Short takes #1

I read "Getting Rid of the Gun" and "Winter Wheat," I'd like to talk about the latter.

I have a soft spot for stories about grandfathers, as my grandpa is one of my biggest heroes, so this one really cut to the core of me. The essay is an interesting piece on how we sometimes try to look back on our lives with some exaggerations to avoid regrets. I think this goes along well with my first blog post about nostalgia, and I recommend it to anyone who wants a nice short story that's a little sad.

Basically after reading it I was all like:

Mat

Many people often find themselves associating certain smells with certain feelings. There are smells that unearth memories and cause feelings of sensuality, hunger, love, etc. In a way that is unique from the other senses, smell is undoubtedly connected to our emotions, which is why we say that it is possible to "smell fear." Personally, there is a certain smell for me that I have always associated with dread and anticipation.

In high school I was a wrestler, which had its pros and cons. The sense of camaraderie between my friends who wrestled and I was a rare and enjoyable feeling, and we always managed to have a good time. On the other hand, there was the grueling work, the awful process of cutting weight, and the many lost hours to drills and tournaments. Wrestling season was basically a four month long cloud over our calendars where we knew we would be working ourselves to the point of exhaustion six days out of the week. When everyone else went home from school, we began our energy-draining practices which could extend up to three hours. The practice mats were located in a large room behind the gymnasium, and every day around lunch time, you could start to smell it. That smell of the mats: cold, rubbery, and unforgiving. To be honest, I don't even know if it was a real smell, because nobody else seemed to notice it. It was as if the dread caused the smell, and the smell enhanced the dread, and it turned into a never-ending cycle of anticipation. Whatever it was, we all felt it. We all knew that it was only a few hours until it was time to hit the mats.

Essay Emulation Feat. DJ Montaigne

While reading a few of Montaigne's short essays, two features of his writing stuck out to me the most:

1. Duality - Montaigne always presents both sides of an argument, to the point where it sometimes seems as though he's trying to persuade himself. For every idea there is one that opposes it, and Montaigne never shies away from saying so.
2. Subject Association - It never takes very long for Montaigne to go from one subject to another, but he always transitions between topics smoothly and his essays remain concise.

With that in mind, I'm going to lay down a slick verse while my man Montaigne drops a fresh beat.
(I'm going to write a short essay in which I utilize the key features from Montaigne's writing)

Of Nostalgia

I could never write an objective review of the 1987 animated film “The Brave Little Toaster.” It’s not that I have preconceived notions about the personification of kitchen appliances, but simply because it was one of my favorite movies as a child. I have personal memories attached to that movie that are more important to me than what makes an objectively good movie. Every generation seems to have a bad case of “nostalgia glasses,” through which they perceive that the best few years of their lives were undoubtedly the best few years the Earth has had in its billions of years of existence.  Let’s be honest, would “classic rock” be a genre if all of our dads hadn’t gotten laid in the 70’s because of Aerosmith? Probably not.  When memories are attached to a piece of art or entertainment, it becomes something more. It becomes personal. Nostalgia in this sense is sometimes looked at negatively, but I ask why? There is a limit to objective quality, and nostalgia allows us to enjoy things to an extent that would be otherwise impossible.