Tuesday, February 26, 2008

500 Miles...

"If you miss the train I am on, you will know that I am gone, you can here the whistle a blowin 100 miles" - that was on the radio this morning, and it brought back a sense of youth for me, sitting in the car with my mom and stepdad - a brand new Ford Granada Station Wagon complete with an 8 Track player, and a free CD from the fine folks at Ford Motor Company - we listened to Peter, Paul, and Mary for about a 5,000 mile camping trip from Orlando to Chicago to Philadelphia, and seemingly all points in between.

Somewhat important this morning was another couple of paragraphs that I read, and then I thought about the 10:00 visit with the marriage counselor and that I was 500 miles away - in fact I was 3,000 miles away as that man talked with me, and the tears of my wife dripped on her cheeks - I felt as if that if there was something I could fix,I would have done it years ago - but I don't know that I am able to do the work - I think now I am somewhere else in my life, somewhere different. I am very tired of being a project for someone - I don't want to be the Model Airplane that sits pretty on the shelf and dedicates its time to looking perfect, and to be occasionally dusted off, handled, and put back away until next time - that is not much of a life, in fact, it is more of a purgatory -

I have had several loves throughout my life - Veronika, Leigh Anne, Jennifer, Christy - those are the romantic sort of loves, and of course there are many more with other sorts of options - but I don't want to share those things right now - I just want to enjoy what I have. I want Mine as well - and I don't want to take the easy way out - there are more than two choices, there are an infinite number of possibilities - I want to do the hard work, and want to be full of life -

Someone told me that I was sorrowful and empty - that cannot be further from the truth, I am full - full of life, full of happiness, full of pain, full of hard work, full of the willingness to give 100% to whatever it is that I am doing at the time - I will admit that I search more than others, and am less afraid to express that - but I am so far from sorrow and emptiness right now that I cannot feel it unless I force myself to.

500 miles - there is something for me 500 miles away or 5,000 miles away - there is something for everyone - everywhere - it is just a matter of making the decisions that we all have to make - and that is where the struggle comes from - what do we do - well, generally, we dream about 500 miles away, and stay in that safe circle 5 miles away -

I can't do that anymore.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Long Weeks and Alleyways...

I know most weeks have seven days, and that equates to exactly 168 hours - now the overwhelming majority of those hours are spent either sleeping or working - and the remainder are spent in leisurely hours doing what comes natural, or feels best at the moment, or just doing nothing.

This week, someone threw a monkey wrench in my plans - sort of gigged the spokes of my bicycle that had been running effectively (even if two flat tires and a rear brake that did not work slowed me down a bit) - but I found myself in a place that was Thorazine like, and somewhere between a dream state and a small piece of hell. I lost control, and honestly, it was the first spring I had jumped into since a little boy tubing down the Itchitucknee Springs, cold and fast, but comforting above the waterline - warm sun and beautiful Creedence Clearwater playing in the background.

Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life - what am I walking into, I have no idea other than a place where honesty is supposed to be the measure of the day, but I suspect we are somewhere between a mediator and a referree who will gladly accept his money to make sure that he feigns listening for an hour or so.

I am not really sure where this post is going - I started thinking about cranberry juice and apples with peanut butter, those are good simple things, easy things to enjoy. Then they just get complicated with wax on the apples and peanut butter recalls and the cranberry juice only being 20% juice versus the real strong liquid. None the less, I fixed a glass of high fructose corn syrup and cranberries, and felt my gums cut on the apple with the pasty peanut butter smeared over the top of each slice.

I sat on the slide today and talked on the phone with my best friend, really, right now, my only friend who can understand what the hell I am talking about - I don't have much to be honest or dishonest about, except to say, that there are things that just really matter, and then there are things that don't - in fact, to be a rebel this evening, I washed the lights with the darks on warm water, and overloaded the dishwasher just to have something to do. It was a good call - the weather was 78 degrees, my daughter played in the roses, Charlie searched for plumbers putty, and I just enjoyed the warm plastic and the Florida sun.

