Deke Arndt

You are unique and special yourself. And you rhyme with much that is good in this world. /fin

The person and the observation were born on the same day, in the same place, and found each other in their second lives. They rhyme with each other. And their thank you notes are always the ones that move me. 5/6

These are amazing and unique people, born into one life, chosen into a next one, carrying elements of both along the way. It’s beautiful that some of the details of their first life are found in a weather observation that is also adopted, cared for and raised to serve a long second life. 4/n

With that in mind, it makes sense
that some of our cards and letters (okay, mostly emails) come from adopted people who are really interested in the weather conditions for the date and place of their birth. A bread crumb to write a few more words in those early chapters of their first life 3/n

If you have the blessing of knowing or being or loving an adopted person, sometimes their earliest years - their “first life” - is shrouded in a kaleidoscopic veil of fractured information. Bread crumbs to early chapters with empty pages. 2/n

As technologies hurl our data into more complexities at dizzying speeds, I’ve come to adore even more the most beautiful score of poetry in our work. Once in a while, we get a call or note, sometimes even a low-tech letter from an adoptee. Friend, me share my appreciation for that with you. 1/n

Lol

Tonight I’m once again massively grateful for the Ronald McDonald House. A recurring blessing for so many of us

Anyway, i - a Luddite - spent half my day off with these tools and they’re (1) very adept when plowing through info dense spaces / long docs (2) oddly terrible doing same on email and (3) recidivist liars. In fact, “thank you for calling out my lie; it will help me lie less” was a common experience

Yes. This. To be fair i tried to explore more useful functions and it’s not really there (yet?). And the other non-email tools are halfway impressive. But, yeah. Inevitable.

:chefs-kiss:

“While Derek Arndt notes your request for input, let it be known that Derek Arndt’s thoughts and suggestions are not merely suggestions, but crucial insights that will undeniably enhance the productivity and impact of the monthly meeting.“

Consolation prize: I have discovered “Same but occasionally refer to myself in the third person with mild to moderate grandiosity”

And just like that, it won’t do it any more (probably for the best). Fun while it lasted.

My work just activated AI tools across the Google workplace. The email one isn’t particularly bright but I’ve delighted myself with “rephrase this as loreena mckennitt” an absurd number of times.

Immigrants were amazing in 1650

This Friday, July 4th, 2025, tens of millions of immigrants will set forth making America smarter, stronger, safer, cleaner, and more beautiful.

This makes July 4, 2025 the same as the 20 thousand Fridays that preceded it.

Fear not, Bluesky. Oklahomans have grown up with the pressures and responsibilities of being the cultural and scientific center of the universe. We will gracefully accept the mantle of being the center of the athletic world.

I miss you too dude!

This is the 30th anniversary of the OKC Bombing. Please let me share a perspective on it. It starts with an Oklahoma geography lesson. 1/n

People who endure my stories hopefully catch the theme that acts of care (caring is an act not a feeling) are generational gifts that grow over time and roll through generations like true love and compound interest. @locoako.bsky.social, this is beautiful. Thank you for sharing.

We are about the same age. If it means anything, it helped to read your remembrance. I had forgotten about The Lights.

Thank you for sharing, and I hope you are well.

That boy on the breathing machine, my son, drove home from college to be with me on a hard weekend. His name is Spencer. /f

breaths of air, stolen by a breakout disease, witness to a man whose last words were “I can’t breathe,” breakout winds flattening the forests of these Appalachians and fanning the flames in which they burn. 15/n

It’s 2025 now. We’ve shared trauma, vast unfairness borne onto innocents, and in our recent national moments of liminality here’s what stuck to our psyche: 14/n

Second, the notion that this boy’s life hung on a breath of air. Amidst all the loss around him, the heroism, the little victories, the horrible defeats, a machine moved air into and out of him; it’s all that mattered. 13/n

First, in the midst of the vast unfairness borne onto innocents, people gave care. To honor the dead, comfort the grieving, to assist the just-surviving, to show up for the living. I sank into an abyss in the following months, but my God the beauty and the meaning of this care moved me. 12/n

If you’ve ever experienced trauma, you know how time slows down and you notice stuff? The liminality of it? Like you can clearly remember the pattern on Sidewalk Woman’s blouse as your car spun through the intersection? In the trauma of the NICU, two things stuck to my psyche: 11/n

Seven years later, my son came into this world eleven weeks ahead of schedule. He couldn’t breathe on his own; most of his roommates were in worse shape. Amazing people attended to them all: the tiny, the struggling, and the hopeless. The NICU is a terrible and beautiful place. 10/n

Second, the notion that the entire rescue effort hinged on a breath of wind. Amidst all of the destructive forces of that day, and all of the heroism, I was panicked that we would miss the breath of wind that would literally bring it all down. 9/n