LUCA DIMATTEO

I get asked over and over why I don’t I write more about writing, you’re an expert at it, aren’t you? I have answered that question a number of different ways over the years. The other day I was watching all the commotion over the Raygun, the Australian B-girl (breakdancer). She has a PhD in Breakdance culture, making her an expert in her field. Everyone is questioning it. It made me pose the question: What does being an expert really mean? I’m an internationally published author with a blog. Am I an expert. I think I am, but for my personal style of writing. Maybe Rachel Gun (Raygun) is a B-girl expert for her personal style.

Authoritarians might say this kind of thinking is a cop out and that it weakens the term expert. Opportunist might say that this thinking lends itself to healthy competition I’m not sure if either are correct. I’m not sure it would make a difference if we didn’t live in a world where having an expensive piece of paper telling everyone you’re expert wasn’t so important.

Back to the topic at hand. I’m never quite sure how to answer the original question because I believe there are many different ways to write. When I was practicing medicine there were certain procedures for certain ailments but they were always being improved on because someone chose to challenge the expert way of doing it. So why shouldn’t that work here. I think it does.

My final conclusion after all writing of words is that when I’m asked again am I asked the question: am I a writing expert? I will reply. Yes, for my style, as you for yours as long as you follow some general guidelines. You know, capitalizations, periods, question marks, no run-on sentences. Oh, don’t ask me about comas they are their own experts.

This blog has been sitting with me for a week as I decide whether or not to publish it. I use words to open the doors of our minds to fascinating concepts and to reveal stories that churn within me. Most of my blogs have been quirky satirical looks at a topic, but this one is about an experience that irked me to no end. I finally chose to share it.

I was in a big box store a few weeks ago waiting in the self-check line and struck up a conversation with a lovely older couple. Note: my wife calls me the Shopping Line Mayor. She says I will talk to anyone about anything at any time. Anyway, my turn came up and I progressed to the open register. As luck would have it the one directly next to me freed up and the aforementioned couple started towards it. Suddenly, a twenty-something-year-old man darted in front of them, nearly knocking the elderly man to the floor.

To my surprise the aged man barked. “Excuse me Sir, you’ll have to wait your turn like the rest of us.”
The rude scruff-faced jerk demanded. “Get back old man. I’m in a rush. You got nowhere to be.” He then raised an open hand.

I could not let this happen. Fully aware of my own age, I moved closer. The younger man turned to me and spouted. “Move away now, Fatso. This isn’t your problem.”

I felt my temperature rise and the muscles in my arms and chest hadn’t tightened like that since I was seventeen. I wasn’t a brawler then nor am I now. But that day… that day, every inch of burned. I responded. “I think you just made it my problem.”

The older man seeing my larger girth and height quietly side-stepped behind me. I was about to move forward when out of nowhere two much larger men grabbed the punk by the arms and lifted off the ground. They quickly identified themselves as store security. A third security office explained that they had watched the whole thing unfold and thanked me for stepping in.
As they manhandled him away from the checkout area the man yelled. “I be outside waiting for the three of you!”

I saw the worry on the older couple’s faces and assured them I would walk them out. It bothered me that part of me wanted him to be waiting in the parking lot. I continued to check out and to question my nature of who I had become. The older couple offered to pay form my groceries but I could let them do that. I felt the release of primal anger and the return of human decency with their gesture.
When we got to the parking lot one of the security officers was still out there. “Don’t worry, we made sure he left.”

I stood with the officer as the older couple walked to their car. They looked around with each step, obviously still shaken by the ordeal. “What happened to us? Where are headed? They’re an old couple.”
He looked at me. “Happens all the time. And at least you where here to help this time.”
I got in my car and the only thought that came to mind was: No, we are no okay.

Ever visit family or friends in a different state and ask them what there is to see or do around here and they just shrug their shoulders. That happened to me a few weeks ago; in the reverse. Over my lifetime I have visited at least twenty U.S. states. I’ve seen their national monuments, parks, mountains, zoos, amusement parks, museums, theaters, and on and on. After being asked the question, I did an online search of things to do in my home state. I found that I had only done or seen less than a third of them. I thought how odd. I began to ask family members, friends, strangers in the grocery store (that got strange looks), and people at the gas station (stranger looks) if they visited attractions or events locally. I even came up with the idea of telling people I was doing research for a new book. Afterall, I am an author.

