Truly understood,

We actually got it, that

Our Existence

Yours and mine,

Was a necessary,

Warm and welcome,

Integral and intimate,

Element of the Web of All Life,

Everywhere.

If you and I spoke our lives

Together, each and every minute,

Deliberately and consciously,

Gleefully and exuberantly Aware

That our Aliveness, our sheer Vitality,

Is required, central to, and decisive for

The World we are committed to…

Would We?

Sing at sunrise

Plant a garden

Kiss a sleeping child?

Might You…

Dance and praise,

Bless and sanctify,

Write a psalm?

A hymn?

What conversations might go out of existence?

What new ones might then be born?

What would you speak?
What are you speaking?
Now, and to Whom?

And if not now,

When?

The great revelation of the night was the opening act, My Brightest Diamond, led by Shara Worden. She's developed her craft to the point where she's not playing the music; the music is playing her. Pure artistry.

One year ago, I was in the midst of possibly leaving Raising More Money, which I ultimately, and thankfully did not do. Anjali and I were about to become a members of Saltwater Unitarian Universalist Church, which has been a real blessing to my life. I was also spending a lot of time shoveling shit in our yard.

Five years ago, the dot-com bust was in full swing in Seattle, and it was not a happy place to be working in. I consoled myself with the fabulous views from my swinging bachelor pad on the west side of Capitol Hill.

Ten years ago, I was living in Ann Arbor, winding down my career as an economic developer, and beginning to work on Web stuff full time. I was a regular at Casey's Tavern. I was also working down the hall from Lou and Peter, who were at work growing Argus Associates.

Twenty years ago, I was a graduate student in Public Policy at the University of Michigan. I was there, because I aspired to be the Governor of Michigan by the time I was 40. Now about to turn 43, I'm grateful that didn't happen, or I probably wouldn't have the life that I have today.

"I think it's arrogant for us to walk into a country where we are just beginning operations and tell that country how to run itself," Mr. Schmidt said during a question-and-answer session with reporters from foreign news organizations.

Schmidt talks as if the Chinese government is "the country", and actually represents the values of the people that live there. That is the very issue upon which the American Revolution was fought, and it's an issue that Google, Microsoft, Yahoo, and a slew of others ignore in pursuit of new markets.

There's nothing new about this - it's the typical excuse that CEOs use, and they're just doing they're job. That said, maybe it's time to retire the "don't be evil" crap. Lying about your "principles" is what's evil.

The Scripting News posting that had the biggest impact on me was written nearly ten years ago, and it was called "The Perfect Parent". Reading that post on the day I read it really helped me move on from my divorce. Dave's more well known contributions may be technological, but Scripting News stayed on my list for 10 years because the technological was always in a context of something very personal and human.

Dave recently posted "Why I will stop blogging". Whether he stops or not, I'm extremely grateful for Dave's commitment for so many years, and I'm sure that what ever space he chooses to inhabit, it will be amazing. Thank you Dave!

The label this CD is on isn't ECM, it's Hermes Records, which exists "to produce and promote modern Iranian Music, discover creative musicians and help artists approach new horizons." Very beautiful stuff on this label, and very much unlike traditional Persian classical music. Iran produces some amazing music; I would so love to see Iranian musicians performing in the US, and to travel there and take it all in.

When I met her, I showed her my kilos of symphonies and sonatas. She started to read them and suddenly came out with a horrible sentence: ‘It's very well written.´ And stopped, with a big period, round like a soccer ball. After a long while, she said: “Here you are like Stravinsky, like Bartok, like Ravel, but you know what happens? I can't find Piazzolla in this.’ And she began to investigate my private life: what I did, what I did and did not play, if I was single, married, or living with someone, she was like an FBI agent! And I was very ashamed to tell her that I was a tango musician. Finally I said, “I play in a ‘night club.´’ I didn't want to say “cabaret.’ And she answered, “Night club, mais oui, but that is a cabaret, isn't it?’ “Yes,’ I answered, and thought, “I'll hit this woman in the head with a radio....’ It wasn't easy to lie to her.

She kept asking: “You say that you are not pianist. What instrument do you play, then?’ And I didn't want to tell her that I was a bandoneon player, because I thought, “Then she will throw me from the fourth floor.’ Finally, I confessed and she asked me to play some bars of a tango of my own. She suddenly opened her eyes, took my hand and told me: “You idiot, that's Piazzolla!’ And I took all the music I composed, ten years of my life, and sent it to hell in two seconds.

