Wyatt Earp and Attitudes on Failure

     Legends in history don’t come any bigger than the heroes and bad men of the Old West. They are all painted as being larger than life and living to the fullest. Whether hero or villain, whichever you prefer, they have the ability to captivate us and get us to believe their story; whether they are true or tall-tales that have been made taller like a growing tree through the ages.

           I love to read the stories as well as what historians say about these prolific people of the untamed west.  There are many that stand out; Buffalo Bill, Billy the Kid and Wild Bill Hickok — wow, there are a lot of Bill’s in the Old West and they seemed to get all the cool names.

            When you think about it, there is Bob Dalton and the Dalton gang, Jessie James, Frank James and the Youngers, as well as Wyatt Earp, and Pat Garrett, and all of them, no cool nickname.
        This also makes me wonder where all the Tanner’s and Brock’s were in the Old West. Were they the shop owners or ranchers? ‘Brock the rancher’ or ‘Blacksmith Tanner?’ But I digress.

           I also loved to watch some of Hollywoods renditions of these western tales. I believe we can all agree that they take liberties with the already stretched and skewed truth of the western legends. We just went from an oak tree sized legend to a redwood, simply by adding Hollywood.

          One of my favorite of these is Tombstone starring Kurt Russel as Wyatt Earp and Val Kilmer as “Doc” Holiday.  Born John Henry Holliday, “Doc” still doesn’t count as one of the cool nicknames the “Billy’s” got because he was an actual dentist.

            There are so many catchphrases and one-liners in this movie that will live throughout eternity, just like the legends themselves.

        “I'm your huckleberry.”  

        “I have two guns, one for each of ya.” 

        “You're a daisy if you do.”

        There is one particular scene in this movie that stands out in my mind. Wyatt Earp walks into a bar looking for employment. He talks to the proprietor (probably named Tanner), and in the discussion — let’s just call him Tanner — tells Earp that the man running the card table is running off all the customers due to his belligerent and cruel attitude.

       Wyatt Earp watches the man for a moment as he is incessantly berating the few people at the table. Having enough of the man's cruelness he walks over to him and confronts him. Now in order to get the conversation correct, I am going to list the exchange between the two of them.

Johnny Tyler looking at Wyatt Earp: — “Something on your mind?”

Wyatt Earp:  “I just wanted to let you know you’re sitting in my chair.”

Johnny Tyler:  “For a man that don't go heeled, you run your mouth awful reckless.”

Wyatt Earp:  “No need to go heeled to get the bulge on a tub like you.”

Johnny Tyler:  “Is that a fact?”

Wyatt Earp: “That’s a fact!”

Johnny stands and faces Wyatt pushing his chair aside.

Johnny Tyler:  “Well, I'm real scared.”

Wyatt Earp: “Damn rights you're scared, I can see that in your eyes.”

Wyatt rushes forward to stand toe to toe with Johnny as Johnny hovers his hand over his gun.

Wyatt Earp:  “Go ahead! Go ahead, skin that smoke-wagon and see what happens!”

Johnny Tyler:   Stuttering and frightened holding the butt of his gun “Listen, mister, I’m getting awful tired…”

Wyatt Earp:  Interrupts his statement with a hard slap across his face — “I'm getting tired of your gas now jerk that pistol and go to work.”  Slaps him hard again — “I said throw down boy!” slaps him across the face for the third time and asks, “You going to do something, or just stand there and bleed?”

Johnny Tyler shakes his head and looks away from Wyatt clearly defeated.

Wyatt Earp: “NO? — I didn’t think so.”

        This is an iconic part of the movie and a lot of people claim that it shows how heartless and cruel Wyatt Earp was. Others argue that it shows his fearlessness and conviction.

         The reason I have taken you through this journey with me is I believe there is a lesson to be learned by this scene. 

     Wyatt Earp approached a clearly belligerent man who was armed and known for his temper. He confronted him and called him out for his actions; the whole time knowing that he himself wasn’t armed.

  “For a man that don't go heeled, you run your mouth awful reckless.”

       This is in reference to the fact that Wyatt was unarmed. Wyatt stood his ground and defeated Johnny simply by not backing down.

