Walldren’s World

When I was a youth, I collected stamps. My father gave me a stamp collecting book that was given to him as a boy. I probably have some pretty old stamps as a result.

Before puberty hit and I discovered Dungeons & Dragons, Not Socializing with Girls, and an appreciation of James Cameron movies that I have never been able to rekindle, I used to share the hobby of philately with my Mom’s business upstairs neighbor.

I would pore over her books of stamps from around the world. I recall being particularly fond of the stamps of the Scandinavian countries, Japan, and Egypt in particular.

However, many years have passed and other collections took primacy over this hobby. I still have the stamp book. However, I’m not sure what I should do with it. Should I pass it on to Nathan at the same age that my Dad gave it to me?  Keep it in a memory box?  Decisions, decisions.

Our Lady of the Lava Lamp

“The old gods are dead or dying and people everywhere are searching, asking: What is the new mythology to be?” - Joseph Campbell

The above quotation reflects some of the key themes I picked up while studying Existentialism. It echoes Nietzsche, Heidegger, T.S. Eliot, as it tolls the bell of Postmodernism.

It’s hard to believe that 12 years have passed since my Dad, Allan Wade Walldren, passed away.  He struggled with addiction (cigarettes and food) as I have for much of my life. From his life and death I have learned a great many things: try to stay positive, have sense of humor, that I might look good in a beard…

A blog post about my Dad seems comparable to the entry for Earth in the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy: “Mostly Harmless.” 18 years seems too brief a time to spend getting to know your parent. I hope that I can be around longer for Nathan and any of his potential siblings.

Almost three years have passed since I quit smoking. It is ironic that I started smoking out of remembrance for the man for whom chain-smoking partially spelled his doom.  Well, I have overcome that hurdle and I have never felt better.

I loved my Dad and I still miss him. However, I’ve learned to be strong without him – and that too has been a lesson taken from his life. You spend most of your young life trying to live up to your parents’ expectations – or at least what you expect their expectations of you are.  Then, hopefully you discover that what you thought they had in mind for you was not necessarily what they actually had in mind for you.

The safety of the cocoon is burst and you have to try to find your own meaning. At least this has been the case for me. I try to stay positive and laugh at things. Often that is all you can do. But outside of this I have also learned that it is important not to let gallows humor lead to a chronic mental state of defeatism. You must, no matter how difficult it is, become your own person.

Along the path of grief I have discovered some influential existential writers and directors that deal with some of the above transformative issues. I highly recommend checking out their below works:

• Viktor Frankl: Man’s Search for Meaning
• Albert Camus: The Myth of Sisyphus
• Ingmar Bergman: Wild Strawberries
• Krzysztof Kie?lowski: The Decalogue,  Blue, and Red
• Akira Kurosawa: Ikiru
• Zhang Yimou: To Live

So, here’s to remembering my Dad – whose spirit and influence lives on today, not just in my son’s middle namesake.

Yet another idea of mine for a children’s story: St. Abominable’s Home for Abandoned Snowmen. Of course, this was inspired by Bill Watterson’s indefatigable Calvin & Hobbes. What happened to all those childhood snowmen in the permanent winter of remembered youth? They must go somewhere.

St Abominable's Home for Abandoned Snowmen

After being single for the majority of my life – then finding someone I am now madly in love with – I am convinced that there is somebody for everyone. You may be diseased, leprous, covered in a colony of spores, or otherwise disgusting to most people in the world – but there is someone out there who will “get you”.  It may not be how you originally envisioned – or specifically what you had in mind – but it will captivate you.

C.S. Lewis wrote a piece called The Four Loves that explores the idea of love and its various forms. I think it’s interesting to evaluate your relationships with friends and family through these criteria to better understand how you truly feel.

1. Affection – fondness through familiarity, circumstantial.
2. Friendship – strong bond from a shared interest of activity.
3. Eros – “being in love”, appreciation of another regardless of reciprocity.
4. Charity – “caring regardless of circumstance.”