Most people don’t visit many attractions in their own back yards. I’m not sure if it’s because they work there and vacation someplace else to get away. I wondered if psychologically it doesn’t register as something to do because they have a routine at home. Maybe visiting attractions takes time and planning, and doing it locally doesn’t seem worth the effort.

After putting this much time and research into this, I had to see what was out there. I was amazed at the number of state, county, and local events there was in my state. I don’t want you to think I’m some kind on recluse. I know there is a world of fun out there, but the diversity and sheer number of opportunities was much higher. Surprising, I felt like I was missing out.

There is a certain charm about doing something in the state we live in. Maybe it’s doing with family or friends. Maybe it’s just the pride of it in our home state. Please check out what is going on in your backyard so the next time some one visits and asks you what there is to do you’ll be ready.

We have all been awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of an imaginary intruder, the creaking of our house settling, or a noise outside. Our mind quickly attributes it to something we know, something common. We feel safe again. But what if it’s not that at all? What if every time we place our head down on the pillow and close our eyes, we’re inviting something or some one to join us?

Do I have your attention yet? What am I talking about? I’m letting you into the mind of a writer, a dreamer. Of course, we all can do this. So, what’s the difference. Speaking as writer, we invite and intently listen to the sounds which seem to turn into voices, faces, bodies, and scenes.

Like anyone who keeps a journal, a writer logs these experiences down, but then we go one step further. We publish that journal for the whole world to read. We bare our souls. Am I being a bit overly dramatic? Perhaps, but let’s keep going.

In the vane baring our souls, I will share mine. Here is my process, my journal. The characters in my dreams have conversation with each other and me. I feel as though I am watching an interactive movie and taking notes. Often, I wake in the middle of the night and head to my desk to start typing. I laughingly tell people that rewrites are when the characters come back and tell me where I got it wrong. The story finally unfolds over time and the journal turns into a novel. There are many more steps, but that’s not the purpose here.

Why am I sharing all this? I think it’s important to remind all of us that we are creative in our own way and all we have to do is let it happen and listen to it. The world around moves so quickly and harshly at times that creativity is a built-in escape. We need to take advantage of it. Conversely, we need to also take advantage of the creative gifts that others have laid bare their souls to give us. Creativity comes in some many different forms and accessibility is endless that it’s almost criminal not to take advantage of it—only my opinion.

The Sumerians first wrote down words to record agricultural trade agreements and shortly after that they progressed to poetry. They saw the value of creativity in the written word. Today the written word is used in every imaginable way. How will we use it in the future? How creative can we be?
I hope I was able to tease your creativity and steal you away from the world for a minute. Maybe some day soon you will bear your soul.

How many of you recall being told to study in complete silence?

As you think about your children or grandchildren studying today, does a smile pass across your face? Are you picturing them sitting on a bed, earbuds in, listening to TikTok, Instagram, or some other social media platform as a video and talking head fills a phone screen, and a television blares the latest reality show in the background? Let's not forget the open math book lying in front of them. Yet, they seem to get their homework done.

Here is one more question. Is that scene a blessing or a curse?

For those of us who grew up before cell phones and social media, stereos (before that, Hi-Fi) played music that our parents made us turn off while studying. You need to be able to focus on your homework without distractions. Does that sentence still send a shiver down your spine?

Well, most of us turned out fine. We became focused. We graduated high school, went to college, or went to work. We stayed in those jobs for a long time. That's not the reality of today. The world today has a much faster pace. A pace that requires multitasking and splitting our attention in multiple directions.

If the present generation is required to master constantly shifting their attention, shouldn't they develop that skill at a young age?

As more assembly line jobs automate and technology advances, today's employees seek higher skilled employment. That means leaving behind the focus of doing one task repeatedly. Instead, employees must split their attention between multiple tasks and develop the ability to concentrate equally on each one while being productive.

So, I'll ask it again. Is the scene above a blessing or a curse?

The adage, Out with the old and in with the new, may be key to understanding what is going on here. We, the dinosaurs of focusing on one target may have outlived our stay. The new king is constant change and multitasking and it seems to happen on a little screen all at once.

Perhaps playing computer games, watching thirty-second clips, and texting with virtual friends make up the asteroid that will once again remove dinosaurs. I'd say, "Stay tuned," but that seems a bit passe. Do you think if dinosaurs had little screens, they might have survived?

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Where Are We Going

7/18/2022

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Reading the news is now a courageous act that makes me pose the first of many questions in this month’s blog.

Where are we going?