I finished my book, it took a while to read the cuckoo's nest, considering that there are parts that were difficult - at times I felt as if I were the big strapping Indian - pushing a mop, keeping my mouth shut, waiting for a McMurphy to make me a bigger stronger man - most times I felt like Harding - the overeducated sell-out that left nothing to chance, and voluntarily committed myself to a secure world of routine treatments - until I feel well enough to do something different.

Learning comes in wierd ways, and my learning last week was painful, but necessary - there are different types of love in this world - passionate, friendly, simple, new, longing, maternal, paternal, brotherly - the list goes on, the knowledge that I gained is that we all need it sometime, and that is what makes all of the difference.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Agua, Agua, Agua...

Water fountains and hoses are a child's playground - and it is a miracle at the little things that entertain the mind of a small child. I watched a little boy, fascinated by "woof-woof's" and "choo-choo's", as I ate dinner the other night, and watched him smile and say hello to everyone (and everything) that he bumped clumsily into as he continued to learn how to explore and walk. He must have been somewhere around two years old, I sat on the patio at Rory's in Edmonds, and his mother, although apparently a little tired, enjoyed his spirit of adventure, and seemed proud by his wanderlust - he never roamed very far, but far enough that he could look behind and see that someone was there, and that was encouragement enough to go back to finding trains and "woof-woof's" -

The vending machine - it had huge pictures of water bottles on it, I slowly followed them after dinner to the ferry, no real reason, and certainly not in a stalking way, but as a silent participant in their family, watching him walk hand in hand with his mother, her compassionate face looking down at him, and his excited face giggling back up at hers. When they hit the vending machine in the sterile ferry building, it was like a playground for the youngster - he was fascinated by the agua button, and was amazed that water actually came out when you pushed the button. He did a little body shake (it is funny to watch a child get that excited at that age, it is almost if their entire body is excited and they tense up with a smile that starts in their eyes and works its way down to their toes) - and exclaimed "Agua, Agua, Agua" - a nice respite from life on the road - not really being a part, but being able to silently stand aside and watch a family smile and play together.

I get in from Cincinnatti at 10:39 and am making a bee-line over to our weekend escape - it will be filled with tennis, running, ocean, and swimming, and will be wonderful to spend two days with no distractions other than those we choose to do - I sat in the hotel late last night and did all of my laundry, and re-packed my bag for early Monday travel - and that act in itself of being ready to go makes the weekend that much easier. My son has sworn that he will not sleep tonight until I get home, and the expectation is that I will be there - he is nine now, almost ten, but much like that little boy the other night, he still has the joy of a child, the huge grin when I get home, the free hugs, the crow landing on the log (a tickle torture that he hates to love), and a good frisbee game or baseball throw or football catch. I see a large amount of me in him - I want him to be able to do things that I was never able to do - make the difficult choices, live within himself, and keep that infantile simplicity of knowing that all you have to do is turn around, and most of the time, there is someone there to help you out.

Well - I need to post something funny - right now, I have made it through about 45 pages of "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest" - and it is difficult to read fiction, but I am thinking of it as literature...

Funny story, tonight, flying back from Seattle, I dozed off on the plane, and had a pretty vivid dream - now when I dream, I tend to speak all kinds of gibberish, and move quite a bit in my sleep - sometimes I wake up feeling worse than I did before I went to bed (most times better) - but although I probably should not share the dream, I can assure the poor fifty something business man sitting next to me had a new appreciation for my dreams - I am not sure how I moved, or what I said, but all I received from him as a parting comment was "Sounds like you had a great flight" with particularly heavy inflection on "great" - yeah, it was a great flight...

Have a nice weekend everyone, and thanks for everything.


