Observations and I've Been Thinking; part 10232011

There I was, don't remember exactly where, but I was there thinking. Then two different voices from two different times in space were recalled simultaneously.

Both were remarking that I could be making things, like boxes, fountains, or combinations thereof, since I have done such things and the results were unusual and well received in certain circles. Both voices were people who believed I had some degree of talent and thought my creations worthy. My own self defeating, and self criticism tends to cause me to believe these items are no good, never sell, blablabla.

That really should be one of my fallback safety nets, and I ought to put time in on it every week because I've been carting around materials forever; roll of copper sheet, some copper tubing, tiny motors, a pneumatic switching device which is just a cool thing to have and was used in testing the pneumatic operators on my cotton dust eaters many years ago when I was a young punk inventor kid.

I was kind of ticked at critic JT for comments about my writing and other things, but I am pretty sure the spirit of the assertions was well intended and had merit. For awhile I was perturbed because I felt inhibited in writing anything. What will critics think? I got over it, and backed off enough to see the point. Still ticked but that's because I prefer any suggestion, observation or thought concerning anything about me to be sugar coated.

Otherwise I have to go through the process of anger, regret at being angry, analysis of what made me angry and, finally, to the point of deciding if the offending point had merit or not.

Something recently happened which made me think the comments regarding my manner of speech had slight validity. Much of it doesn't because I know people who never concluded from the way I talk that I am a dumb ass.

However, it is interesting that people who know me through the written word first generally seem to come into the friendship believing I have a brain. A certain type of person does tend to think I'm a dolt, as near as I can tell, if they only meet me verbally, and without any friend conducting the introduction, and maybe including a comment like, "John's not a dumbass hillbilly".. Like that limey jerk who is the Horse Boy's father. He obviously made a judgement and there was no turning back. But he'd be hard pressed to get any sort of positive letter of recommendation from me, so screw him.

What happened recently was that an old guy talking to me thought I was foreign from some kind British Isles or Indonesia--I forget the place he mentioned. He said I phrase things differently. He is originally from the Boston area I think. I've always found I have more trouble getting through to northeasterners than southerners or people from the midwest.

You'd be surprised how much effort I put into working on the speech thing in the past. Certain situations must trigger a delivery which doesn't put me in the best light. Other times I know for sure that I'm on the game enough not to seem like a dullard. It is something I have to watch, and it is something that I can't always fix. Probably the way my brain works which makes stating a thought get in the way of continuing the formulation of the thought if I'm in conversation so I have to bounce back and forth between holding or developing the thought and stating it, while worrying that I've lost the person.

I'm not a fast talker and if I am not thinking about it I can be painfully slow by some people's standards. Other people don't tend to be that irked or else they resist butting in so the flow works and actually speeds up. Lots of people have trouble hanging to the end of the sentence or paragraph and try to finish my sentences for me. They very rarely guess correctly at where it was headed. It is so hard to speed it up, but I try sometimes or else give up and go silent. Just how my brain works.

That's the least of my worries but I know it happens. Probably part of what my brother innocently called the "it" that if you could get past, you'd find me to be OK.

There are people who have progressive muscular diseases that affect their speech, and I know that a lot of people assume they are not bright because they have such trouble talking. My situation is a very very mild form of that syndrome of perception. I have no specific disease, but am simply put together a little differently.

If I had not undergone so many neurological tests I would just assume I'm bad and no good. I may be that, but how I talk is not due to a deficiency intellectually. I'm not below average in that realm, and if I were it would not be a crime. Character is more important than intelligence. I'd like to sharpen both those things as much as I can. I'm lazy so I doubt I'll optimize in either area.

This went on too long.

I know one thing, when Sally and I get on a roll, I talk too much and go from this to that at a rapid pace and we come up with the most brilliant and hilarious of schemes. It is good to laugh. There were periods of time before I left Memphis when I'd go a month or more without laughing even once, and longer than that without the kind of laughter that takes you over until you beg the laugh gods to make it stop. Until I hit San Diego, I think I must have gone a year or three without a good belly laugh.

My friend K and my vet fixed that. K can put me hysterics sometimes.

When I write, I just think and write at the same time as I go***. It is easier to write without much hesitation than it is to talk, but I still think I am an ace at public speaking. Because I am. Probably because it is one way and I don't get so distracted. And it is a performance which is dandy. You can gage the audience interest and reaction and work the room like that. I'm not one for a lot of audience participation whether in the crowd or on stage. They are to supply positive reinforcement and enthusiasm only. I hate when someone on stage wants you to do this or that. On rare occasions it is cool but mostly I am not into it. I don't pay to do your damned show for you.

Still, I have to say, that Boston guy was the first to ever wonder if I was a foreigner or raised by some tribe on a island in the ocean. He at least didn't ask if I was a cannibal.

***all the edits are because I catch dyslexic things and missing words and the wrong no/know and such. Sometimes I decide to add stuff that comes to mind when I look at whatever I said. I have to look at it to know because I don't know in advance and don't usually remember the details.