Thinking about seeing...

The cover of the first issue of the short-lived New Black Mask Quarterly—which featured an interview with Robert B. Parker and an excerpt from his Promised Land—depicts Parker's Spenser fighting with a hooligan while Hawk stands in the background. As I stood in the aisle of the narrow used book store contemplating my purchase, I recall how the hooligan's muscle shirt, with its yellow-and-maroon horizontal striped pattern, caught my eye but that's as far as it went.

The excerpt from Promised Land hooked me, and as I started reading the Spenser novels, I kept noticing how Parker often took the time to describe what his characters were wearing. Frankly, my eyes sort of glazed over at points like that, and I would skim until the action or conversation picked up again. (Only later would I run across Elmore Leonard's 10 Rules of Writing, which encouraged writers (in rule 8) to "Avoid detailed descriptions of characters" and (in rule 10) to "Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.")

As I endeavor to sharpen my memorization skills, I am forced to come to the conclusion that there is really only one central skill that is essential to that end: the ability to vividly visualize things. (That said, I am left with what is perhaps a more acute curiosity as to what it must be like to live with an impaired or non-functioning visual apparatus from birth, but I digress...)

My capacity for detail in visualization is, by my own estimation, not spectacular. I've never been one of those chess players who can "see" an entire board in my mind. (Having said that, sometime during junior year in college, I did play a blindfold game against one of the other residents of the dorm, and managed not only to not get hopelessly confused, but even won the game via checkmate.) As I sit here at my computer, I could not mentally walk from one end of the local shopping center to the other and tell you the sequence in which the storefronts appear. I can only vaguely tell you the approximate position within the store of various types of groceries are at the City Market.

So perhaps a lifetime of not paying all that much attention—both while reading the Parker books and at other times—has served to make me less mindful of the world around me? Or am I more-or-less normal? And if I am, is that good? Questions, questions...

I drew one small comfort from the climax of Joshua Foer's Moonwalking with Einstein, where he describes some of the difficulties faced by competitors at the U.S. Memory Championship, including his own as a competitor. Specifically, I was struck by how people who have spent considerable time training their memories still come up with blanks from time to time, as in the following text:

My task now was to rearrange the unshuffled pack to match the one I'd just memorized.

I fanned the unshuffled deck out across the table, took a deep breath, and walked through my palace one more time. I could see all of the images perched exactly where I'd left them, except for two. They should have been in the shower, dripping wet, but all I could spy were blank beige tiles.

I can't see it, I whispered to myself frantically. I can't see it. I ran through every single one of my images as fast as I could. Had I forgotten a giant pair of toes? A fop wearing an ascot? Pamela Anderson's rack? The Lucky Charms leprechaun? An army of turbaned Sikhs? No, no, no, no.

Said comfort is so slight it barely nudges the needle, but at least I don't feel as if there is something organically wrong if I can't keep what should be a memorable image fresh in my mind.

* * *In the Don't-Count-Your-Chickens Department, the tsunami of work promised for today has failed (as yet) to materialize, and as it is presently past the close of business in Moscow, I don't expect to see any of that wave today.

There is no need to worry, however, as there are still a number of things that need to be done before I head out the door tomorrow morning, headed for New York.

Cheers...

Oh, my...

Drew came over and gave me a jump, and then I let the car run for a while before taking it to the bank. More to-dos were mown down in the name of progress, and in response to my question about half-dollar and dollar coins, my cashier produced three Sacagawea dollars and a Kennedy half-dollar, apologizing for the fact that the half was one of those old, silver coins from 1964. I took the coin anyway.

On the way home, it occurred to me that without any immediate work, I'm sort of on a glide path, so I stopped by the City Market and decided to pick up a steak for lunch (this, after a two-day meat fast). Said piece of beef is currently on the grill, making appropriate seductive, soft sizzling sounds.

As I look out over the landscape—did I mention how this morning's dawn was a source of one of those "take a deep breath and enjoy it" moments?—it struck me that the air temperature was not hot and not cold, sky was clear, and the sunlight was neither too harsh nor too soft, and that consequently, it would behoove me to sit on the varandah, watch the grill, and do my best to overdose on this marvelous spring day?

I don't remember the last time I tried, but it's the trying that's important, I'm sure!

Cheers...

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A review in SlavFile...

The SlavFile is the quarterly publication of the Slavic Language Division of the American Translator's Association, and the availability of the Spring 2011 edition just landed in my inbox.

One of the staples of the publication—at least for the issue or two following the annual conference—is reviews of the Slavic-track conference presentations. I was particularly interested to see the Spring 2011 edition, as a review of my presentation was in line for publication.

Given the conference feedback, which was very positive, the review contained no unpleasant surprises. Still, the performer in me—for a conference presentation is very much so a performance—was gratified to read the nice words, especially ones you don't quite expect:

Upon reviewing Alex’s PowerPoint slides for this article, I was surprised at just how much terminology he had managed to
slip into the presentation. Somehow, he covered the terminology without being dull and plodding, as a recitation of terminology can often be.

There's quite a bit more in the issue, and I may very well read it on the plane tomorrow.

For now, it's time to shut down the computer, tear down my office setup, and pack what needs to be packed. Then I can try to fall asleep (which was part of the reason for rising when I awoke at 4:30 am). Wish me luck.

Cheers...