Pulp Fiction and Disappointment -

With the exception of Catcher in the Rye, I have not read a fiction book for probably five years - I guess Dr. Suess should count, but those are more allegories for children - and I think there was some non-fiction substance to One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish that I used to read to my son. I did read all of the Harry Potter books, just because my son wanted to read them, and it was a good way to get him interested in reading anything that was not printed on the back of a Captain Crunch box, and although they were good books, I just had a hard time reading about make believe stuff, when the cliche, Life is Stranger than fiction really does hold true.

I took a bump last night on my flight, and probably for the first time in several years heard true disappointment from my wife - she was disappointed for me not being there, and nothing else - and that has been a long time since I have heard that. I was disappointed for other reasons - not being able to spend the day on the beach with my son, not being able to do some arts and crafts at Mimi and Da's house with my daughter, but I was not going to sleep in my own bed anyway, so I figured that would be okay. The disappointment was an honest and pure feeling - I was wondering where I am at, why I am there, and what I need to do to make a decision - and I think that true emotion just shoves a stick in the clear water and stirs up all the mud on the bottom. I really have no idea where I am headed, but I seem to like the walk that I am on, and just continue to follow the path.

The disappointment was transformed this morning into joy, the sunrise visted me with its atypical smile and a good stretch followed by sweet kisses of warmth from its rays made things better - it was one of those rare mornings in Edmonds where the sun is actually out, and you are surrounded by mountains and blue skies. Driving back to the airport this morning, Mt. Rainier said it was okay to be confused, it was not hidden behind its usual cloudy gray coat, and it almost told me that I had my decisions to make, but at the same time, it was okay not to make any decisions right now - Mountains don't have to make decisions, they just get worn down over time, and the decisions make themselves, and for now, I will take that comparison and add it to my list of "guides to living vicariously through mountains" - to be premiered in a later post...

I was on the moving walkway this morning - this is somewhat of an oxymoron, I use the moving walkway to quickly get to my gate, but the majority of folks use the moving walkway as an opportunity to call the person that, for some strange reason, they can only call when they are on a moving walkway. The big people (being politically correct) use this opportunity to shove another chili dog down their gullet, and perhaps let their sweaty ass cheeks cool off in the breeze created by the one mile per hour joyride. It makes no sense to me that you would not walk on the moving walkway, or they would call it the moving standing place - but we are a lazy nation that takes the path of least resistance and distracts ourselves with Chili Dogs and beer.

Anyway, there were two gorgeous little girls traveling to West Virginia with their Grandma and Grandpa, and they were sitting on the walkway, excited that they were able to ride three, and ecstatic that this was their first flight. They were both brunettes with deep brown eyes, and were probably 5 and 4, but you could see that they were fascinated with the world that was around them, if not a little bit scared. I am sure that they will feel some disappointment on this trip - they may not get the candy they wanted, they may not get the stuffed animal, or they may get homesick and miss Mom and Dad while they are at Grandma's - and for me, another valuable lesson. I expect that over the course of my travels there will be disappointment, but much like this mornings Sunrise - I am fascinated by the world I live in, and have opened my eyes so much wider in the past several months. Honesty to oneself and to those around them allows you to soak in the honesty of those other things around you - and granted, although there are those things that we keep tucked away - it still makes the world a large amount more than tolerable or bearable, it makes the world a great place to be.

The sun was my lover this morning, and she was a wonderful companion - and for that, I can deal with a little disappointment.

Thursday, February 14, 2008

Main Street Edmonds, 7:00 PM, Valentine's Day

The town of Edmonds is reminiscent of those perfect little fishing villages that us East Coasters get used to seeing, the perfect cedar shingled houses with wood painted in muted seaworthy tones, the grey and blue and tan occassionally broken up by the whitewashed big house. The town itself is a hodge podge of eclectic little shops that radiate from a central roundabout that is perfectly centered by a fountain, and magically surrounded by planters filled with seasonal flowers, the sidewalks are implanted with glass beads and sidewalk reliefs of trees adorn each corner. The people move slowly, as if there is really nothing to do but walk around that circle, and soak in the odds and ends, and then head down to Claire's for a hot cup of Navy Bean Soup or over to Rory's for a cold beer before watching the ferry run its course.