       I have a motto that I like to live by — “Attempt everything in life as if you cannot fail.” Imagine what you could accomplish if you attempted everything in life knowing that you cannot fail. Wyatt approached a known violent and armed man with total conviction that he could not fail.

       The legend of Wyatt Earp goes on to state that throughout his lifetime and the numerous gun battles, he was never touched by a single bullet. 

        Throughout the gunfight, at the Ok Corral, the most famous of these, both of his brothers were wounded and even the great Doc Holliday was grazed. Several of the ‘cowboys’ were wounded and three were killed, yet Wyatt came out unscathed.

     I don’t believe that this was divine intervention or some mystical aura that he possessed. It was plain and simple his mindset. He had a mission and nothing would derail that mission. He didn’t give himself a plan B.

         It is rumored that throughout his life everything that he did, he did with such conviction that it was impossible for him to fail. He never allowed that to cross his mind.

       When he set his mind to something, that’s the way it was. There wasn’t any doubt or fear; just the vision of the outcome that he already expected. How much more would we accomplish if we didn't worry about the outcome and just knew that it was going to be?

          After the start of my disorder, it was difficult for me to accept this mindset that I had adopted years earlier. How was I supposed to attempt the things in life that never before slowed me down or caused me fear, but now as a sight-impaired individual cause me great anxiety?

         However, I have come to realize that now is the time for me to accept and completely embrace this motto. There are many things that I haven't tried yet but when I do finally get the opportunity I will go at them with only one thought — “I cannot fail!”

SP

Elephants and Soap, A Lesson in Life

        There’s an old saying that has been milling around my mind for the past few months; along with all the other craziness that wants to be heard.

        “How do you make a statue of an elephant? Get the biggest granite block you can find and chip away everything that doesn’t look like an elephant.”

        There is an unlikely story about the origin of this statement by the artist Michelangelo. He was asked about the difficulties that he must have encountered in sculpting his masterpiece David. He replied with a rather direct and comical description of his creative process:

        “It's easy; I just chip away the stone that doesn’t look like David.”

        This seems like such an easy task, however, in this writers opinion, it doesn’t always work that way.

        Like most young boys, growing up, I was involved in the scouting program. One of the hardest obtained and cherished awards in this program is the merit badge. There are merit badges for every sort of project and talent that you can imagine. From American Business to Woodworking with 133 more in between.  

        For anyone not familiar with the scouting program, in order to fulfill the requirements of the Eagle Scout, which is the highest rank attainable in the program, one must earn 13 required merit badges and 8 elective badges for a total of 21, if my math merit badge is still in order.

        The required badges are, just to name a few, citizenship, camping, emergency preparedness, cooking, and other essentials that are hoped will assist the scout in his life. The other 8 are what intrigues the mind of the particular scout. These badges are worn on a sash across their chest with as much pride and honor as the medals worn on a military uniform. We fought, scraped and worked long hours for those little round appliqué patches. And they meant everything to us.

        I was like most scouts in the program, always looking for my next merit badge; one that I could proudly display on my sash of honor. Of course, I wasn’t always the brightest bulb in the pack, (or troop as the case may be) as many of my choices in life have proven.

        I decided that a carving merit badge would be something that other scouts probably would overlook, which means I had a badge that most wouldn’t. Score! It also meant I got to play with knives and other sharp things. Double Score!

        I got the requirements from the badge counselor, who is the person who gets to say whether or not you passed all of the requirements necessary to receive that badge and started my day-long journey into-and-out-of the world of carving.

        So, back to my original thought — “Get the biggest granite block you can find and chip away everything that doesn’t look like an elephant.”  Got it. I decided that trying to acquire a large piece of very expensive stone was probably not going to happen so I chose the next best thing — soap.

        Soap, I could get, and in those days they were all in the form of bars, not these handy dandy pump action foamy goodness with scents and moisturizers. Just good old fashioned hard bars of soap.

        As I set to my task of carving, I puzzled for a while deciding what was hidden inside this bar that needed to be released by my chipping away at the parts not needed. 

        This was going to be easy.

        Rolling the bar over and over in my eager little hands, I contemplated what great and wonderful animal would come to life before my eyes? Let’s see. A Bear?  — No. A Deer?  — No. How about a Fish? After all, it was a bar or soap, it goes in water right?

