Yesterday, when I asked a question on Twitter (Question: Why change a well-established and friendly brand name like Twitter to something like “X”?), somebody called me “Question Diva.”
.
I like the title “Question Diva” because, indeed, I have lots of questions, including
Why is there so much inhumanity in the world?
What can I do about it?
How do people stay sane amid all the insanity?
How can we work together to save ourselves?
.
Last night, Question Diva talked to her show biz coach about how difficult it was to ask questions when she suspected the answer would be “no.” So we role-played my asking an amazing musician to play with me on my album of original songs, with my coach responding both positively and negatively. Question Diva now feels better equipped to ask those kinds of questions.
Question Diva would now like to ask you to look at her other images for today.
.
Here and now, Question Diva has these questions;
Why was it so difficult for me to upload those images into this blog post?
My fun facts for today include the fact that The Russian Tea Room in NYC has four floors that hold hidden treasures like a giant glass bear that has fish swimming inside it. I know this fun fact because my friends and fellow group therapists Jen and Patty saw that after I left the restaurant early last night because I was tuckered out after a too-full day with too-little sleep.
Fun fact: Stephen Colbert answers questions from the audience before every show taping, which yesterday included a reveal of the many pencils he throws around as a homage to his admired talk show predecessors David Letterman and Johnny Carson.
You’re bound to discover other fun facts if you click on the links I’ve embedded on this post so far. (Fun fact: when I type “fun facts” it often comes out as “fun cats.”)
Do you see fun facts in the images I captured yesterday?
.
Here’s the first thing I find when I search for “fun facts” on YouTube:
Thanks to all who help me share fun facts in this daily blog, including YOU!
Two daysago, in my “Defining Moments” blog post, I declared my intention to commit to coasting after 70 years of climbing.
What do I mean by coasting? I mean I’m going to stop trying so hard to get everything right and I’m going to enjoy the ride more. It means that I’m going to believe that over my life I’ve built up enough energy and accomplishments to just let go and say “wheeeee! as I go coasting along. Coasting means that I stop worrying about what other people think or anything else, for that matter.
Coasting doesn’t mean that I stop trying; it just means that I really commit in a new way to an old resolution — to lose my investment in the outcome while remaining present and committed to the process.
Coasting sounds like more fun, doesn’t it? Let’s check out a definition of “coasting.”
As Mel Brooks might say, sorry about the word “creep.” Do you see coasting in my images for today?
.
Sounds like a good day to be coasting, doesn’t it? Here’s what I find when I search for “coasting” on YouTube.
I look forward to your coasting comments, below.
Thanks to all who are coasting together with me, here and now, including YOU.
When you’re feeling down, know that you’re not alone.
When you’re feeling down, remember that you’ve felt down before and made it through.
When you’re feeling down, resist the temptation to get down on yourself and beat yourself up.
When I’m feeling down, I share my heart with people I trust, observe what’s around me, set an achievable goal, access good memories, and get in touch with humor.
When you’re feeling down, get down with the Daily Bitch (and maybe eat a creative ice cream flavor or a ginger snap).
Tell me something I don’t know, preferably about you.
I’ll tell you something YOU don’t know: I’ve been serving on the Board of Directors of the Northeastern Society for Group Psychotherapy for eight years, which is ALL of my 60s, and tomorrow is my last day!
I’ll tell you something else you don’t know — I’ve been listening to the original cast album of In the Heightsand I love this song:
Am I telling you something you don’t know in the images I captured yesterday?
Tell me something I don’t (or do) know in the comments section below.
I am grateful for what I know, for what I might know in the future, and for YOU.
I am no longer President of the Northeastern Society for Group Psychotherapy, so I am no longer worrying about acting Presidential (although “acting Presidential” no longer has the same meaning it used to).
I am no longer able to say that I never saw that before. It’s been no longer than 55 years that I’ve known Carl Reiner and Mel Brooks as comic geniuses.
Mel Brooks, who describes himself on Twitter as “Writer, Director, Actor, Producer and Failed Dairy Farmer” and who no longer can have dinner every night with his old friend and co-writer Carl Reiner, posted this no-longer-than-280-character tribute yesterday:
Carl was a giant, unmatched in his contributions to entertainment. He created comedy gems like The Dick Van Dyke Show, The Jerk, and Where’s Poppa? I met him in 1950 when he joined Sid Caesar on Your Show of Shows, and we’ve been best friends ever since. I loved him. When we were doing The 2000 Year Old Man together there was no better straight man in the world. So whether he wrote or performed or was just your best friend — nobody could do it better. He’ll be greatly missed. A tired cliché in times like this, but in Carl Reiner’s case it’s absolutely true. He will be greatly missed.
It took me no longer than a few seconds to find this great photo of Carl Reiner, Annie Reiner, and Mel Brooks that was taken no longer than two days away from Mel Brooks’s 94th birthday and Carl Reiner’s death day:
I hope it is no longer debatable in this country that black lives matter.
I am no longer worried about other people’s incorrect assumptions or my inadvertent miscommunications, like Mel Brooks’s birthday and Carl Reiner’s death day being the same day (which they aren’t — they are one day apart).
This post is no longer focusing on words as I share my images from yesterday:
I am no longer expecting comments but I will welcome any you choose to make.
It takes no longer than one word to express heart-felt gratitude.
Jerry Seinfeld, who is not in his 90s and who I hope gets there (because I love him), is also in the movie. He describes his ideas about how to live well into your 90s, which include “Fall in love every day. I don’t mean romantic love. Fall in love with your parking space.”
Maybe I WILL make it into my 90s, because I fall in love every day, with my parking space and many other things. Do you see the love in my photos from yesterday?
I love so many things about those photos, including the penguin-that-looks-like-a-monkey Starbucks cake pop. I also love that my new and lovely co-worker Alice and I went to Starbucks yesterday not wanting to buy anything but just to smell the coffee (which some lovely researchers say can revitalize you), and the lovable Starbucks barista (not pictured) opened a giant container of roasting beans (also not pictured) and let us smell their lovely aroma.
One of the lovable social work interns at work has fallen in love with the music of jazz drummer Brian Blade and he suggested I listen to him, which I did. I fell in love and maybe you will, too.
What might you fall in love with today?
I’ve fallen in love every day about thanking those who help me write these daily posts and also my lovely readers (including YOU).
Life is short, though I keep this from my children.
Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine
in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,
a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways
I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least
fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative
estimate, though I keep this from my children.
For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.
For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,
sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world
is at least half terrible, and for every kind
stranger, there is one who would break you,
though I keep this from my children. I am trying
to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,
walking you through a real shithole, chirps on
about good bones: This place could be beautiful,
right? You could make this place beautiful.
Sons who want to FaceTime with their mothers
Cats
Signs
Fire hydrants
Mittens
Pumpkins
My readers, who I hope will leave a comment about this post (which could be worse)
Gratitude, which I’m expressing for all who helped me create today’s blog and for you– of course! — no matter what you think could be worse, here and now.