Speaking of running, this has been a good week in Seattle, it is kind of a refreshing break from the Texas mentality, it's good to get back to a more reasonable group of people, who really know what it's like to have rain 60 days in a row, and can still enjoy the majority of those days. Seattle is a great city, and Edmonds is no exception - it is nice to be able to go to an Indian restauraunt and be delighted with real Indian food, not some Indian Fusion menu that has come up with new ways to ruin a curry with a hot pickled pepper mango chutney and a pistachio crumbled tiki masala. Just the basics, Kingfisher Beer, cold water, and a chicken curry at a 4 on a scale of 1 to 6 - not to mention awesome company and a backdrop of bollywood movies.

I ran this evening before heading to the airport for perhaps the worst flight in the world - the oversold Delta 10:30 red eye back to Atlanta - and then the 7 am flight to Jacksonville - I don't know why I schedule those flights, but I do, and trust me, if every flight was not sold out tomorrow, my somewhat spoiled butt would be resting in the Harbor Inn right now, and gladly leaving the red eyes to those folks who really really really felt like flying all night long so they could be good and exhausted when they walked into the office in the morning (isn't that sadistic - I am one of those people, I just brush my teeth, wash my face, and grab a cup of coffee at the airport, and drive straight to the office - I am not quite sure why, but I do). The hill in Edmonds on Main Street works out to be close to a 5% Grade - that's pretty damn steep and over the course of the run, the hill finally stops about two and a half miles at the Jack in the Box and the Edmonds - Woodway high school. The only way that I can ever run that hill is to fill my mind with other things - distractions - tonight's was Norwegian Daisies - these are no different than any other daisy out there, but the Norwegian Daisy looks particularly beautiful against an irridescent backdrop of soft beautiful skin - that image stuck with me up the entire hill - I could not really recall the face or the eyes - it was an enigma, but I knew it was beautiful, and that was enough to make the difference tonight.

The streets in Edmonds were packed with lovers and friends, and the occassional (I suppose) 92%er that was running or walking, or trying to find something that kept them from thinking about swimming to the moon with the ones they love, or just occupying a bit of the day. For me, the run was a way to separate the where and when and to get prepared for a couple of muscle relaxers and a 6 hour flight home. The Shell Creek was packed with finely polished couples, some smiling, some laughing, some looking bashfully at one another - but as I ran by, one couple caught me by surprise, the twenty something girl was looking through her twenty something boy, and that look struck me - even I, as I ran by could see that she was thinking about what if's or what was, or even why? It was obvious to see that, although finely polished and with a handsome beau, that there was something out there that she was looking too...It's funny that anyone who is not so self absorbed can recognize that longing in people's faces - and anyone who has a thimblefull of compassion is struck by that.

So that was Valentine's Day for me 2008 - sure it was filled with the normal stuff, numbers, disagreements, short drives to the park, stairwell discussions - but the best part of the day came in a yellow envelope, signed by me - it was good, simple, to the point, and most of all, true. That's what I guess Valentine's Day is all about, simple truths like longing, running hills, and images of Norwegian Daisies.

Monday, February 11, 2008

Vilano Beach Day....

It was a little cool - but the sun was good, and it was a wonderful day on the beach...

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Castillo De San Marco...

When folks build these castles, did they think they would become solemn places for little girls to dream and little boys to run around with palm frond swords?

Saturday, February 9, 2008

Pressed Jasmine and Six Mile Runs...

