Action is Character

Back when I worked at Custom Box Service, Nick and I would often have philosophical discussions. Or psuedo-philosophical discussions. Well, we’d share our Deep Thoughts with each other at any rate.

On more than one occasion, I’d be lamenting that X was a priority in my life — where X could be exercise or getting out of debt or reading more books — but that I never seemed to have time for it. Instead, I did a bunch of other stuff.

Nick would always tell me, “Then X isn’t a priority.” If I tried to argue, he’d point out that the things we actually do are the priorities in our life. What we say doesn’t matter; it’s what we do that counts.

It took me a long time to learn this lesson. I used to be what I call a Talker: I talked about all the things I wanted to do, and I felt like I had the solutions to everything, but I never actually took action. I was full of hot air.

Somehow, I’ve turned into a Doer. Most of the time, I get things done. Instead of lamenting about the man I want to be, I’m working hard to be that man. I’ve built a new life out of doing the things I used to only talk about before. (Note that I’m not always a Doer. I still spend plenty of time Talking, but my ratio of action to words has increased sharply in recent years.)

I’ve written about this subject several times in the past, both here and at my personal finance blog. For example, in August I wrote a piece about the difference between Talkers and Doers for GRS. It may be my favorite article from last year. And longer ago at Folded Space, I shared Action Girl’s Guide to Living from Sarah Dyer. (Action Girl’s #1 tip is awesome: “Action is everything! It really doesn’t matter what you say or even what you think; it’s what you do that matters.”)

Anyhow, I’ve been thinking about this subject quite a bit lately because of a single quote from F. Scott Fitzgerald. In his notes on The Last Tycoon, he wrote, “Action is character.”

I’d never heard this phrase until Kris and I watched An Education, an interesting little film from 2009. In it, a bored English schoolgirl spends a few exciting months hanging out with an older man. At one point, she says, “”Action is character, our English teacher says. I think she means that if we never did anything, we wouldn’t be anybody.”

Or to up it another way, we are what we repeatedly do. (This is Will Durant’s interpretation of an idea from Aristotle, though many people mistakenly attribute it to the latter.)

This is brilliant, and it goes back to what I said earlier: We are not what we think or say; we’re what we do.

You can say that health is important to you, but if you don’t eat and act healthfully, it’s just not so.
Thinking about writing doesn’t make you a writer; writing makes you a writer, and if you’re not writing, you’re not a writer.
You can say your life’s too busy and you want to slow down, but so long as you keep scheduling things, you’re showing that you value the busy-ness more than the downtime.
You can profess a belief in Christianity, but it’s your actions that actually make you Christian, not your words. (I know, I know: We could argue this point of doctrine for days. Or years. Or centuries. But I believe it. Faith without works is dead.)

Action is character. We are what we repeatedly do.

All of this was tied together by a quote from Jess Walter’s Citizen Vince, which we just read for book group. In it, the author writes:

There is what you believe and there is what you want and these things are fine. But they’re just ideas, in the end. History, like any single life, is made up of actions. At some point, the thinking and believing and deciding fall away and all that’s left is the doing.

So, my friends, what is important to you? No, I mean really: What is important to you? Stop hiding from it, stop being afraid of it, stop waiting for it to come. Go act. By doing so, you’ll reveal your true character.

Southern

Today marks the start of Blog Week in my life. I’m spending the next seven days focused on preparing Get Rich Slowly for my upcoming absence while Kris and I spend three weeks in Africa.

While editing guest posts this morning, I’m listening to my “angsty eighties” mix. By sheer chance, the song “Southern” by Orchestral Maneuvers in the Dark came up on random play. The song features excerpts from Martin Luther King’s speeches.

An OMD fan has created a video for the track and posted it to YouTube. I like it:

Powerful stuff.

Arnold Thomas Sandwick, Jr.

When Kris and I moved to Oak Grove in 2004, we were surprised by the neighborhood. We’d just come from Canby, which seemed like a proto-typical small town. Yet we barely knew our neighbors there. We smiled at them and waved hello and helped each other with small tasks, but we were never what I’d call friendly. Our area never felt like a neighborhood or a community.

