There’s an interesting event being held the weekend after next at Serendipity Cafe in Magnolia.  It’s called “Seattle Stories” and you can read all about it here.  It’s a storytelling session “for adults, by adults.”  I’m guessing they don’t mean adult as in “racy”, but adult as in “not aimed at a seven-year-old.”  I briefly considered going to the audition, but then wondered what story I would choose to talk about.

I took a too-quick journey backwards through my life and considered most of the possible safe-for-public-consumption events of my thirty-eight years.  There have been some good stories embedded in there; some that are so unique or unusual that I’m sure an audience would appreciate the novelty; some that are so emotional that they even today choke me up a bit; a bit of heroism here, a bit of cowardice there.  Some loves, some laughs, some fun.

Leaving aside for the moment whether or not I’d like to stand up in front of an audience of strangers and tell a true story from my life, it got me to reflecting on the concept of selfhood and to what extent we see ourselves as a collection of stories.  This is timely for me, because I was just recently describing to a friend how a story from years ago still plays out in my head as a defining characteristic of my life today – but it is just a story; it’s not me, it isn’t even about me, really, it was just an event, a serendipitous confluence of fate and circumstance that I still carry around in my back pocket.  But should I?  Am I my stories?

No way.  Stories are backward-looking.  And to the extent that a story gives you meaningful information about yourself, you’ve already internalized it and can make use of it for future decision-making.

So I’m sitting here what stories about myself are still relevant.  Are any of them?  Maybe they all nothing but fine china in the cabinet, nice to look at but ultimately impractical, things that have abstract value to myself and perhaps a few others.

And then I think no, that’s not quite right – stories are more than that, better than that.  It’s somewhere in between.  Stories don’t define me, but they are the glue that helps me connect to others with whom I want to maintain relationships.  I guess the key lesson is that I am more than the sum of my stories, and when a story loses its relevance, it’s OK.

I wonder what an unbiased observer (if such a thing truly exists in our Heisenbergian world) would make of my day.  Feast or famine?  Uplifting story of redemption, or cruel tale of regret and defeat?  Actually, none of the above – just another day of banal desperation masquerading as something else.

It started out promisingly, with an early trip to Zoka to do some coding and deploying and such.  This noble effort, planned so painstakingly in the mind of our hero – that’s me, btw – ended in looping, giant crop-circles of FAIL, owing to some truly wacky architectural decisions made by a predecessor.  At the moment I’m attempting – for I think the fourth time – to download a 4GB database extract that *should* allow me to circumvent some of the problems and get a working system established completely locally.  Right now, when I hit F5, I connect to a French foreign-ministry database, the mobile phone of a Nigerian 419 scammer, and a penguin-habitat monitor that sends binary-encoded environmental data via dialup modem.  It’s a mess.

Next?  A nice interlude – I introduced myself to, and chatted with, a fellow Zokan, a gardener and former rower, a new transplant from Rhode Island by way of Cincinnati.  I was told that I was “friendly for a native Seattleite,” which I took as a big compliment.  I’ve heard that we Seattleites can be polite but standoffish, so it’s nice to put another (small) crack in that stereotype.  I left a business card and hope to possibly catch up for coffee again.

More work chasing my tail, then I admitted defeat for the afternoon and went for a five-mile run at the gym.  I’m scheduled to race in a 5K next Saturday morning, so it’s nice to know that the distance is easily manageable.

Then, home: a typical crisis and catastrophe and sturm und drang and drama and fecklessness in the face of serious circumstances.  I’m tired.  That’s all I have to say about that.

Dinner out with the kids at Serendipity; now I’m waiting for that huge download to finish so I can continue my efforts on this side project.  I won’t finish until tomorrow, and based on how today went, I’m not that confident about saying that.  I’ll do what I can and give my best and over-communicate and be responsible. In the meantime I read through the most recent New Yorker and learned more about Gaza, Ayn Rand, America’s violent exceptionalism, and a tepid but funny review of “Men Who Stare At Goats” by Anthony Lane.  I’m about to pick up a thin volume by Heidegger called “Poetry, Language, and Thought” and am looking forward to more passages like this:

How could cheerfulness stream through us if we wanted to avoid sadness?
Pain gives of its healing power where we least expect it.

Tomorrow AM, weather permitting, I’m taking the kids out for a play date with a friend and his kids.  I’m looking forward to that.  I hope it doesn’t rain.  I’ll take that last sentence as a metaphor for my life right now.  I hope it doesn’t rain.

I’ve not been writing much lately – the urge to express myself has sort of blown out of me like air from a floaty toy at the end of summer – but I am looking forward to BarCamp Seattle ‘09, which will take place this weekend at the Adobe Conference Center in Fremont. Much like MindCamp last November, BarCamp is an unconference for techies, geeks, activists, journalists, and many others. It’s basically going to be a big camp for smart, motivated people.

My motivation is down a little bit this time around, for reasons that have nothing to do with BarCamp or the tech scene in general, but I’m guessing that when I arrive at 10 AM and get a whiff of the energy and enthusiasm of the other 200+ attendees, that I’ll get right into the swing of things.

I have a couple ideas of presentations that I would consider giving. One is on GTD – Getting Things Done – which most of you have heard of, and I know that some of you are devotees of the method. Another would be on …. well, I have another topic in mind, but am not going to share it until I decide if I want to give it or not. Hate to be so cloak-and-dagger, but there’s a lot going on under the covers that I’d rather not blab about with the internet public at large. Careful readers may be able to divine some of what has been happening lately, and how I’m feeling in general, but for the most part it’s boring and not worth public airing.

On a good note, work on my side projects continues to flow along. Programming, being one of those activities that can totally absorb one’s mind while doing it, is actually good for someone who has a lot to think about. A few hours can go by with nary a side thought. Speaking of which, I’m ensconced in a local favorite restaurant (Serendipity) with a Stella and am about to dive in….see you on the flip side!

Today I took my family to Serendipity, a newish cafe in Magnolia Village.  I’m happy to report that it the food is excellent, the coffee is excellent, and that’s not even the best part!

In the back of the seating area, the owners have built a kids’ play area that is surrounded by a low wall.  Parents can grab one of the booths or tables outside the area and keep an eye on the kids while they talk pleasantly among themselves.  It’s a real highlight for harried grownups.  Inside the play area is a tabletop train station, a large dollhouse, and other smaller toys.  It’s fun for diaper butts all the way up to maybe 6-year-olds.

The food was great: my Spanish scramble was as spicy as any I’ve ever had at a breakfast place; great for my taste buds by maybe a bit too much for the average diner.  The French toast was thick, custardy, and loaded with vanilla and cinnamon; a real treat.

At 9:30 on a Sunday morning we did not have to wait in line, which was a real treat since I’m used to the lengthy lines at other Seattle-area breaksfast places like The Dish or Julia’s.

The only downside, and this is being very picky, was that the service was a touch slow; but it ended up being a net positive as my wife and I were able to enjoy our coffee and talk while the kids enjoyed themselves in the play area.

Give it a try – you won’t be disappointed!