Tonight has been unbelievable - I was supposed to run a seven miler, although I smoke like a West Virginia power plant, and drink a little too much to be considered a serious athlete, I do like to feel the street on the bottoms of my feet - once I get past about 4 miles, my brain starts to think the road is moving - like driving in a car as a child watching the trees go by through the window, feeling the breeze and every once in a while seeing a sign that draws your attention - like the hundreds of miles of South of the Border signs that pop up between Northern Georgia and the South Carolina-North Carolina border. So tonight I went six miles - and gave it everything that I had - it was dark, and there was a smiling moon - I don't know what scientific phase that is, other than it smiles at you as you run, so it kind of laughs as you laugh and keeps you going.

Today was just as good, my little girl lost another tooth, and her gummy grin still lights up the room - we went to the adult version of Chuck E Cheese and played games and laughed and then cashed in our tickets on cool stuff that probably would have been cheaper if bought at Target - but the memories are more important - the money, sure it is important, but to see my son mastering a video motorcycle and laughing as I crash - that was worth it.

Right now there is a movie on that I really don't want to watch - the narrator is guiding us through some affair between a stay at home mother and a father studying for the bar exam, I think it is called "little sisters" with Kate Winslet - and it is depressing me - the sheer thought of having options is the over-riding theme - and those options, really, what options are there - there is a song out there that says life goes to those who choose - and I know there are a million choices - just go into starbucks and watch the first timers try to order a regular cup of coffee to learn that there is no longer just a cup of coffee.

Holding beauty for two hours or twenty years is a crushing feeling - it is an obligation and a respite, a welcome drink and a parching vinegar, a shaking earthquake and a cool bahama breeze. I could never trade what I am feeling now for anything, I could never let go of where I am now or where I have been, and that is what makes the choices seem infintessimal - and makes them seem so reasonable and so easy to make, but so avoidable and caustic.

Pressed Jasmine is amazing - when you open your book, even after pulling the Jasmine out - it is still there, the smell, the shape of the star flowers, the greenish tint of the leaves. That smell still lingers and that's frankly all I really am feeling right now - I can go out on the patio, sit in my overused chairs, and smell the Jasmine.

Tomorrow I am going to the beach with the family at Mickler's Landing - and am going to run and play frisbee, and dig a pretty deep hole - I enjoy digging at the beach, and so do the kids - it is not supposed to be too warm, only 70 degrees, but if I dig hard enough, and keep the kids out of the wind, then it will be a good day. Cold fried chicken and water for lunch, wind from the ocean, and digging a hole with my children. That sounds like the perfect way to worship on Sunday.

Good night, the cadence of the crickets is piping, and I really need to listen to that song tonight, and hear what those brown eyed singers have to say.

Until next time...

Sinking Feeling...

I am going on a short 4 miler tonight - in lieu of the longer 7 miler I was supposed to do - but the kids will be in church in the morning, and I guess it is better that I run the distances when they are away -

I just had the worst sinking feeling. I don't know how to explain it, other than your face goes a little numb, and grows a little long, and your hands are moist and clammy. My elbows are weak, really, they are week, and my head is just numb.

Four miles between me and David Gray - he has a song on his album - Alibi - the words of "Tonight, I am running wild - my Friday night enfant" - they ring in my ears. I want to hurt a little bit tonight - it's a good lesson - and a worthy prize, but at the same time, I just want a little more red wine, and my cheese, and another night on the streets of Austin.

The kids are content munching on their burger king meals and playing with the Snoopy toys, the wife is happy laying in bed watching a movie she has seen thirty times, and I just want to run for a little while.

Haricorts Vert and Hookah Smokin Swingers...

I pulled a fortune out of those twenty five machines that has a dummy who lights a crystal ball and moves her head in a cheap mechanical fashion, and spits out these preprinted cards with your fortune on them - the one that fell out was quite a surprise - I have seen these three monkeys a large amount lately, but was not expecting them from a dime store fortune teller. It was a shock that actually the dark haired thing came up - the reason this blog is now officially by invite only is that there was a co-worker complaint that this was not appropriate - I find that terribly funny - out of the 30,000,000 blogs out there - how in the hell did one person single this out and make a determination that this blog should not be posted - well, that's another story, none the less, I was a good boy, hugged my livelihood, kissed my pride goodby, and proudly fell deeper into the frame of a yes man, and locked this to all other guests (except those that have been lucky enough to receive their golden ticket to read my crap) It's times like these, I really think about how far a company can go? I mean 92% is a large amount of travel, but get real, this is pushing it when you are not told, rather, politely asked in a parental sort of way to remove something that has no bearing on the party asking to remove it. Hey, I guess that is capitalism, and if I want to sell out, then I need to sell out 100%.