Our street in Oak Grove felt like a neighborhood from the start. People were welcoming. They chatted with us and shared vegetables. We talked about the cats and the druggies down the street. We exchanged baked goods at Christmas and watched each other’s homes. This has never felt intrusive — just friendly.

Tom, the old man next door, was perhaps the best of the lot. He liked to stand at his fence and chat about our gardens or our cats or the history of the neighborhood. He shared advice on growing fruit trees. Once, while we were holding book group outside, he brought over a wheelbarrow full of old photography magazines to give to me. (And later gave me a bunch of darkroom equipment.) Tom was a Good Man.

Tom died last Saturday. I never thought I’d devote an entire blog entry to mourn the loss of a neighbor, but I’m doing so today. As I say, he was a Good Man, and it somehow seems wrong that there’s no digital memorial to him. Well, Kris and I attended Tom’s funeral service this afternoon, and the program contained a fine biography of the man. I’m going to preserve it here.

Arnold Thomas Sandwick, Jr.

18 September 1927 – 08 January 2011

Arnold Thomas Sandwick, Jr., was born 18 September 1927 at Terrebonne, Deschutes County, Oregon, and went home to be with his Lord on 08 January 2011. He was the first of five children born to Irene Beatrice Deach and Arnold Thomas Sandwick. Tom was followed by Andy, Anitra Van Matre, Carmen Olsen, and Eric.

Tom and his first wife, Mildred, also had five children: Carl, Jean, Karin, Kristen, and Judi. After his divorce, Tom married Roberta and gained two more children: Clifford Sandwick and Catie Elrod. He was predeceased by his parents and brother, Andy.

At 17, Tom graduated from Redmond High School, and whiled away the summera as a railroad section hand pounding spikes into a rail line under construction. After he turned 18, he joined the Navy. He served a partial tour of duty at the end of World War II on a submarine. He was called back up during the Korean War and served on a seaplane tender.

Tom spend the years between and immediately after his time in the Navy continuing his education. He attended Powellhurst Bible Academy, Whitworth College, Oregon State, Western Seminary, and Denver Seminary. He had a degree in civil/structural engineering from Oregon State and became a registered professional engineer in 1961. When structural engineering became a separate discipline, he successfully applied for dual registration under the grandfathered application process. He did not renew his license in 2007, although he was willing to brainstorm engineering problems after that time.

Tom’s engineering career was complex and varied. He designed the marine park at Kalama, Washington and worked on the Bull Run water source for the city of Portland. He was involved in the ramps on the Morrison Street Bridge, the sewer system in Oak Grove, and a now-abandoned chip loading facility in Lake Oswego. These are just a few of the many projects he was a part of as a problem solver or designer. On a personal level, two projects stand out. The first was the house in which he raised his children. His favorite was his last project, the house in which he spent his retirement.

As a young boy, Tom was entranced by airplanes. He read about them and built model airplanes. Much to his grief, he was never able to fly due to very poor eyesight. Tom learned to develop and print his own black-and-white photographs while on the submarine at the end of World War II. Photography was one of his pleasures. A collection of his prints is scattered through the second house. He had a very good eye. Tom took great satisfaction in growing a significant portion of the household fruits and vegetables. He was also an immense help in putting up the surplus for winter use.

Family was always at the center of Tom’s life. He worked very hard to be a responsible parent in a single-income household. At times this spread his resources very thin, but the results were worth the effort.

Tom seriously considered a life in the ministry, but decided that he was just not cut out for the pastoral role. He valued greatly the education at Powellhurst, Western, and Denver. He applied this education to all aspects of his life.

Tom usually had some deep thought wandering around the back of his mind, even at the very end. Shortly before he lapsed into unconsciousness he said, “This is ridiculous.” When asked what “this” was, he answered, “The whole concept — yet it’s perfectly plausible.” Perhaps he meant that the idea that man was in charge of anything was that which was ridiculous. That would be consistent for a man who said “love” was not a big enough word to encompass the emotion he was experiencing.

I only knew Tom for six years. He and I would stop to chat when we saw each other in the road. (When he was setting out to feed the neighbor cats, for example, or when I was walking up the hill to my office.) I didn’t know Tom well, but I liked him. I wish I had known longer and better.

