A Few Minutes Remembering Andy Rooney -- by Margaret Hart

I was sad to hear of the death of "60 Minutes" commentator, Andy Rooney, who passed away on Friday, November 4th. Some people didn't like his style or what he had to say, but many did. I was a fan. I had listened to his closing essays for years, and even tried to emulate his style in college when I was a journalism student.

What I also liked about Mr. Rooney's writing was that he was true to himself. He spoke his mind and he didn't flip flop. He was a "what you see is what you get" kind of individual, and I've always been attracted to that type of person.  But moreover, I liked his wit, and his everyman approach to life. He could make sharpening a pencil interesting. Or at least make us think twice about it. He could make us think twice about almost anything. That was his gift.

It's not easy to put into words the thoughts that are in your head. Some people are good at telling jokes and stories, but try writing them down, or performing to groups of  people and having an impact.  Mr. Rooney's words and thoughts were not so much sophisticated or unique, and he never won a Nobel Prize -- though he did win numerous awards honoring his work -- but he had the gift of storytelling. Most of the time he talked about average things that "we the people" often think about, wonder about, and might write about if we had the right tools -- or the guts. He had all the right tools and didn't appear to care much about what other people thought.

I feel like I grew up on Andy Rooney. I listened to him when I was in my 20s just as much as I did in my 30s and 40s. I don't know what that says about me, but maybe it's my foundation as a journalist, my curiosity about the world and what makes it and people tick, and my need to write my thoughts down. Perhaps that's the link that kept my attention all these years.  Curiosity, I think, is at the heart of what makes good writers. We like to ask questions because we are innately curious about what makes our world go round. Which is not to say I group myself in the category of writers like Mr. Rooney, but I definitely group myself in the category of the innately curious.

To write something or say something of interest doesn't necessarily take a degree in higher education or higher intellect. I think it takes a way of thinking and looking at the world. And a good imagination doesn't' hurt. Look at J.K. Rowling. I wish I could scribble a fantastical story on a coffee shop napkin and turn it into a wonderful best-selling novel...well, maybe I can.

But I digress...I was thinking that in some ways Andy Rooney was one of the best bloggers of his generation. He just did it on television. He gave us weekly anecdotes that made us think, whether we agreed  or not, and sometimes provoked controversy, which made some turn the channel. But for me, I tuned in regularly. It didn't matter what the subject. Rooney turned his thoughts into words and used those words to illustrate his views on whatever he felt like talking about at the time--and he was good at it.

I read that Mr. Rooney really loved his job.  He must have. How else could he have worked until shortly before his death, at age 92. I read he spent more than 60 years at CBS, and 30 of those years as a writer and producer having written over 1,000 essays.  That's a passion for writing. But I think that's also a passion for living. And he certainly lived a long life. Rest in peace Mr. Rooney.  And thanks for the inspiration.

A Shout Out For Perseverance by Maureen Eich VanWalleghan

Recently, I had two appointments with a “spiritual coach.” A woman whom I know through my film work. I knew that she did other things besides acting and one day I bumped into her card on my desk. It was in a basket and I sifted passed it as I was looking for another little piece of paper. Since I am at a place where I am feeling the rejection of not yet having my short film accepted into any of the biggy film festivals where I submitted, six rejects so far...I have been feeling a little deflated. And having an English course not make this semester, I have also been struggling to keep a head of my portion of the family expenses. Just a little beat up is how I am feeling these days.

After my second appointment (which she let me do at a very much reduced rate) she told me I needed to watch Finding Nemo. So I put that on my list of “to do”s. Lucky for me my five year old kept asking to watch it after I brought it home. So the beauty of this site, Motherhood Later, is that most readers will be somewhat familiar with Finding Nemo, possibly having watched in the very recent past, say...maybe last night or last week even. Or maybe the movie is irrevocably burned into their memory center since it was played an inordinate number of times as a favorite movie. It’s easy to see how this might happen with the catchy music and brightly colored animation that children so love.

I had seen if before, but I don’t remember when or why. So my daughter and I watched it. If ever there was a movie about perseverance this is it. The father’s search for Nemo and his task to overcome obstacles and his own fear of the unknown was inspiring. Nemo himself is brave and also inspiring, but at this moment on my own personal journey, the father for obvious reasons is where my mind rested. Thinking of my process to change careers and fully embrace my dream to make money doing what I love—writing and making films—is proving an arduous task fraught with many internal obstacles, not the least of which is believing I can do it...meaning make money at it.

The thing that is most intense is being a mid-lifer stuck in the middle of this tight economy. Before I was a wife and mother, I never hurt for work. Now in the last five years I am “over the proverbial hill” and struggling in ways I could never have fathomed. Anyway, watching Finding Nemo reminded me that if I just keep plugging away in my process no matter how slowly I will eventually get to my end goal of supporting myself as a writer and filmmaker. It was a fifteen year journey before I got myself into and through film school. And now, I do have a unique short film to show for it. A film I really love and that I am very happy to have made. It is my vision.

So in an attempt to “keep swimming, just keep swimming’’ I have decided to let folks see my work on my Vimeo site. It is a moment of being brave and throwing myself into the big blue ocean. Maybe someone will see my work and realize that they have a project that I could do for them. Or maybe a few comments of encouragement will come my way. The journey is long and fraught with danger, mostly imagined. Also I am not swimming in my home turf of NYC, but rather very deep into unknown waters of rural Arizona. I don’t just bump into potential clients. The WAHM situation is always tough, but all the more difficult when finding work. It's not like so many little morsels of work can be plucked at will. So if any reader wanted to check out my work then head over to Vimeo. My student assignment is less than three minutes. The fundraising video is a seven minute investment (my first scriptwriting project ever.) And, my short film, entitled A Blue Uncertain Buzz, is a 13 minute investment in time, but be prepared for crying. It is intense and emotional. Click the link (Maureen Eich VanWalleghan) or paste http://www.vimeo.com/user6053203 into the browser bar.