I was in Texas this week, between Dallas Fort Worth and Austin, doing those things that I do so well - meeting with people, listening to their concerns, making lists of action items, and fulfilling my responsibilities to the organization - but the great thing was that this was by far the best week I have had at my company - the mornings were wonderful - runs by fields of horses, cold breezes and flocks of magpies, and cheap wine and one pan italian food filled the schedule of things to do outside of the office. The comedy was great - it started with a Texan explaining to me how the lord blessed her office because the secretary lost her baby but the passing of souls went right to her nineteen year old daughter who they figured (this is a unique Texas word - it is like cipherin, but they are always figurin on fixin to do something) - now it is horrible that the secretary lost her child - but how do you temper that pain with something as selfish as "Then my 19 year old got pregnant" - I certainly heard my share of complaints and issues, but the funny thing about all of it - is that not a single person (with the exception of one) really ever presented a solution - just more questions to be researched and reveiwed, then researched again, and finally researched in triplicate. Effienciency is not a civil engineering strong point, and I get the feeling those guys like to talk about a lot of stuff - and I mean alot of stuff, and most of it is self absorbed bullshit that rings over and over again of their own self importance.

Austin is a magical place. The 4th Street music on a Thursday night is a little more rockabilly and alternative than the techno babble swill they are pumping down on sixth street, and the bands seem to love the rock and the crowds more than the somewhat numb and inebriated crowds love the music. I was somewhere in between a lost Muddy Waters t-shirt and rickshaw ride - but all of it was paradise - simple paradise of roses and colored fish sprinkled on the floor, and a musical world of live music and hookah bars. I must have been the clumsiest dancer, or poorest drunk on the street that night - the bruises that I have are in places I never knew I had -
Well I guess finally to the green beans - I learned an amazing french word this week - and when it is said - it sounds like "Hairy Core Bear" - and means simply, green beans. My son was having green beans with his blackened tilapia today, and that word rolled off of my tongue, and somehow I felt better, and enjoyed his smile as I ate a few bites of his haricorts vert - it is such a nice word to hear...I love haricorts vert...

Until next time -


Sunday, February 3, 2008

Finance and Football...

I could bore everyone with what I actually do for a living - I am one of those Generation X's who grew up with a set of keys, and four parents, and movies like Platoon and Wall Street and just enough "mod" haircuts to make all of the high school pictures look great - there was Jerry Falwell and REM to supplant enough religion in our lives and to create that classic cynicism that defines all of us thirty-somethings.

I chose Finance and Accounting - after choosing British Literature, English, Information Technology, and a myriad of other majors that I thought were interesting. For a while I had dreams of becoming an author, travelling the world, selling books about travelling the world - then I realized that I really do like stuff - I mean not in a vain way, but stuff is good. I can get a lot of stuff, then when I bore of that stuff, I can sell that stuff on e-bay and buy more stuff.

Walking into an assignment, it is my job to fetter out emotions and to look into the numbers and find out where the goblins are hiding, and to see if I can find a reason to pay less, or more, but to at least give an honest assessment that, in purest terms,"Protects the interests and assets of the organization". It is an interesting dichotomy for me - that is not who I am - it is what I do, and the funny thing is, people see that as a defining role in our lives.