Lewis mainly wrote for and from the perspective of Christian theology and its discussion of love as a virtue.  However, I think the idea of love as a virtue is a pretty universal concept among us homo sapiens in our various cultural incarnations. So, the next time you think of someone you love – ask yourself, “How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…”

It’s time to check in on New Year’s Resolutions.  Are you keeping yours?

I’m struggling with two of mine that rather intertwine:

1. Lose 20 pounds (goal for the year)

2. Cut down on Starbucks.

As much as I’d like to go to the gym, I think reducing the daily intake of calories into my system – especially the calories that come from keeping me wired and functioning for day to day business  - could do nothing but help the cause.

The trouble is – I walk by a Starbucks every day on my way to work. I also tend to skip breakfast so I’m hungry when I walk by. And they are so very nice at the Jefferson & Lake location. It’s like Cheers without the alcohol.

It wouldn’t be so bad if I went 1-2 times per week as a “treat”. So maybe that’s what I need to start with. Rather than keeping a food log, I can start with a drink log.  I’m sure drinking more water will also help with the weight loss as I won’t feel as hungry by staying well hydrated. A stomach full of water is a lot more manageable for my metabolism than a stomach full of Cheez-its.

Once more I feel that Lego is missing an opportunity by not licensing cult movies…

Who wouldn’t want a Lego Apocalypse Now set?  The horror, the horror.

Today we celebrate my son’s 4th month on the planet. He has been celebrating by not allowing us much rest over the past week and has bestowed upon us the never ending gifts of barf, poop, and seven pound diapers that smell like an El station. Passive aggressiveness aside, I love my boy and am so glad he’s made it this far without too much incident! Happy 4 Months, Nate!

That is the question of this post. I think it would be a late entry for me to think I could create a niche blog about a particular subject and get a regular readership like many of the creative blogs out there like Bearskinrug, The Oatmeal, and so on. However, I think it would be a fascinating experiment to try to actual monetize the outpourings of dribble that seem to come unbidden by my teeming brain.

For example – what if I were to create a British Comedy blog and posted profiles of different Shows, Comedians, and Radio Programs that feature the biting wit of British Comedy that I hold so near and dear?  Would that be of value or interest to anyone reading it?

If so, what would you want out of such a blog?  Would it make sense to post video clips weekly or even daily?  How would I juggle this endeavor on top of my regular 9-5 job, wife, and young son and still have enough “me” time?  These are the riddles of the ’side project’.  I wonder if this project in and of itself would lend itself to “me” time.

Or rather – should I create an altogether different blog?  Like the “Writer Who Wants to Write” blog and include posts on such topics as how I am finding it incredibly difficult to put pen to paper – or finger to keyboard – and come up with anything other than “I really wish I could write more and be creative like blah, blah, blah.”   In addition to gripes, I could post links to helpful articles or write summaries of those articles as a sort of ‘how to’ for other aspiring whiny writers.

Perhaps this sort of endeavor would be easier to monetize – as other writers might turn to it as a resource. However, I find this prospect a bit overwhelming as so much has already been written on the subject that it leaves little uncharted territory in which to stretch my writerly wings.

As with any poetry collection there are hits and there are misses. With “Ballistics”, I think most of these poems hit the mark. One reviewer observed that these poems tend to be a little overly self-indulgent for Billy – but I happen to think that most poetry is self-indulgent. Many of these poems are very philosophical and deeply personal with the usual dose of dry wit one comes to expect from Billy Collins.

One of the main reasons I like Billy Collins (apart from the aforementioned dry with) is his ability to say what he means. In one poem he chastises the school teacher who asks of their students, “Now, what do you think the poet was trying to say?” by replying that if such a question is asked of an Emily Dickinson poem, then obviously the great poet has failed in her poetry.

I spent an enjoyable afternoon with this book and recommend it heartily.