        After what seemed like an eternity — actually, less than a minute but hey, this critter needed out. I decided on an owl, my mom’s favorite animal. I figured I could give her the glorious masterpiece when I finished.

        I took my project into the backyard where I wouldn't have to worry about my feverishly sculpting hands and flying shavings of soap and started to the task at hand; releasing this poor soap owl from its blocky tomb.

        I carefully whittled away at the outer casing as my excitement grew watching this creation unfold before my eyes. I carved and whittled as the bar continually grew smaller and smaller. — Wow, this owl was really buried in there. I was bound and determined to release him come hell or high, soapy water.

        My fervor grew more intense as that bar started to lose shape, looking less and less like a bar and closer to what I envisioned as a beautiful owl. I carved away more and more of what I believed was not part of the beautiful bird in a desperate attempt to free it.

        After a painstakingly long and grueling amount of time passing — about 10 minutes – I realized I had carved right through that owl and left him as part of the many hundreds of soap shavings on that table. All that was left was a sliver of soap and a pile of shavings, along with a washed-up ego. I killed that poor owl before it had a chance to spread its wings; lost forever, never to exist because I didn’t have the skill to chip away only the parts that didn’t look like an owl.

        I gathered up my poor shaven soap and decided at that moment that I wasn’t meant to be a soap carver. All of those poor critters trapped inside bars of soap were not going to die at my hands; no sir, not like that. There wasn't any glory, any beautiful creature for my mom to proudly display. There was only a sad burial in the kitchen sink as I washed away all remnants of my epic fail.

        As I look back now on that day, and the whole soap-owl debacle; I realize that there's more to that saying than what I originally believed. I was only looking at it in its logical sense; from a very narrow perspective. It isn’t just telling us that chipping away until you find what’s inside each piece of stone, bronze, wood or, in my case soap is a marvelous thing waiting to emerge at the hands of someone who can see them trapped inside, (Not I cried the blind man) but applying that logic to our own lives and the things we need to carve away.

        I have realized that sometimes, life is exactly like that elephant or owl trying to escape. Instead of chipping away at that block looking for the hidden objects, maybe we need to chip away at our own lives the same way looking for the hidden glory we all have inside.

        “How do you have a better life? Start carving away anything that doesn’t look like what you envisioned your life to be.”

        We are all a work in progress. Go slow, take it easy and make sure that what you carve away are the parts that don’t look like your future. If you try to go too fast, push too hard, you may end up like my bar of soap; just shavings of what you intended to be.

SP  

There’s no Honor Among Thieves

        Annoying proverbs are repeated with such frequency that

many of us visibly wince whenever we hear them. Part of this, perhaps, is that most of them have an "I told you so" quality about them, sort of a pointless triteness. 

        “You never get a second chance to make a first impression.”

        “All's fair in love and war.”

        “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”

        “There is no honor among thieves.”

        Bla, Bla, Fricking Bla!

        Saying that these are ‘slightly’ annoying is like saying that the Kardashians ‘Like’ Publicity. For me, they are as obviously stupid as fishing for a shark in a toilet.

        I don’t know who actually coined these phrases and I have exhausted many resources trying to find out. Mostly that involves using my google search degree that most of us use when we want to sound like we have done actual research. (But that’s a rant for a later time.) I do believe, however, that the person that did coin this phrase must have been a hypnotist.

        Like so many of you, I am tired of rants that people must get out of their system. Well, here comes another one. Sorry Bout' it!

        I have come to realize that I have chosen to surround myself with “Thieves!” Although, most of them fancy themselves as the Robin Hood type — their entire thievery is believed to be rewarded with the love and admiration of others who receive the spoils of said thievery.

        They rob from the rich and give to the poor, at least in their minds. It’s more like rob from the talented and hard-working and pretend they did all the work – you know, like how I used my google search degree.

        ...But that’s totally different. Right?

        As a lot of you know, I have been performing professionally for almost 20 years. My not so professional career started as a child in plays at school and being the class clown; which didn’t always go over as well as I had planned in my head.

        I wasn’t dismayed; I pursued this adventure into my adulthood, by entertaining at parties and gatherings by just being me. I know this is not specific to me, there are many of you reading this that have been told time after time, “you are the life of the party” or “how funny you are.” And you understand how important it is for your self-esteem to be seen in that way.