There's a story like this opening up now, but on a much more global scale. Something to show us what we're making up isn't really where the truth lies, and there's a voice to be found.

I first met Lou about 15 years ago, when he was a graduate student in Library Science at the University of Michigan. He had longish hair, and was clearly brilliant, and had a great future ahead of him as an academic:

"Dude, I am very smart."

Soon, new adventures called out to Lou, and he founded Argus Associates with Peter Morville. Eventually, they worked in the same building as me in Ann Arbor. During those days, Lou was a mentor to legions of librarians who were brining their much-needed skills to the burgeoning Internet:

"Hi! I'm a Librarian! Would you like
to establish a clean and efficient
taxonomy for your new Web site?

During and after his days at Argus, Lou worked hard to convince the business world of the value of information architecture:

"Perhaps I can interest you in
establishing a navigation system
for your portfolio of
convertible debentures?"

Now well established as one of the fathers of his profession, Lou has adopted a rugged look, able to vanquish any challenge with a whip of his mouse over a Visio pallette:

"Make my day."

The past few years have left me rather out of touch with Lou, which I am sincerely sorry for. Lou is a massive contribution to everyone he meets, especially in his new role as Dad. Happy 40th, sir - may the next part of the journey be even more thrilling.

Earlier this week, a poem by John Brehm entitled "The Poems I Have Not Written" was featured. It's one of my favorite discoveries in a long time.

You too can get a Poem-a-Day by subscribing to the Academy's electronic newsletter.

1. Today at a meeting at work, I asked a co-worker how she could possibly read the tiny print on the spreadsheet she just handed me.

"I'm young." she says.

2. After getting my hair cut this weekend, Anjali remarked in amazement how much gray I have gotten in the last couple years.

3. I've been looking forward to getting a new car in the next year or so, to replace Anjali's beater Toyota. After I pointed out a Mazda RX-8 that I admired, Anjali tells me:

"No, you may not have a cool car. Your days of coolness are over."

"You are 42 and married now, so you are no longer cool."

Thank you to everyone that wished me a happy birthday this week. I am gleefully moving on to the days of old age and treachery.

So...this weekend I spent about 4 hours a day doing loads of weeding, and then spreading healthy amounts of Kellogg Garden Products Soil Building Compost , which has a list of ingredients that only a gardener could love. I wonder if there are "bat farmers" that maintain huge caves for the sole purpose of harvesting guano?

All of the work will be worth it this spring:

The first patch of azaleas are in full bloom, and we can look forward to new colors in the yard every week for the next couple months.

Mr. Vielmetti sent me some very challenging interview questions as part of a fun blogging phenomenon, which I've been stewing over for a week, and which I'll be providing juicy answers to post haste...

I met Dirk only a few times in the mid-1990s, but he made such a huge impression on me that I knew the first time I met him that this was someone I would never forget. I'm a Grand Rapids native, and was working for the University of Michigan at the time, and was amazed at the work he was doing in my home town.

What made such a huge impression was how Dirk created such a space for those around him to express themselves freely, and how he enrolled others to do the same. The impact of his work on West Michigan and the world is immeasurable, and it will continue for decades to come.

Thank you Dirk for all you've done and what you'll continue to do through your work with others.

O'Herlihy's voice will always have a place in my head, because a recording he made in the 1960s of some selected poems from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass. Listening to O'Herlihy's recitation of Song of the Open Road was a pivotal point in my life. His reading of the last few line of that poem still send shivers down my spine:

Allons! be not detain’d!
Let the paper remain on the desk unwritten, and the book on the shelf unopen’d!
Let the tools remain in the workshop! let the money remain unearn’d!
Let the school stand! mind not the cry of the teacher!
Let the preacher preach in his pulpit! let the lawyer plead in the court, and the judge expound the law.

Camorado! I give you my hand!
I give you my love, more precious than money,
I give you myself, before preaching or law;
Will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me?
Shall we stick by each other as long as we live?

Today, I can hardly read a line of Whitman verse without hearing Dan O'Herlihy's voice in my mind.

I want to draw your form,
You who are scattered through files and surprises,
I want to draw your form,
You who are strewn over shrapnel and birds wings,
I want to draw your form,
But the sky snatches my hand.
I want to draw your form,
You who are beleaguered between wind and dagger,
I want to draw your form,
In order to find my form in you.

Discovered yesterday during my first ever visit to the very cool new Seattle Central Public Library