None the less, today is wonderful - I am taking a short break from the Sunday afternoon football game - my son and daughter love to play a variation of touch football in the backyard - sometimes we play two on two, sometimes we play three on one, but most importantly we just play together. My son is always the quarterback - he gets simple satisfaction of pulling the perfect quarterback sneak, or throwing a good pass to his sister or his mom - and he loves it when I rush - he will scramble nervously for two seconds then just laugh as I pick him up and run him backwards a few yards before falling to the ground. The best part of rushing is when we fall to the ground and just laugh together on the wet Florida ground.

The Superbowl is tonight, and I really don't understand what the hype is about - I love football in the classic sense - but the game itself has become more of a commercial - the best football is played in the backyards and concrete playgrounds across the country - where kids and dads and moms and friends gather to play - and just play - there are no millions riding on the game - just a feeling of togetherness and teamwork.

Last night was a long night - but it was a good night. I was able to talk to my friends, even though I can't see them, I was able to talk to them, and see how they were doing. I was able to sit naked on the patio in the dark next to the fire, and drink water out of the hose. I was able to listen to my music and soak up the perfectly clear night and listen to the wind in the pines. It makes life a great place - it gets rid of the worries of Finance, and just gives us all that feeling of playing football as a kid again...

Saturday, February 2, 2008

Lila and Second Chances

The Jewish Doc called this morning, I guess my Dad shared my blog with him - he is a great guy, tells it like it is, and eats more carrots than any person I have ever met. It was a strange and exciting conversation, but none the less, it was good to talk with him. He reminds me of a co-worker, Bill, a Jewish accountant - a great guy who refuses to quit working because if he did, he would have to spend more time dealing with his ex-wife's taxes, at least at work he gets to drink his coffee in quiet and have a free lunch every now and again.

I had a strange dream this morning - one of my wife's best friends, Ellen (and probably the strongest person emotionally I have ever met) has a little girl - Lila - she is an image of innocence, simple beauty that smiles when you smile, and laughs when you laugh. The picture I put in is a great picture of my huge left nostril - but more importantly, that was the best nap I have had in a long time.

There is nothing more pure than laying next to that brown eyed child - she would nuzzle against my chin - perhaps to feel closer, maybe to feel warmer, or just to let me know that she was still there, and still wanted to sleep and be held a little bit longer - the great thing about that nap was that she gave me just as much warmth and made my heart glow as much as I gave her safety and security.

Well - to the wierd dream - I suppose I was much older, and Lila was as well, but she still had the same face - and the same smile, and she asked me if I could help her "Have a Do Over" - that's basically the concrete stuff I remember - but it has kept me pondering all morning - we don't really need do overs - what we need is do agains! I have pigeon holed my life into compartments - your work, your friends, your family, your issues - each one into a manageable compartment that I can open or close when I feel the need - but it's funny how the brain works - we want to get control, but in all reality - all it takes is that one stop light, or the guy in the cubicle next to you eating fish at lunch, or a strange look from a loved one to break down those barriers that you have - and put them all back into disarray, and then we spend a few more hours re-filing those issues after we spray the cubicle down with Febreeze and politely yell at the guy who has now managed to make the entire office smell like a fish market.

I was in the city in October, and went for an early morning walk to the bakery with Lila - the wind was warning us that winter was coming, and the trees has changed their green outfits for something seasonally appropriate. I sat outside the bakery with Lila as she laughed and giggled - Ellen was grabbing something for Lila, and I was taking something from Lila - her laugh was healing those grown up parts of me, making me realize that she did not have to worry about the life we grown-ups create for ourselves - and her innocence and smile were all that I needed that morning to feel better. That's a little Holden Caufieldish, but we can all agree that a child looking into your eyes and grasping your hand with those little fingers is the best expression of love that there is.

Ellen has the patience of a saint - she is usually a recipient of my late night musings, and wisely turns off her telephone - (I have scrubbed her phone number, and the only time I can remember it is when there are three or four bottles of red wine involved) - and I am lucky enough that most of the time she does not answer, there is nothing I really wanted to talk about anyway - other than to just talk.

