I Change My Mind More Often than My Underwear

What does it mean that I change my mind so much? As long as it’s just a character flaw I’m fine with that. If it’s an intellectual failing, then I hope no one I like and admire ever reads this.

Here’s my problem: my “playing around” with Audacity and iMovie went well enough, in part because I have the unfair advantage of having played around in the past, that I felt some pressure to outdo myself. Never compete with others–only yourself.

Something else happened, too. I gave myself permission to work on the project I really wanted to work on. It’s been three years since Dad died and I haven’t written about ALS, even though I always intended to. My problem is I don’t want to compose a family photo montage (never!) or merely create a PSA about ALS. I’m not opposed to PSAs–they’re great and positive things, etc.., but using my Project in 90 on a PSA is like…singing “Cats” for tryouts on The Voice.

So, that was the lead up. I’m documenting/reflecting as one part of the larger goals of DMAC. Much of my planning for “Plan C” occurred in my head about 24 hrs ago during my drive home and today during workshop as I started over collecting assets. I have a clear conception of what I want the project to do and what it will look/sound like. Lots of video and audio editing tomorrow remains, though. Below is the draft of the narrative I plan to make and use a voice over in iMovie. Other assets will appear in my project draft(s).

The trouble with ALS is we only know two things about it: Lou Gehrig and Steven Hawking. [Today I consider…] So ALS gets thought of–when it’s thought of at all–as a disease that destroys the body, but leaves the mind untouched.

Dad loved Hawking. He loved technology, science fiction, writing, teaching. He spent half his life working with mentally handicapped and developmentally impaired persons. His expertise made it easy for him to diagnose himself, so he didn’t tell us for a long time.

The trouble is loss of control. Muscle by muscle, limb by limb. Breathing. Incontinence. Emotional control (your brain is a muscle, you know).  ~1:00

The trouble is there is no cure. (Obvious?)

What can ALS teach us about our bodies and our selves? How do we gain control and is it wise to value control of ourselves so highly when control of others is so obviously wrong? Is technology a cure–or a provocation?

[quote Gleason at end?]