Keepin' It Real with Cam Marston
On this week's Keepin It Real, Cam wonders if we have what it takes any more. If the thumbs up button is as far as we'll go or as much as we'll do. ----- David Brooks wrote a column in the New York Times last week calling for a, quote “comprehensive national civic uprising.” There are well over four thousand comments with most being something along the lines of “Yes. It’s about time. Someone should do something.” Brooks’ says the Trump administration has gone too far, that we are indeed in a constitutional crisis, and it’s time to act. But, I wonder, do we have what it takes to...
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On this week's Keepin' It Real, Cam tells us that based on a series of recent events, he has two people he'd like offer up as potentially superb spies. ----- My twins are high school juniors, and prom was last Saturday night. The event went something like this: For my son: He brought his Joseph Banks suit downstairs about noon. It looked like it had been in a pile on the floor since he last wore it in March. There was a button-down shirt with it. My wife took the clothes and began steaming the wrinkles out. She asked “What flowers did you get your date.” A blank look. “Go to Publix and...
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On today's Keepin' it Real, Cam reports on a writer's conference he attended last weekend where a good part of the conversation was about using AI. All the writers, Cam reports, choose to not use it, preferring to remain "pure." ----- I attended a writers' conference last Saturday. Writers are a curious breed, convinced their unique perspective on describing something as mundane as a sunset is groundbreaking and essential. I love them. But they’re weird. This year, though, a frequent topic was artificial intelligence – how do writers use it, if at all. Speaker after speaker claimed they...
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Cam and his wife were at a wedding reception last week. It was beautiful. One conversation, though, has stuck with him. ----- My wife and I stood with a young man at a wedding Saturday night as he lamented the lack of turkeys to hunt at his camp. There were no gobblers, he said, and he was a bit down in the mouth about it. “Why,” my wife asked. “In the spring,” he said, “the hens move to a different place where they like the environment for nesting. The gobblers follow. And wherever those hens go, it’s not on our property. I wish there were something about our place that the hens...
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It's been a long week for Cam. He's going to get paid one hundred dollars for two days of work that he is required by law to perform. He didn't enjoy it but it wasn't because of the low pay. ------ In grade school I never wanted to be the one to pick teams. I was afraid of hurting someone’s feelings. It’s ridiculous, I know. I like to get along. I like to see people succeed. I’ve never wanted to be the arbiter of someone’s else’s happiness. That responsibility scares me. Monday morning, I was selected as a jury member for a federal trial. It was my first time doing this. I was one of...
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On this week's Keepin It Real, Cam Marston shares what exhausts him and how a good conversation is hard to find. ----- It was 1,000 one-minute conversations. A collection of people who all were within a degree, maybe a half a degree, of separation. Hardly a meaningful chat and as the event wore on, the meaningfulness of the chats dwindled further. For so little conversation, it was exhausting. I think maybe that conversations that skim along the veneer of content are more taxing than digging into content. I don’t know. But when I left, I was completely spent. I’m like so many other people...
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On today's Keeping It Real, Cam recounts his birthday week which has some unexpected surges of happiness. ----- Happiness is fleeting. It never lasts and I’m not sure it’s supposed to. It’s different than joy and contentment and pleasantness. Happiness bubbles up from an unexpected place and last such a short time. And when it arrives, it sometimes brings tears. Living in constant happiness would render us nearly helpless. It immobilizes you. Living in joy and contentment is great with, hopefully, unexpected surges of happiness from time to time that render us speechless. For my...
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On this week's Keepin' It Real, Cam explains the Ft Lauderdale accord and how it's telling him that it's time to move on. ----- My wife and I will be empty nesters in eighteen months. If all goes according to plan, in that time our youngest two will graduate and head to college and if looking back is anything like looking ahead, these next eighteen months will fly by. If you’re a regular listener, you know that my wife and I have four kids. We purchased this house with a family of six in mind. With only two kids left at home, it’s already a lot of space and in eighteen months it will be...
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On today's Keepin It Real, Cam reports back about his most memorable event on his recent trip to Brazil. He traveled a long way to come back with this... ------ Cachaca is a Brazilian alcohol that was first made by the slaves the Portuguese brought to Brazil. It’s sugar cane based. Very sweet. And like gumbo, red beans and rice, jazz music, and the Mississippi delta blues among other things, it was what the poor people created due to a lack of resources and that the wealthy people eventually wanted. Crazy how that works so predictably. It’s like clockwork. Anyway, my wife and I were...
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Today on Keepin' It Real, Cam looses focus and finds his mind wandering about an upcoming trip instead of focusing on what need to be done. ----- My day today will be spent studying Brazilian demographics. And I know what you’re thinking: How did I get so lucky? I mean, come on, most of us have to work but you get to spend your day studying Brazilian demographics. How is that fair? Friday, my wife and I leave for a week in Brazil. I’ve been invited to speak at a conference next week in Sao Paulo. These types of invitations are rare for me. While at a conference in November, a young...
info_outlineOn today's Keeping It Real, Cam recounts his birthday week which has some unexpected surges of happiness.
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Happiness is fleeting. It never lasts and I’m not sure it’s supposed to. It’s different than joy and contentment and pleasantness. Happiness bubbles up from an unexpected place and last such a short time. And when it arrives, it sometimes brings tears. Living in constant happiness would render us nearly helpless. It immobilizes you. Living in joy and contentment is great with, hopefully, unexpected surges of happiness from time to time that render us speechless.
For my fifty-sixth birthday earlier this week, the good Lord sent me several surges of happiness. I’m old enough now, and wise enough, to know what they are when I feel them and to do my best to live in them for the moments they’re with me. To document them in my head, to let them imprint on my brain, and to know that they’ll end and to cherish their memories.
The first one came when a small team of which I was a member successfully executed the opening an event. It was better, I think, than what we had expected. I looked over a large crowd who acknowledged our efforts with a celebratory cheer that lasted and lasted as some of the people we had worked to recognize where indeed recognized the way my team and I had hoped. I looked at my teammate and our grins were, well, enormous. Our celebratory hug was spontaneous, genuine, and heartfelt.
Then I watched as one of my children entertained her friends from Oxford who had never seen a Mardi Gras parade or a Mardi Gras ball. They were overwhelmed. My daughter took such great pride in introducing her friends to her traditions and her roots and her friends soaked it all in. They ate it all up. They showed immense gratitude to my daughter in all the experiences they had and all the memories they received. I was happy when I saw my daughter beaming with pride. Her friends had seen and truly appreciated what she was so proud of.
And then there’s the moment that brought the tears. It was a friend of my late mother’s who looked at my daughter and immediately saw her. Saw my mother. She said it was in her face and her joyfulness. I confess I had never seen it. My daughter’s only ever looked like my daughter but when I looked through my mother’s friend’s eyes, I saw it. As I stood with my mother’s friend, she began tearing up at the memory of my mother which had suddenly surged back. When I saw the tears and looked at my daughter through her eyes, I felt a surge of sadness, of ache, and, there in it all, was happiness. Happiness that my mother was so loved. My mother died three years ago on Wednesday. And for my birthday I was reminded that my mother was gone only if I let her be. I was reminded that I can keep her with me. Her memory is one I have access to. One I can control. One I can choose. And rather than feel sadness at her untimely loss, I can choose happiness that I remember her. And I did. And I felt it.
I’m Cam Marston, just trying to keep it real.