I can understand the fear of smallpox, AIDS, and SARS, but we have always been able to return to a level of comfort and civility. Since COVID, we have taken the fear surrounding disease and extrapolated it to new levels that encompass every part of society. We now fear that our child will catch being gay, transgender, or even being an immigrant. Our politicians pass laws to protect children from exposure to non-conforming (used unwillingly) persons, and women, or girls, are forced to follow rules that decide what they should do with their bodies.

How did everything become a contagious disease?

We look at our neighbors as though they carry a plaque borne from any one of a thousand choices they made: such judgment, such hatred, and such fear. The extension of this unfounded fear has caused our world to become a violent place. Here in the United States, we can’t go more than two days without hearing about a mass shooting.

Is our future headed for puritanism, the wild west, and unfettered industrialism? Are we saying goodbye to personal rites, gun safety, and ecological protection in one fell swoop?

These are the questions that come to mind.
People who know me will tell you that I am neither far right nor far left but prefer to take each situation individually. I don’t have an answer for any of this. Trust me; if I did, I would be yelling it from every corner of the world. I’m trying my best not to be a contributing factor. Maybe that’s the answer. We all have to stop adding to this growing disease. And there it is! We all don’t have a disease; we may be the disease or at least the agent that spreads it. However, it is hard to sit by, watch what goes on today, and not ask one final question.

As persons and as a society I ask:

Where are we going?

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We Never Know What Might Turnip

6/18/2022

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About a month ago I planted a variety of vegetables in our garden. Soon after that, I began to notice that a few of the plants had missing leaves, especially a turnip that I began cultivating in the winter. Indoors, for those wondering.

This particular turnip plant has an uncanny resilience. I repotted it three times during the winter and ninety percent of its leaves have been eaten, yet, it continues to flourish.

Watching it grow during the winter gave me great joy and now it nourishes whatever nocturnal creature feeds on it. It dawned on me that from the tiniest of turnips to the largest of redwoods, everything serves a purpose.

I’ve seen countless videos on planting and met many people with vegetable gardens and each time a barrier is constructed to keep the wildlife out. I admit that in the past I have done the same. This year I even went as far as buying chicken wire fencing to protect my precious crop. Then I started thinking more about that little turnip plant.

What does it know that I don’t?

Let’s cut to the chase! Somehow, that turnip knows that its purpose was first to bring me joy during the winter and now to continue to feed the displaced wildlife. Okay, that last part about the displaced wildlife is a whole different blog for another day.

Chicken-wire fencing in hand, I came to the conclusion that I might not be as smart as a turnip. I didn’t put the fencing up around the vegetable garden. I learned from that turnip that everyone has a purpose and we all have to do is find it. In this case, my purpose started way back last winter with that turnip plant and now with this garden.

The chicken-wire fencing sits in my garage, still rolled up. The turnip plant continues to grow leaves that get eaten and when my vegetables grow, I will share them with the wildlife. Let’s hope they are as generous.

Before I go any farther, and so you do think hypocritical of me, I do have blueberries that are netted. The netting has been up for a few years and the blueberry branches are poking through a fair amount. The birds can have their share. All can say is that we all have our limits.

What comes to mind now is the groundhog who visited each night to each the peaches that fell on the ground. I didn’t have to pick up the rotted remanences thanks to him. The more interesting part is that he placed the pits in small piles. I like to think his purpose was to help me clean the yard. I hope he comes back this year.

Looking for our purpose, we never know what might turnip.

Let me know your thoughts about this blog.

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No Gain, No Pain

5/18/2022

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The phrase No Pain No Gain has been around for a long time and everyone understands its meaning. These words flashed across my screen a few days ago as Alexa streamed a commentary in the background.

“…Republicans and Democrats will be holding their collective breaths as each side waits to seize control of the US Congress.”

Coincidence or not, these two seemingly unrelated actions events sent a chill through me.
What my ears heard and my eyes read caused me to unknowingly utter, “No gain, no pain.” I let the words and the commentary melt into a single thought.

Our politicians are playing the short game, waiting to gain control with each election. The tangible outcome is that there are no winners. Ineffectiveness and absurdity beseech our country because of this mentality. We need to find a way to return to looking at the long game that our forefathers hoped would sustain this country. This jockeying for our political system’s power is becoming the ever-controlling factor that locks our government into chaos. What if there is nothing to gain?

