When I was home for the holiday and we were exchanging gifts, my father opened a gift from my sister: These Truths: A History of the United States by Jill Lepore.  As he was opening it, my sister picked up a random gift from my mother which was under the tree and handed it to me.  I waited patiently for my turn, expressing sincere interest in reading Lepore's book as soon as my father was finished.  Then, I opened the present in my lap, and it was the same book!  Such a coincidence wasn't particularly shocking, given our common tastes combined with the fact that the previous year I'd given my dad Grant on his e-reader and I received a hard copy as well (although it came as little surprise, as we'd both requested Chernow's latest).

All that said, after finishing a few other books first, I finally got to These Truths recently.  Today I read about a bunch of colonists complaining about taxes, winning a revolution because Washington was gritty, determined and brave to lead troops who exemplified the same, France, Spain and the Netherlands helped, Britain was more concerned about holding onto its possessions in the Caribbean, and Cornwallis didn't have a phone so he had no idea that reinforcements were merely a day away when he surrendered.

The day began with business class, and we learned how giant patriotic American corporations avoid taxes by offshoring (what could be more patriotic than avoiding taxes?).

After that, I went home and, like a good citizen, filed my taxes.

Quite a place, this land named for the mapmaker 

Now that is quite a sun Earth moon art meeting

If only New Amsterdam had canals and I could canoe most places.  I live on a hill; going to work would be like Splash Mountain.  And in the winter we could ice skate

I had just told my boss that I was a writer with thousands of pages looking for homes when I ran into Malcolm Gladwell (Tipping Point, Blink, Outliers) on the street a few hours ago. I noticed him about twenty feet away.  He noticed me noticing him.  I said, "Malcolm Gladwell?!" and he nodded slowly and smiled slightly, and I just said, "You're great! Thank you!" and he smiled as we each kept walking without breaking stride. I think that was better than asking for a selfie. I know that super famous people don't want to be bothered walking down the streets of New York, but I imagine writers enjoy a little ego boost. I know very well I'd be glad.

I have a quote of his on my wall, among many others from other writers who inspire me.

"The Law of the Few says that there are exceptional people out there who are capable of starting epidemics.  All you have to do is find them."

Perhaps I should have annoyed him and asked him to be my connector, but he's described himself as more of a maven anyway.  

10 years ago I was reading Outliers: The Story of Success.  10,000 hours?  I'm not sure you can really quantify such things, but I've been writing pretty much every day since.  Thanks for the coincidence, universe!

Blessings

My mother has this Mary Oliver poem on the fridge, which caused me to give her a few of her books as gifts over the years:

"Wild Geese"

'You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles in the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.'

I can't tell how great it is to have your mother endorse a poem that begins "you do not have to be good," and to see it every time you visit home and are about to open the door to food and beer...

My school has me teaching business English on a different schedule for a couple months. I do four hours in the morning and four hours at night. But the first hour in the evening is actually a separate class, where we can do anything that practices advanced skills.

After practicing grammar, reading articles and having discussions, a student informed me that she'd really enjoyed it when a past teacher had brought in poems and literature. Well, I didn't need any encouragement to do so, so I was happy to oblige.

Last night I had them read poems/prayers from this book (given as an Xmas gift by my mother, of course) called "Earth Prayers: 365 Prayers, Poems, and Invocations from Around the World". We didn't get to Mary Oliver, although I had wanted to. We did read Walt Whitman, which the article below informed me was Mary's favorite poet.

So I guess I know whom we'll be reading tonight...

Consecutive winter mornings waking up to my Al Green playlist alarm which starts with "Let's Stay Together" have convinced me those aren't the best lyrics to coax me out of my warm bed

Great story

I smile contemplating the same in the moon up above, a bright white crescent hovering near the roof of my building, redirecting the light for all the people hustling about on Broadway.  I am thinking I'm the only one really looking, and that it's fitting that we get such a grin on 11119... and then I (really) found twenty dollars!

Won 7/19

I am still finding clues while doing my best to enjoy what they will bring as I make them dance and sing

Welcome, New Year!