Z.

Y O U R   N E W   D I G I T A L   H E A D CONNIE is a young woman—approx. 20s—freshly living on her own. (Old Irish:  conn  meaning "sense, reason," or  cenn  meaning "head, chief.") CONNIE is like most young women her age. Typical. Independent. Busy. CONNIE is reliant on her smartphone—as many of us are. CONNIE receives a text message from her mother. TEXT: "I hope you like your present." Present?  CONNIE thinks.  CONNIE's mother—DARINA.  (Slavic:  darŭ , meaning "gift") DARINA has had a strained relationship with her daughter in recent years. CONNIE's growing independence has left DARINA feeling unappreciated. While the two are still in touch, there's been an uncomfortable coldness between them. Hurt. This is why CONNIE is surprised by her Mom's text—and when she discovers a package waiting at her door when she arrives home. CONNIE brings the parcel inside. It's large, a roughly shoulder-width cube. What could it be...

I've obviously covered the barber's chair in previous entries . But I just had an experience moments ago I thought worthy to regale. I sat in the barber's chair, again-- eager to agree with whatever he proposed. "Do you want it like this?" Yes (I don't have a strong preference).  "Would you like it to go up around your ear, here?" Yes (I really don't have a strong preference).  It's the same old song and dance. I know my lackadaisical attitude toward my coiffe makes me a more challenging customer than one who knows what he wants-- but I can't help it. I feel as though the barber is in the best position to tell me what will make me look my best, and I'm not going to insist on a specific style that he or she might not otherwise recommend.  Dealer's choice. You're the professional. Work your magic. I'm here for the show. Well, this was going on-- and bless him, he was a mum barber who was light on the chit-chat. Things were g...

I loved the game of chess as a kid. [? - Inaccuracy.] I loved the idea of the game of chess as a kid. Even more accurately: I wished that I was better at chess than I really was. I still do. The problem was that I didn't have the patience, or the emotional fortitude, to withstand the many necessary defeats that are needed in order to improve my game.  Chess is a series of incremental lessons born out of multiple defeats. Many of them are just absolutely crushing. And if you've played chess, and if you cared about winning, you may have an inkling as to how painful these losses can be. (Though, couldn't this statement be true of anything?) But especially chess! Chessroach. Chess is a cerebral game—so losing can be a stark confrontation with the limits of your intellect and imagination. While I think it is a mistake to equate chess ability with raw intelligence, (or vice-versa), intelligence has a part to play. One does not need to be smart to be successful at chess, but it do...