Tom Sandwick was a Good Man.

Oops!

Via Andy B, here’s an masterfully-made, mesmerizing video of people dropping their cameras:

oops from Chris Beckman on Vimeo.

I know it sounds dumb, but I promise it’s not. It’s fascinating.

The Smartest Dog in the World

Nicole — who knows I love stories about animal intelligence — wrote in to share the tale of Chaser, the smartest dog in the world. Or at least the dog with the largest vocabulary.

Here’s the story, as reported by Animal Planet:

As part of a three year training course at Wofford College taught by psychologists Alliston Reid and John Pilley, Chaser was introduced to the names of 1,022 toys. Over the three years, Reid and Pilley taught the collie the names of 1,022 toys by introducing them to her one by one, getting her to fetch the toy and then repeating the name to reinforce the association. They say there’s no limit to what the dog can learn!

They’ve even posted video of Chaser in action:

Pretty amazing stuff, but I’d still like to see them do this with a cat… (Plus, I think it’s hilarious that this man refers to himself as Pop Pop.)

Geeks in Love

On ~~February~~ January 24th, Kris and I will have been together for 22 years. Here’s a photo from right around our one-year anniversary:

This was taken on approximately 14 February 1990 (my guess is the ~~10th~~ 3rd) at Willamette‘s “Black Tie Affair”, a formal dance held in Portland. Man, we’re a couple of geeks.

Jared Loughner’s Insane YouTube Videos

So, I’m just as worried as everyone else that Jared Loughner, the man who attacked a political gathering in Arizona today, is some sort of politically-motivated rightwing nutjob. However, after a little research, I’m not convinced that’s actually the case.

Jared Loughner may have spouted conservative anti-government rhetoric, but if you watch his YouTube videos, the guy’s flat-out insane. I don’t mean in a figurative sense; I mean this literally. Just as John Hinckley didn’t represent liberal Democrats when he tried to assassinate Ronald Reagan, Loughner doesn’t represent conservative Republicans in this case. Both men are just nuts.

Don’t believe me? Take a gander at Loughner’s non-sensical YouTube tirades. Here they are, in chronological order:

How To: Your New Currency! (from 22 Nov 2010)

The Student at Pima Community College: An Unconstitutional Crime! (from 30 Nov 2010)

How To: Mind Controller (from 06 Dec 2010

Introduction: Jared Louhgner (from 15 Dec 2010)

Hello (from 15 Dec 2010)

Again, this doesn’t seem to be a Tea Party thing. It seems to be a mentally insane thing. This guy reminds me of the nutjobs I’ve mocked in the past, like the Time Cube guy, or the guy who posted a classified ad in the Salem paper about being forced to play basketball at the mental hospital.

So, please, just as you wouldn’t want conservatives to rush to judmgent about somebody who shot a Republican congressman, don’t do the same when it’s a Democratic congresswoman who has been shot. It may be that Loughner is a Tea Party crank — or he could just be somebody who is mentally ill.

The Cat on the Table

While emptying my camera’s memory card the other day, I found a photo I’d forgotten I took. It’s funny.

My family generally celebrates Christmas on Christmas Eve. We get together for a pizza dinner before exchanging gifts. This year, Kris and I hosted. We bought several take-n-bake crusts and provided toppings so people could customize their pies.

When we sat down to eat, however, Toto decided she wanted in on the action. She hopped up on the table, and demanded that Aunt Stephanie share a slice of pizza:

Toto has always sat on the table at meal times. I know this grosses some people out, but that’s just how it is with her, and Kris and I deal with it. (She’s not allowed to do this when company is around — though obviously, sometimes she breaks the rules.) Lately, though, she’s become brazen. Instead of waiting for a possible nibble or snack, she barges right in to take a bite.

It’s as if she’s trying to play the pity card: “Look at me: I’m dying. The least you can do is share your food.”

When Toto does die — and it’ll probably be in 2011 — this photo will be one of a handful I’ll flag to remember her by. This captures her personality and one of her trademark moves. I love it.