        Kardashian – Smardashian! — Don’t judge, it’s how I cope.

        I started a career in standup comedy, worked hard, and actually climbed up the comedy ladder. I performed at many large and well-known comedy clubs across the country, and with many famous comedians such as Louis CK, Sinbad, Louie Anderson, and more.

        After a few years, I had the breakthrough opportunity of my life. I worked with a hypnotist. Watching his show I was mesmerized and entertained like never before. I just knew that this was what I was meant to do with my life. It hit me like a freight train; it was that visceral knowing that you cannot explain, you just know that it is meant to be.

        I enrolled in a class, learned the basics and received a certificate to hypnotize. My new life and career took off.  For the past 19+ years, it has been a rollercoaster of great and amazing things. 

        I have performed in Las Vegas in front of 3000 people, and for major corporations like Microsoft, A.O.L., Time Warner, Fox Broadcasting, and many more. From this I have built and developed several different shows, and, what’s called in the business, “Bits”. That’s how we in the business refer to it — “In the Business”

        In the world of comedy, there are Joke Tellers—Steven Wright, Story Tellers—Ron White, Prop Comics—Carrot Top, and a plethora of in-betweens. However, there is one group that doesn’t get any recognition or even identification as being in the same business, and that group is the Stage Hypnotists. 

        After almost 20 years of making a life “in the business,” I don’t believe we, (present company excluded, of course) deserve to be associated with other comics and comedians. This is a harsh and bold statement coming from someone who had dedicated the last 19+ years of his life striving to make himself a great comedic-hypnotist. 

        I was trained as a comedian working the comedy circuit and paying my dues. I learned from some of the best and I tried very hard to make it in that business. I, however, came to a realization that there were literally millions of comics trying to “Make It” and I fell in love with hypnosis.

        I felt it was my way to succeed. There were a lot fewer hypnotists than there were comedians in the country and I seemed to have a unique ability to make it work. It was as if it was just part of me.

        At the third show I had ever performed in my career, I was approached by a talent agent that was booking shows for a large comedy club. She had been in Las Vegas and California looking at hypnotists to hire for their club and she had not seen anything as good as my show.

        

        This is not an attempt to brag and say how good I am — or maybe it is — Kardashian who?

        I spent months creating and developing a show that I thought would stand out and be better than other hypnotists prior to even stepping foot on stage. And this showed in the performance. Now, when I hear the term comedic-hypnotist, I almost cringe. The largest percentages of all comedic-hypnotists have never had any experience in comedy at all.

        In fact, the only real comedy in their show is the things that their subjects inadvertently do. However, if they get introverted or unwilling participants on stage there is no comedy! Uh-Oh Indie!

        They claim to have the most hilarious show in the country or even the world. I don’t know how many “World’s Funniest Hypnotists” there are.

        Really? The world? Why not the universe? I’m sure you’re a better hypnotist than the ones on Uranus.

        The reason that I can so honestly and powerfully say that I do not believe that we deserve to be in the same rankings as a comedian, isn't because of the fact most don’t have comedy training. It’s actually simpler. Comedians do not steal other comedians’ bits. If they do they are ostracized and shunned by their comedic peers.

        There is a code of ethics among comedians and if you break this code you are deemed a “Hack” (this is the equivalent of a writer that plagiarizes other writers). The majority of Hypnotists that are working today are just that – “Thieves!” I cannot count the number of times I have had a competitor hypnotist come to my show just to steal my bits for their use.  I have even had them tell me this as if it is what we all do. All hypnotists just use anyone’s bits as long as they are funny. 

        Comedians see this and assume we all follow this unwritten rule. For example, I have a friend that is a standup comic. He was at a club with another of my friends watching a hypnosis show, which once again, was hailed as the greatest show ever, when the hypnotist on stage did one of the bits that I have developed for my show.

        This particular bit I spent months on developing, and trying it until it worked, something I do regularly. This hypnotist played it off as his own! He didn’t spend the time working it over and over until it was a smooth, flowing and entertaining bit. He also didn’t have a problem performing it as if he had; stating, “I have to think this stuff up.”

        The second of my friends was shocked because she knew how much effort and time that I had put into this bit and she spoke up, “Isn’t that Shawn’s Bit?” my other friend (the comic) stated, “It’s just hypnosis, they all do that.” It was blown off as a standard among hypnotists.

