Horton Deakins's Blog, page 15

My first poetry reading

I finally finished recording and editing my first poetry reading, and I have uploaded the result to YouTube.  It is entitled,

The Host of the Air

by William Butler Yeats.

I hope you like it.

My Interview at the 2012 SoonerCon 21

I just found my interview on a podcast from the SoonerCon 21 sci-fi convention (2012).   I have asked the producers of “Two Average Dicks” if I might publish just my portion of their interview, and they said it was OK under two conditions:  1) I provide a link to their site, and 2) I warn people that their conversation (during portions of the podcast) is intended for adult audiences.  And they mean it.  Here is their link, and I am 52 minutes into the interview: Two Average Dicks . Be forewarned, though–some of the podcast is geared for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY, but not my portion of the interview.  I’ll try to post just my part on my Website, but I’m not sure if I can find a codec to convert the MP4 file.  I’ll see what I can do–I am a software professional, by the way—but I won’t fix your computer.

UPDATE:  I have succeeded in extracting just my part of the interview, edited it to remove some of the background noise, and published it on the interview page of my Website.

 

 

Ugh! I sound awful in a recording.

I just found my interview on a podcast from the SoonerCon 21 sci-fi convention (2012).  Boy, do I need to work on my diction if I’m going to do a poetry reading!  I can barely understand what I was saying, unlike the young woman who followed me in the interviews.  Her voice was sharp and clear, but it had been so long since I had heard her speak I was taken aback at how young she sounded.  I would have guessed about thirteen, but I know for a fact that she’s six years older!  If only you saw how she writes, though (she’s a published author), you might think she was a contemporary (and competitor of) of J. K. Rowling.  But no.  Just a college student.  Amazing—blows me away.  I never even heard of anyone in college like that.  Makes me feel small, impotent. Must be what they’re feeding the kids these days. I certainly can’t keep up with the young people.  What?  I didn’t tell you who it was?  Of course not.  This is my blog, and I don’t need the competition.  Besides, I have a bad habit of getting into trouble every time I open my mouth, so I think it best to let the reader figure it out—pretty soon, though, she’s going to be a household name anyway, so none of this will matter.  But I did read her book, and it was awesome.  And I got an autographed copy.  I am so envious, and I will be looking for the sequel—all four of them.  In fact, if I have to compete with the likes of her, I’m just going to give up.

OK, I have asked the producers of “Two Average Dicks” if I might publish just my portion of their interview, and they said it was OK under two conditions:  1) I provide a link to their site, and 2) I warn people that their conversation (during portions of the podcast) is intended for adult audiences.  And they mean it.  Here is their link, and I am 52 minutes into the interview: Two Average Dicks . Be forewarned, though–some of the podcast is geared for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY.  I’ll try to post just my part on my Website, but I’m not sure if I can find a codec to convert the MP4 file.  I’ll see what I can do–I am a software professional, by the way—but I won’t fix your computer.

 

 

Coming soon: A reading of “The Host of the Air”

“The Host of the Air” is a poem by renowned Irish poet, William Butler Yeats.  I first heard this poem back in the mid sixties on an Irish folksong record called, “The Clancy Brothers and Tommy Makem at Carnegie Hall.”  I think it was read by Tommy Makem, who has since passed away.  Many years ago, I used to try to recite the poem with him as I listened to the cassette in my car.  I just loved the way it sounded.  I tried to memorize all the songs on the album, but some were difficult because they were in Gaelic.

Very soon, I am going to attempt to record myself reciting this poem.  I’ll make it into a YouTube video and add some still shots to it with some transitions. I fear what it will sound like though, because we always sound better in our own minds than we do on recordings.  I’ll just keep trying until I get an acceptable copy, though, so be looking for it!

Here is a preview:

THE HOST OF THE AIR

by: William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

O’DRISCOLL drove with a song
The wild duck and the drake
From the tall and the tufted reeds
Of the drear Hart Lake.
And he saw how the reeds grew dark
At the coming of night-tide,
And dreamed of the long dim hair
Of Bridget his bride.
He heard while he sang and dreamed
A piper piping away,
And never was piping so sad,
And never was piping so gay.
And he saw young men and young girls
Who danced on a level place,
And Bridget his bride among them,
With a sad and a gay face.
The dancers crowded about him
And many a sweet thing said,
And a young man brought him red wine
And a young girl white bread.
But Bridget drew him by the sleeve
Away from the merry bands,
To old men playing at cards
With a twinkling of ancient hands.
The bread and the wine had a doom,
For these were the host of the air;
He sat and played in a dream
Of her long dim hair.
He played with the merry old men
And thought not of evil chance,
Until one bore Bridget his bride
Away from the merry dance.
He bore her away in his arms,
The handsomest young man there,
And his neck and his breast and his arms
Were drowned in her long dim hair.
O’Driscoll scattered the cards
And out of his dream awoke:
Old men and young men and young girls
Were gone like a drifting smoke;
But he heard high up in the air
A piper piping away,
And never was piping so sad,
And never was piping so gay.

Mortality wake-up call

Last evening, we visited my wife’s cousin in the Oklahoma City Heart Hospital.  He had just gotten a stint in his heart.  It wasn’t his first, and he has to go back in a couple of weeks for another.  He is eight years my junior.