Superman Believes That a Wife’s Place is in the Home

I’ve been reading a lot of old comic books lately. Since I love comics, this probably doesn’t sound unusual. But it is. I mean I’ve been reading actual comics (instead of compilations) from the 1950s and 1960s.

I find these books entertaining, even though their stories are often dull and repetitive. (The DC comics of the era are just plain bad most of the time.) I’m fascinated by the window to the past these comics provide, by the glimpses they give of culture and values that have faded to memory.

For example, I think we take it for granted how far the role of women has come in U.S. society. Sure, there’s more work to be done, but when you see how women were portrayed in comics fifty years ago, it’s like a whole other world.

My favorite example of this is the Lois Lane comic series, the full title of which is Superman’s Girl Friend Lois Lane. Every issue contains three stories, and every story features Lois pining for Superman. (She’s usually trying to prove that Clark Kent is Superman in these stories, too.) And although Lois is portrayed as a strong “girl” for her era, she still needs Superman to save her over and over again.

Lois Lane comics are filled with “imaginary stories”, stories that the editors claim are “what if” stories. They’re not part of the official Superman storyline, but imaginary tales about what could happen — if Lois and Superman married, for instance:

These are nice because they give the comic a change of pace. And, presumably, they satisfy the female audience’s taste for romance, though I’m dying to know the demographics of the Lois Lane readership during the early 1960s. Did women really buy these? It’s hard to believe now, but comics regularly sold hundreds of thousands of copies, and the most popular would sell over a million copies per month. Surely some women read this. But how many?

If the magazine’s letter column is any indication, plenty of women read Lois Lane (though most letters are from men). Here, for example, Anne Zeek of Kearny, New Jersey, writes to ask how Lois and Clark would handle working in the same workplace:

Dig that answer: “Superman believes that a wife’s place is in the home.” Mind boggling! Can you even imagine a magazine printing something like that nowadays? Yet, fifty years ago, this was the prevailing attitude. (This letter is from the January 1961 issue of Lois Lane.)

For a long time, the only bastion of strong womanhood in comics came from Wonder Woman, who starred in adventures like this (from November 1959):

Even Wonder Woman wasn’t immune to sexism, though. She palled around with Steve Trevor, “ace military intelligence pilot”, who often was depicted as stronger than she was. (Though, to be fair, most of the time the comic really did feature role reversals: Wonder Woman was saving Steve Trevor from danger.) The sad part about Wonder Woman is that after creator William Moulton Marston left the book, its writing and art sunk to the bottom of the barrel — worse even than Batman (which was dreadful at the time).

Marston was the psychologist and feminist theorist who created Wonder Woman. But even his noble aims seem patriarchal today:

Not even girls want to be girls so long as our feminine archetype lacks force, strength, and power. Not wanting to be girls, they don’t want to be tender, submissive, peace-loving as good women are. Women’s strong qualities have become despised because of their weakness. The obvious remedy is to create a feminine character with all the strength of Superman plus all the allure of a good and beautiful woman.

Do women have stronger roles in comics today? I don’t know, to be honest. I rarely read modern comics, and almost never read modern superhero comics. I do know that when I was a boy in the 1980s, there were some strong female characters. And I can’t imagine any editor in the 1980s writing that Superman believes that a wife’s place is in the home.

DJ Earworm: United State of Pop 2010

Oh, how I look forward to the new year. Not because of resolutions or a fresh start or anything like that, but because that’s when DJ Earworm releases his annual mash-up of the year’s top 25 pop songs. I love it!

This year’s remix isn’t as good as the 2009 version (which was simply amazing), but it’s still a lot of fun. I know not everyone loves pop music as much as I do (and really, I just like the dance stuff), but I still think even you old fogies can enjoy these mash-ups.

United State of Pop 2010: Don’t Stop the Pop (B-)

United State of Pop 2009: Blame It on the Pop (A+)

Note: The 2009 mash-up is a perfect thing (especially the video). It’s a glorious celebration of what makes pop music great. The 2008 version is very good, but it never reaches the highs of the 2009 remix.

United State of Pop 2008: Viva la Pop (A-)

United State of Pop (B) — the 2007 version didn’t have a video