Picture a US Congress comprised of two members from each state, one from each major party (in both houses). There would be no looking to Gain an advantage in the next election. Neither side can have a numerical benefit. So, pandering and holding out would make no sense.
The stalemate factor might indeed persist for a few terms. That’s the Pain part of the phrase. However, politicians on both sides would soon learn that working together is the only option. That’s how the No comes to rest in front of the word Pain in the new phrase.

The goal of possessing ultimate political party power would be removed from the governing equation. Imagine no need to redistrict, no restricting access to voting, and no crazy rules and laws, like you can’t give a bottle of water to a person standing in a line waiting to vote.

No Gain, No Pain played out in our election process also gives voters equality. More importantly, voters can have a voice that represents them no matter where they live in whatever state.

No Gain, No Pain; tell me what you think.

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Golden Nuggets For Grabs

4/18/2022

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Many years ago, I was sitting in a doctor’s examining room; the problem on my arm was a minor one, but that’s not the point. The doctor entered the room and looked over the matter very cavalierly. This irked me, then he sat back, crossed his arms, and started to speak.

“I just returned to work after a long and painful recuperation from emergency open-heart surgery; this isn’t that big a deal. You will be fine.”

He then handed me a prescription and told me to see the woman at the desk for a follow-up visit in two weeks.

An interesting dichotomy arose from this visit. First, I was glad that it wasn’t anything to worry about. Second, and the actual point of this story, is that visit changed my entire life. From that visit, I learned that everyone has the right to fear something and that no one has the right to trivialize it. Challenges come in infinite sizes and shapes and not one of them means any less to the person experiencing them.

Last week, I was reminded of this story when a couple of friends allowed me to interview them regarding a book they are contributing authors to that has just been released. You can see about Shaman Heart below. I am grateful to them for sharing their life-altering moments and for bringing this story back into view for me.

We all have stories that have helped shape our lives, good and bad. We believe them to be significant no matter how tiny they may seem in the scope of the world. No one can and should try to take their importance away from us. It also bears saying that we need to give respect in reverse.

In the last twenty years or so, I have found that listening to these stories offers me a chance to find a hidden golden nugget of truth for myself. So, I pay attention because I understand that something is there for me. Of course, some will think this is not always the case; I can respect that.

Here’s another golden nugget that took me a long time to grasp. “I don’t need you to solve the issue. I just need you to listen.” Oddly, when we listen, it’s incredible what you can hear.

Golden Nuggets are up for grabs. Who wants one?

What story changed your life and what was the hidden golden nugget you would like to share so others can listen. Please let me know.

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March 18th, 2022

3/18/2022

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Growing up, a neighbor seemed to watch every move made on our street. It was if he knew what we were going to do before we did. I am not saying we looked for trouble or were malicious. If anything, the kids on my street were more on the goodie-two-shoes side. But, of course, that didn’t stop “That Neighbor” from watching and reporting every slight misstep. We all knew this, and so did our parents. Maybe that’s what kept us away from horrific errant ways.

Over the years, I have lived in numerous towns; each had a person who watched the street. Everyone in the neighborhood knows or has an idea who claims the moniker of “That Neighbor.” This person reports on what the people living on the street are doing. They pass on things like; who is remodeling, who is getting a promotion, what kid did something wrong or right, or whose moving in or out. But, until now, I was never really sure how they obtained their information.

Why am I bringing this up? It seems that I have unknowingly become that neighbor. Since 2018 I have been at home. I didn’t realize how much goes on during the day. A neighbor a few doors down also retired around the same time and I guess we have unofficially formed the “That Neighbor” club. We love to share our intel. Some might call it gossip, but it’s more than that. We keep an eye on the street, ensuring that nothing unsavory happens. The rest is… well, you can decide. While my neighbor and I have yet to reach the reporting stage, except to each other, someday we might include others in our club.

I now realize that the old neighbor from my youth was just trying to keep us from more significant troubles. This revelation has given me a new outlook on the man. Perhaps we all need to provide a little more understanding to “That Neighbor” who serves a hidden purpose.

Do we all become cantankerous with time, or do we see things from a wiser perspective? That question is one we must all answer for ourselves. I’m going to choose wiser in some unforeseen way.

I write this as a light-hearted observation. I might be “That Neighbor,” but I know and hopefully can see the lines not to cross.

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<<Previous

What's On My Mind

The Expert

No, We Are Not Okay

In Our Backyards

Baring Your Soul

Dinosaurs and Little Screens

Where Are We Going

We Never Know What Might Turnip

No Gain, No Pain

Golden Nuggets For Grabs

March 18th, 2022

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