Yesterday morning, as I was doing two miles on the treadmill, I bumped up the speed and  broke into a jog.  I hadn’t jogged since sometime before 2001, when I had my knee surgery.  Now, it didn’t bother my knees in the least, which surprised me quite a bit.  My pulse reached 168, however, which I realized was a higher rate than I should try to maintain for any length of time at my *ugh* age.  So I slowed it down.

Then there was the hospital visit.  How fragile we humans are, I thought.  While we were standing in the hospital room, talking, I started getting pangs of pain in my lower right side.  I thought the source was internal, but later in the evening, and especially confirmed now, I realized I had pulled muscles as I tried to do too much, too fast, on the treadmill.  On one hand, I feel extreme pressure to burn the blubber to get myself healthy, but on the other hand, I have to make sure I don’t kill myself in the process.  At this point, I think I would still require a coffin with an extra-heavy-duty bottom and additional handles for more pallbearers, so the whole thing would be rather counter-productive, don’t you think?  I should probably get a heart scan soon.

As motivated as I am by the image of a basketball under my shirt when I look in the mirror, I know the mid-body fat, the part everyone wants to lose first, will necessarily go last, and that process can’t be rushed without it being unhealthy.  Hmmm… there’s always liposuction, eh?  Verrückt, nicht wahr?

Bloody Vikings!

I was chastised for my rather ominous facebook image, so this is what I substituted:

Me, in first grade

The photo shows a bit of my bloody Viking heritage–which I didn’t know I had until I did a DNA test. Anyway, this school picture was taken somewhere around the time that I contracted encephalitis and was in a coma for a week. No one thought I would make it, but I fooled them all. I remember sitting in the recovery area of the Childrens’ Hospital, watching daytime westerns: Whiplash, Wagon Train, Death Valley Days, Rawhide, and some Texas Rangers show, where the the theme song had the words, “This is the story of 26 men….”

I did say, “daytime” westerns, did I not?  Well, I’m sure I had lost all track of time, so I can’t guarantee all of them were on in the daytime.  They probably had the TV off and the lights out fairly early, though.

A new personal record for me

Here’s another entry in my continuing saga of my physical rehabilitation.  I say that a bit tongue-in-cheek, since I’ve been working on the downhill side of my weight and fitness for the better part of thirty years—nothing here due to a recent injury or anything like that.  Yes, I am having to contend with warring factions within my body, not the least of which is an auto-immune problem for which there is no cure, plus other issues that appear to be completely genetic in origin, but hey, we all have things to overcome.

My weight has been holding steady at about 210 for the past few days, but, for the first time in well over thirty years, I walked three and a half miles at one time!  I think the last time I went that far may have been when I was in my early twenties, living in central Dallas.  There was a track nearby, so I went there to run and jog.

I found I was disappointed with my speed, though, because when I was twelve I could outrun all but the fastest of the other boys.  That was merely because, as it turns out, I had nearly 99% of my full height by the time I was eleven.  I won’t go into the reason for that, but it’s apparently was due to the same thing that caused my arm span to be greater than my height, and it had nothing to do with an early puberty.  Anyhow, I the fastest I could make a quarter mile was 1.5 minutes.  That was a dead-out sprint, so I collapsed at the end and could not have kept up that pace.

After I moved, there was no track nearby, so I didn’t run anymore.  I spent a short time studying in an “American” karate dojo, but the style was too different from the Okinawan style I was used to, so I was very awkward.  I got my nose broken there by an obnoxious black belt who had a school in Denton and he was in Dallas visiting, so after my injury I quit going there.  Gee, I wonder if it was because he was embarrassed that a “white belt” could kick him up against the wall?  Go figure.  I didn’t get my nose fixed for 30 years, and it has caused me untold problems.  This episode didn’t end my efforts at exercise, by any means, but by the time I was in my early thirties my health really started to decline.

I am pumped right now, though, which explains this long post.  I’ve only been increasing my activity level for several months now, and I’ve only been restricting my caloric intake for about a month, but my weight has dropped 11.75% and I feel sooooo much better already.  I’ve been carrying the better part of 100 pounds of body fat, and it’s high time I cut it loose.  I am hopeful that this will eventually cure my sleep apnea so I won’t have to wear a mask strapped to my face all night just to make sure I stay alive.  Three and a half miles in just over an hour!  Woo-hoo!  Almost ready for the Boy Scouts! (wait–I may be too old.  Oh, grits.)

Naginata humor

A naginata is a Japanese spear, although it is more like a short, curved sword attached to the end of a pole.  I found a site that had these cartoons, so I thought I’d share.

All right, I know what you’re thinking.  The average American is not going to get this—it’s in Japanese, for Pete’s sake.  Tetsudatte, kudasai!  That means, “Please help.”  So I will.  Here is what the cartoon figure is writing on the naginata: “This is my naginata.”

Get it?

I think I have broken the “death cycle”

I saw something this morning I haven’t seen in years … 210 on the scales!  That’s about 28 lbs down from my peak, give or take.  I’m going to have to take a link out of my watchband, and my pants are starting to get baggy, so if I can keep this up, I’ll have to get new clothes.  My health is already improving, and I’ve been able to cut back on some arthritis and BP meds.

I’ve gone from being able to do zero pushups to as many as eighteen, and from struggling to walk across a parking lot to doing over two miles at a time.  Still, I have a long way to go… and I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep.  (— Robert Frost)

Now, how to tackle that last 40 lbs… but do I speak impossibilities?

Yoisho!

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