        This irritates me beyond belief! However, once again “There is no honor among thieves.”  Here is, once again, the greatest comedic-hypnotist in the world – Right? Uranus! and has never had a comedy lesson in his life, yet he calls himself a comedic-hypnotist. 

        That being said I will concede that there are several bits that I would classify as what we call “STOCK”. What this means is that most hypnotists do this particular bit. However, most hypnotists will put their own spin or flair onto it, to try and personalize it and make it just a little different than other hypnotists.

        I am guilty of this, but they eventually get replaced by new and more personal bits. Most comedic-hypnotists rely heavily on these stock bits and they will use it knowing that it is already funny and they do not need to put any effort into it.

        Who needs to go to college, we have Google, right?

        At least I can take pride in knowing that I have studied and worked at making a show that is both entertaining and mesmerizing. I have built and developed new bits and have made a successful career from those, but alas so have the many other hypnotists that have seen my show. 

SP

GPS and the Human Responce

        I have spent many years in the mountain wilderness, hunting, camping, and just relaxing. It has been a family practice since before I was born. It was actually this exact family practice that created me. Not because creating a family takes practice — which I believe it does, but rather I was conceived while my parents were camping in Yellowstone National Park. So I guess you can say I have been part of nature my entire life.

        As a small child we camped, fished and spent as much time in the great outdoors as possible, so when I got married I also practiced family time in the outdoors, — Shut up!  

        My kids grew up in the same fashion that I did, respecting nature and wildlife in all its glory.  I taught them how to find their way through the woods without any means of direction other than their internal compass.

        This is a much harder task than it sounds. I was created in the great outdoors, but somehow the Great Spirit of the Wilderness decided that was enough and failed to equip me with an internal compass. I had to learn how to survive and find directions by the scenery and landmarks, which now in my current condition, makes my life extremely difficult.

        I can’t find North if I am 5 feet from the Pole, let alone on the side of the mountain in 6-foot brush and no other means of directional awareness. So thank the Great Spirit of the Wilderness that there is Global Positioning Satellites or G.P.S. This wonderful device has allowed me to feel free in the mountains once again. All you have to do is program in the place you desire and listen for it to tell you where to go.

        After all the years in law enforcement and marriage, I’m used to people telling me where to go; I’m just not used to it being so polite. The only difference is, unlike everyone else’s way of telling you where to go, you actually have to listen to the G.P.S.

        I realize that it’s hard to believe a highly tuned and proficient piece of electronic equipment over your own senses, but sometimes you have to concede that your senses might not be equipped to handle the current situation.

        When my family grew larger, mostly by marriage, and since my wife and I both only have sisters, new additions were mostly of the brother-in-law category, I would take the new in-laws to the mountains and swamps with me to teach them as I had been taught. When G.P.S. was first introduced we couldn’t wait to put it to use, since mostly what I could teach them is — I had no idea how NOT to get lost. 

        My brother-in-law was the first to acquire one of these new devices of modern mystical madness and we couldn’t wait to use it in a practical application. On our next hunting trip, he programmed in the location of the truck high atop an area of a mountain that we had never explored to date. In total confidence, he would be as efficient as Lewis and Clark in his ability to navigate the terrain and return to the truck in triumphant glory.

        We agreed on a time to return to the truck and set off on our adventures; I, using the terrain and landmarks as I always have and he, using the current outer space technology that he held in his hand. After the predetermined amount of time, I waited at the truck to hear about the conquering hero’s tale of vast and unknown sights. 

        After waiting for 30 min and not hearing from him, I was starting to believe that this new magical device had taken him to places of such glory as he would never want to return.

        I decided that, in hopes that I didn’t destroy his Zen, I should attempt to make contact with him with the radios that we carried for emergency purposes. After a few minutes of callin’ “Breaker Breaker,” he answered. He sounded slightly out of breath and a little more concerned than I expected, considering that he had the miracle of modern life in the palm of his hand.

        After we dispensed with the pleasantries, he said he had no idea where he was and he believed his GPS was defective. He just knew in his heart that he was going in the right direction, buutttt — the GPS kept telling him to go in the exact opposite direction. There was no doubt in his mind that he was correct and that piece of newfangled NASA engendered technology failed, just like the space program that developed it. 

