

We fuss among ourselves.

We deliberately seek ugliness, and darkness, and what hurts.

And so, we miss the obvious.

This is obviously a huge, beautiful world in a universe of infinite and unspeakable grandeur.

Our m...

Melody

Forest Chapel © Serban Enache | Dreamstime.com

I went for a walk and came upon a stone chapel in the woods. 

A young man was playing a guitar, and people were sitting on the floor and up in the balcony, smiling and drifting to the music.

It was a song of peace and reaching out in the darkness. 

It was a song of hope and people finally getting together. 

The song reached across space and time. 

The song echoed against the stone walls and reverberated through the years.

And ye...

Anthem

There is such beauty in the world, such innocence, so much that is miraculous.

It’s almost, I don’t know, criminal that we focus on anything but.

We log onto social media spoiling for a fight, daring the rest of the world to offend us.

We fill the airwaves with the latest reports of humanity’s inhumanity.

“Be afraid. Be very afraid. If the sky is not falling today, then the forecast is grim for the weekend.”

Why not seek out peace? Why not see the yearning for comfort in the e...