Here's to swimming deeper into the unknown. Think of Ellen DeGeneres here, singing: "I am just going to keep swimming, keep swimming, keep writing, keep writing, keep working, keep working." My dream to become a WAHM working as a writer and filmmaker can happen...I'm just not sure how long it will take to actualize that.

Dreaming Big by Robin Gorman Newman

Can childhood aspirations grow into adult passions?

Mine did.

I had the pleasure this week of taking a trip down memory lane, and it reminded me of the power of childhood dreams and how they can come true if they mean enough to us.

Seth's school is hosting a parent teach-in program, where parents are invited to participate in the classroom to share an expertise.  I enthusiastically seized the opportunity and volunteered to discuss how to write a book.  And, I invited my friend Puzzle Artist Alli to join me (she and Seth are close) to discuss her work as an artist.  We presented back-to-back, and I thought it was a winning combination.  The teachers agreed.

I have lectured a lot about my books, so speaking comes pretty naturally to me.  This was the first time, though, that I was to speak about my work as a writer.

I lecture best when it's off the cuff, so I didn't plan to write any notes.  I did stop by a store for kids that sells a lot of teaching supplies, and I picked up two posters on writing that I thought would be helpful and provide some talking points.  But, beyond that, my intention was to discuss my love of writing (and reading) as a child their age (8) and how it blossomed into my becoming a published author.  I brought along books I had written and illustrated as a child, read a couple of them to the class, and passed around others.

In deciding what to bring today, it brought back a floodgate of memories.  My parents, and I, had thankfully done a good job of saving books I'd written throughout the years, and they are invaluable treasures and lnks to my past.  To see how I expressed myself then and to take note of what I chose to write about is really intriguing.

It also made me recall the preciousness of childhood.  We all grow up so quickly.  And, back in my elementary school days, sure I had homework, but other than that, my thoughts were free to wander (without to do lists racing through my head), and creating stories was high on my list.  My ideas were never-ending because I gave myself permission to think out of the box, and it happened naturally.  It's really amazing how as kids we have the ability to do that, but once adulthood kicks in, and particularly parenting, and all that comes with it on a daily basis, we have to work to  find the time and space to get in touch with our thoughts (which we sometimes censor). 

It gave me immense pleasure to leave the children in my son's class with the message that anything is possible. If you want to be a writer, and you write as often as you can, then your dream of becoming an author is viable.

As adults, we need to hang on to that philosophy. We're never too old to dream big.and reinvent ourselves or rediscover dreams we had when we were young and take the steps to putting them into action.  No matter how old you are, it feels good to pursue your passions. 

And, I for one, want to be a positive role model for my son.  If he sees me feeling fulfilled and doing things (other than parenting) that are important to me, then he'll know that, while life is a juggling act, we deserve to be gratified.

So, other than your efforts to be a good parent, what do you actively pursue (or what would you aspire to accomplish or learn or explore) that feeds your soul?  If you can't readily the question, I invite you to think back to your childhood.  The answer may then readily present itself.

Same wave length

I just finished reading Robin's blog and I find I have a case of déjà vu. I too recently returned from a business trip that involved a little vacationing time for myself. A movie, a massage, a little shopping...a very interesting prospect for a woman who only has alone time late at night. Sadly, I forgot my journal or not, since as a writer I am doing absolutely no writing at all. I teach writing, but have no landscape in which to think. I have even stopped checking the Lowe's ads for the storage barn, 10' x 10' that I promised to buy myself and make into an office once I started back teaching full time. The question of self-care is something I am grappling with in an ongoing way.

When I first started teaching in NYC and was working on my masters, I had a professor tell me that I needed to put in one hour per day so that I could really get some work done with my poems. After a day of teaching I would usually lay down around 6:30pm and wake up the next morning at 6:00am. I realized I was too wiped out to work in the evenings. At that point in my life, I was single. I finally decided to get up at 5:00am and write till 6:00am. I bought a calendar and on it I recorded every hour of writing with a smiley face. At the end of a month I would count my smiley faces and regularly reached 20 to 25 hours per month. So here's the rub, I keep thinking that I should and could do that again, but now...I get at 5:00am so that I can get myself ready for my day, then get my daughter ready for school, and then leave for work by 7:30am. I wistfully think I could get up at 4:00am, but realistically I sleep so poorly that 5:00am comes quick. Actually, I am rolling out of bed at 5:20 or even 5:30am. Oh yeah and I am now 44 and then I was 36. I am a high energy woman, but not Superwoman. So how do I fit self-care into my life? I haven't resolved this. I am hoping to really make a commitment here on this blog. One of the great side-effects of the one-hour-per-day-each-morning system was that I had done the thing that was most important to me first and as a result tended to feel happier overall. So maybe one hour per week could improve my mood...One hour per week though significantly less than one hour per day would add up and maybe even help create momentum, something every writer needs. The beauty of this blog besides Robin's persistence is that the publishing component makes for instant gratification, which in a busy life is quite satisfying.

When a dear girlfriend from college days--who had children five years before I did and who is four years younger--had her second child, I quipped to a friend "she's going to need a pick ax to carve out time for her work as an artist now that she's got her hands full with two kids." How prophetic those words are since I became a mother.