        Did I mention that he liked conspiracy theories — probably not important.         

        After we discussed all other possibilities we decided that I would honk the horn on the truck so he could get his bearings. HONK echoed throughout the hills, as I heard over the radio — “Was that you?” What do you mean was that me? “Try it one more time. I think it echoed off one of the mountains because that honk came from where my GPS is telling me to go.” 

        I laughed out loud the whole time I honked the ‘shave and a haircut two bits’ tune on my truck horn. (You heard the tune in your head, didn’t you?) As the tunes echo faded, I heard over the radio, “You have got to be ‘Honking me’” (add your own expletive). 

        He relied on his own instincts rather than the equipment that was designed for just such an occasion. He refused to believe that the GPS could be more accurate than his own knowledge and experience. After he turned around and made his way back to the truck he tried in vain to make me believe that he just knew that the instrument could not know more than he did.

        Sometimes in life, we choose to not listen to the instrument that the great wilderness spirit gave us, and I’m not just talking about the lack of internal compass that was voted against during the board meeting of my creation.

        We all have the things in our lives that we fight against and believe we know better, but sometimes the information is skewed. I want to, most days, push past what my body tells me I am capable of and defy the internal GPS because I know the correct direction I should go. In every instance I am wrong and I pay for not listening. I have to open my life and mind to the reality that sometimes there are things beyond my control and follow the G.P.S.

SP

Peter Pan and the Neverland Theory

        The fictional land that J.M. Barrie created in his timeless — much like Neverland itself — novel, Peter Pan, is a place of wonder, never-ending childhood, to the point of immortality, and endless fun.

        It’s a place where a mischievous young boy brings three unsuspecting children — the Darlings, and invites them on adventure after adventure in a land full of pirates, fairies, Native Americans, and mermaids; not to mention the evil and despicable captain hook. There’s suspense and laughter as they learn the story of the boy who never grew up.  

        Wouldn’t it be great if there were a Neverland; where we could escape on a daily, or in the case of the Darlings, nightly, basis? Peter Pan gives us an unreality. This unreality is in the name itself, “Neverland.” — The land of Never — but Never what?

        Since the time I was a young boy, I lived very much in a Neverland of sorts. I always had such a wild imagination that at times, I even had a hard time distinguishing reality from my make-believe world. I have come to accept that my Neverland prepared me for my adult life in ways that I could have — well — never imagined as a young man. 

        Neverland is a land of — “Always Never!” — Most people would argue that those two words cannot be used in a sentence together unless it’s prefaced by “You might be a redneck if?” let alone as a descriptor of a situation or place.

        Let’s take a look at the definitions of each word.

Never — At no time in the past or future; on no occasion; not ever.

Always — At all times; on all occasions.

        By sheer definition they seem to contradict each other; however, if I put them into the right context they become complementary.

        My life has been a constant struggle of trying to be good enough. In most cases, I have placed the blame for not being good enough on others. I have recently accepted all the blame for my actions and realized that not being good enough prepared me for life as an adult with a disability.

        I have worked hard to overcome the stumbling blocks that this disorder has put in front of me and turn them into stepping stones on my path through life. I use all the clichés that everyone uses to motivate and inspire forward progression.

        "Never give up.” “Never surrender.” “Never back down.” The list goes on and on but you get the idea. I have used these as statements, on an almost daily basis, to push myself through this disorder.

        I have also used statements like:

There are parts that I will —“Never” be able to overcome.

There are things I will —“Never” be able to accept.

There are situations that I will —“Never” be able to change.

        These “Nevers” I have to accept and move on to the “Nevers” that I can control and change. In My Neverland, I “Always, Never!” Using the prior definitions let put this whole kerfuffle of a description to use.

        “At all times; and on all occasions; I will at no time in the past or future; on no occasion; not ever — Give Up!”

        “At all times; and on all occasions; I will at no time in the past or future; on no occasion; not ever — Surrender!”

        “At all times; and on all occasions; I will at no time in the past or future; on no occasion; not ever — Back Down!”

        The land of Never is an infinite possibility of great and prosperous outcomes. I know that I have a lot to learn and overcome in this roller-coaster that I call life. However, the never-ending possibilities of, “Always Never Land” keeps me striving to move forever forward.

