74. By the By...

Last night was another very decent sports night for me. Celtics got the split in L.A. (best we could hope for) and the Blackhawks are one win away from the Stanley Cup. Question is: If I had to choose, would I rather have the Cup or another Celtics title (Lakers loss)? Hmmmmmm...

73. Ctrl + Alt + Delete

I've done a fair bit of traveling lately. Not a legendary amount, but more than I have been doing. This means that I've been away from my disciplined space (home), eating other people's food, sleeping when and where I could, and most unfortunately, not running.

But... never fear. Unless I'm forgetting something, I'm home for the next two months without interruption. That ought to mean reading, writing, running, eating and sleeping with a much more regular frequency. I have big things planned for school. I'm trying to get off crack ice cream. My running shoes are ready to go. And I'm working my way back toward a decent bedtime.

So... Deep breath. In... Out... Reboot.

72. This Can't Be Life

As an unmarried, unchilded person, I have a tremendous amount of free time. And I spend a good bit of it thinking of what to do with myself in lieu of getting married and having children. Perhaps more than any living person I know, I am possessed with the question of what one ought properly to do with a life. How do we spend it without wasting it?

If it's possible to waste one's money, which is infinitely replaceable, it must be possible to waste one's life, which is not. And so, if a life is worth spending well, and I'm certain it is, how are we to spend it? For parents I think this question answers itself. Life begets life, and parents spend a good portion of their lives in raising their children. While I wonder if simply making more people is the whole point of life, I have to acknowledge that it's a least one helluva contribution. So... 2 points for parents.

What about the rest of us though? I could cheat and say I'll make a contribution by teaching or helping to enrich the lives of other people's children. I do plan to do those things. But I don't think that's the point. Why bother raising good people who raise good people who only raise more good people? What are they being raised to do? What are they being educated for? Why are they taught to speak? What is it that might one day be worth saying?

I have to think that the point of living isn't simply to make other living things; that the point of our existence isn't simply to ensure that we continue to exist. Human beings are uniquely capable of making and un-making the world, of leaving it differently than we found it (for better or worse), of doing things. And so what will I do?

The truth is that I have a fairly good idea why I'm here. I'm a writer. Whatever I contribute to the world will almost undoubtedly involve words printed on a page somewhere. But beyond that... beyond the work... In the day-to-day, what are we to do? How are we to breathe? How are we to live? How are we to speak and of what sorts of things? The answers to these questions feel, in a very real way, like matters of life and death.

71. The Wisdom of John Wooden

John Wooden, legendary basketball coach of UCLA, died this weekend at the age of 99. Since he was revered as much for his character as for his coaching, most of the tributes have been personal. ESPN published a list of highlights from his quotes over the years. I recommend reading the entire list. But for the hard-headed =), here are a few of my favorites:

Never mistake activity for achievement.

Adversity is the state in which man mostly easily becomes acquainted with himself, being especially free of admirers then.

Be quick, but don't hurry.

You can't live a perfect day without doing something for someone who will never be able to repay you.

A coach is someone who can give correction without causing resentment.

If you're not making mistakes, then you're not doing anything. I'm positive that a doer makes mistakes.

Don't measure yourself by what you have accomplished, but by what you should have accomplished with your ability.



Rest in peace, Coach Wooden.

70. "Sh*t... We do this every weekend."

*This post should've been written by someone else. But she's fighting her blogging destiny, so I'm writing it.*

Friday night I met the homies at a lounge in the West Loop to continue the celebration of our latest Ph.D. They had a table, and there was no cover... so far, so good.

I walk in and immediately recognize this dude I know standing inside the door. I nod and speak. No response.

Problem #1: I do not know this person. I've just seen him in so many clubs in the last 2 years that I recognized his face and thought I knew him. Conclusion: One or both of us is spending too much time in the club. I digress...

I make it over to the table, dance for a lil bit, and have a seat. "Blow the Whistle" comes on. Homie 1 and Homie 2 lose their minds and get to dancing on a leather couch in stilettos. A bad idea if you ask me, but they aren't my couches. And everyone else is doing it, so...

At this point a young woman standing behind our couch sees how much fun we're having and tells her friend "I wanna go dance with them." Her friend tries to discourage her, but she's determined. And since I dig the communal party experience (some of my best moments in the club have come dancing with strangers... I see you, Chic From Le Passage), I smile at her, effectively giving her the Okay. And she makes her way over. At this point we encounter...

Problem #2: This chic is wasted. Grown and wasted. After I put my hand out to keep her from falling on her *ss, she spends 20 minutes thanking me, telling me how well I was raised, how much she appreciates black women being able to support each other, how she wants us to be friends in real life, how she's gonna "be somebody" in Chicago politics, and how if I ever need anything I can call her. Yes, everyone in the club is drinking, but I figure the acceptability of being that drunk in public falls off exponentially by the year after age 26. But I digress...

Sometime after chic makes her exit, Homie 1 leans over and speaks my mind. "The folks in this club are like 27." I had estimated 25-32. It was not a young crowd. It was the kinda crowd where you have to wonder how many folks in the room wouldn't rather be booed up in sweats and a t-shirt, sitting on the couch watching SVU. Instead of being in the club looking for someone to get booed up with. It was the kinda crowd where you couldn't help but think, "Is this really what we do? Are we really still doing this?"

By the end of night, I estimated that I have maybe 2 or 3 more nights in the club left in me. And those will likely be spread out over the next couple years. Nothing to be sad about, I did my club days proud. And I have the Facebook photo albums to prove it =). Just can't do it like I used to. Can't say that I want to.

69. Heavy Rotation

Ladies and Gentlemen, I proudly present to you... When Your Life Was Low by Lalah Hathaway and Joe Sample. This is one of those songs you only ever happen upon by accident, but that instantly becomes an indispensable part of your musical life. One of my classmates was playing it when I stopped by her apartment years ago. I do not own a single other Lalah Hathaway song and I don't know who Joe Sample is. This song though... I've never heard anything like it. The way it dances the border between beautiful and bitter. I kinda love it.

Although I never hear from you, still it's nice to know... You used to love me so. When your life was low.

68. The Last Best Post on Marriage

Yes: I am almost thirty.

No: I do not give a smidge about marriage.

No: I do not believe there is a "crisis" of unmarried black woman and/or unavailable black men and/or black men who only want to date non-black women (although I am not a fan of the last one and wish we would learn to problematize and politicize how we view sexual attraction, beauty, love AND marriage since both have been problems and political since, oh yeah, slavery)

Yes: I am an enterprise and I am working on building myself up. Me. Not me plus one.

Yes: I still realize that I am almost thirty. Thirty is a number.

No: I do not want to discuss any of the above with any of my friends, colleagues, family members or even my partner ever again. We have hashed and rehashed the topic, we have circulated articles and YouTube videos and we have successfully used this subject as a foil for all other meaningful conversation.

This is the Last Best Post on Marriage. I mean really...is there anything left to say? Can we talk about the oil spill now?