        Until next time, “Second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning."

SP

Bob Ross and Happy Little Trees

        I love Bob Ross. Maybe I should restate that. I love the joy of painting with Bob Ross. I remember as a kid watching him paint the most beautiful landscapes and mountain scenery that you would swear you could actually see a herd of elk walking down the slopes or a flock of birds flying above the waves, all the while, mesmerized by his happy little voice, which was just so soothing and calm as he would give life to the world in his imagination.

        Since its television reincarnation, I sit and listen to him paint and think about what the outcome of his painting will be. Honestly, now it’s more, “what the hell was he smoking?” I mean who in the world besides Bob Ross is hippie enough to have a happy little pocket squirrel? Yes, I said Squirrel.

        There are times now I will sit and stare off into the distance — mostly because that’s what blind people do — and imagine I am looking at the mountains that he would paint. I spent most of my life in the mountains along the Wasatch Front or in the flooded marshes around the Great Salt Lake. Now that those memories and visions are burned into my memory, I have thought about picking up a brush and paint and attempting — which is the key word here — some of the scenes that I still have in my mind’s eye.

        The fact that I couldn’t draw a straight line using a ruler and pencil when I was sighted makes this idea even more daunting. I imagine that I could tap and scrape happy little mountains and trees onto a canvas, all the while my trusty little pocket squirrel chirping his approval. On the upside, I wouldn’t know if it was terrible or if people were trying to humor me by telling me it was great, even if it turned out like a Van Gogh before he learned how to express himself fully.

        I realize through this, that I use the same type of technique to illustrate my life and the people who are in it. Sometimes when I am thinking of someone or a particular event in my life, it is somehow drawn in my mind like an illustration in a magazine or book. I visualize a color pencil drawing caricature of the person that I am talking to, or sometimes, it’s a watercolor where just a bit too much water is used so it’s slightly out of focus.

        I guess it’s my way of keeping the variety in my memories. I don’t remember ever doing it prior to losing my vision but now it’s a daily activity. As conversation unfolds rather than seeing a photograph or video in my mind, I watch as the illustration is drawn out to represent the scenario or situation being discussed.

        I recently finished a book where the author, who writes for a nationally known magazine, regularly has illustrations drawn of him to represent each article that he submits. In his book, he says that he was puzzled and irritated by the way the illustrator portrayed him.

        In his words…

        "I didn’t think he had much range as an illustrator. He usually portrayed me as a clueless moron or depraved psycho. Actually, that’s not completely true; he sometimes came up with hybrids of these, depraved moron or clueless psycho.  I could always count on several constants — yellow bloodshot eyeballs, an oversized red nose and way more blue mascara than I usually wear. When I confronted him with my concerns he said he thought of me more as a sexual deviant that lacks ambition."

        I started to think about the illustrations that appear in my head and that these descriptions are somewhat accurate. Things have always been a little funny in my head and I guess it has just carried over to the way I picture things now that I no longer have the ability to see what’s in front of me.

        I have gone along with this for several years now and haven’t really given it much thought. However, recently I have begun to wonder how others would illustrate me? If imitation is classified as the highest form of compliment, then, illustrations of a person must rank right up there as well. After all, it is a form of imitation although, a more raw form.

        What would others see in my illustration? Would I be that depraved psycho or clueless clown? Maybe I would come across as the overly highlighted and spectacular caricature that you get at carnivals and fairs; with the overlarge eyes and smile with gleaming teeth. Whatever it is, I would hope it would represent the love I have for life.

        Still, I watch, or listen, and create the images of me painting the scenes that are still a huge part of my life and realize how lucky I am. I would have never believed that losing my vision would be such a blessing. It is one of the biggest gifts I have ever received. I never believed I could live without my vision. So much of life is reliant on it; movies, sports, even my own show.

        I have been performing for a large portion of my life and I realize now how important it is to see what is happening on stage.  I have had to rethink my show as a blind person and how I can accommodate others with visual impairments. I now get to experience life in a whole new way. Things I never would have realized as well as things I took for granted have now been brought to my attention. 

        I guess I will just go about my life with my happy little trees and clouds where they live in my happy little mind. And all the while hoping that when people think of me, whatever they decide I should look like – psycho, clown, or overachiever – that I can live up to their illustration.

SP