This life is no dress rehearsal, and we do not get second chances - everything is a first time, so I guess the best advice that I can give Lila in that dream is - today is what you have, think - but not too much, love - but not too little, dream - but not without action, and live - today.

Until next time


I know more than I knew before...

Odd song, but kitschy enough to get stuck in my head for a little while - the flight back from Seattle was the usual 8 hour ordeal of Hartsfield Jackson, SeaTac, and then the surprise DUI checkpoint - good thing I opted to not enjoy the benefits of first class, and just listen to my new favorite CD.

As far as weeks of travel go - this was a good week - I said goodbye to one co-worker, which in this case, was probably a good thing, and started to see progress in my current assignment - I like progress, it makes me feel useful - but inevitably, that progress leads to a new assignment - and I don't think I really feel like thinking about that right now.

I asked a question this week, and got an answer that was brutally honest - and the truth is that there are questions that you should just never ask - especially when the answer is one you are not prepared to hear - I guess that goes back to the song title - we actually know more than we did before - but do I really need to know those burning answers that create a sinking feeling? I think oblivious is sometimes the best way to be.

Sharing - it's an odd thing - this blog is where I share - and sometimes, I just don't want to share. I guess the mine mentality is stepping up, but who can blame me? I want to be selfish and self-less at the same time, so I guess having your cake and eating it to becomes the wierdest damn circus trick I have ever tried to perform.

Tonight was the typical get home night -the kids are sleeping in my spot, and I will find some space between my little blonde daughter and my brown eyed son, and will wake up on Saturday morning with both of them holding me - and asking me if we can go to Krispy Kreme or Golden Corral - and then asking me if I want to play PlayStation or go to Barbie.com - those are the best mornings - they will be full of smiles, and I decided to stay up late and finish the laundry - so there will not be too many chores to handle and we can just enjoy each other.

It's taxing sometimes to think this much - maybe I wish I knew less than I did before - that would make things a hell of a lot easier.



Friday, February 1, 2008

Rimrock Musings...and 5 am Meetings

Here is what I have to offer - tonight, I watched a man pluck the base guitar deeper and more soulfully than had seen in a while and I spent a decent amount of time thinking and talking.

7:00 AM could never come any sooner - but here is where I am - a crappy poem - but,
none the less, it feels good to write shitty poetry....

Long Ways... Hard Roads...and turn,
the life from portrait to landscape...
and it's funny, no matter how hard the change, it's funny.
To smile as you read sideways or upside down,
To live as you feel sideways or upside down.

Portrait to landscape does not make a change -
other than life -

To smile as you read sideways or upside down,
To live as feel sideways or upside down.

Like I said - shitty - but 7:00 am is still on it's way.

Honesty and Stupidity...

I hate the travel, and I hate the time away, but I realize I am no longer away...

Somewhere between these two realities - there is a wierd sense of being alive- and I do not mean in the sense of a beating heart, I mean in the sense of a world outside your window that beckons you to make a decision....

Tonight, I made more decisions, and discussed more life than I wanted to ever do - it is wierd - I have fallen in love with the sullen emptiness of Edmonds, but feel as full as I ever have in my life. The strange thing is that my heart is broken and I feel every ounce of pain that my wife has felt from me, but at the same time< I also realize if together we are not better, then we have to make a decision - and simply put - I am not sure where my work needs to be,

My wife is a beautiful woman - six feet of pure blonde hair, blue eyed mystic that has teased me for over half of my life - and now I question whether that's what we need together - for so long, I have had this beautiful support, this crutch, this dream to make my life okay - and frankly, so has she.

I don't want a crutch anymore - I want a spirit, a soulmate, a friend, and mostly - someone who can accept the cards at face value, and realize that sometimes, yes sometimes, your full house will be beat by a royal flush.

I keep going back to my son and daughter, and seeing my son's face as he looked into the distance at a baseball game waiting for that flyball to come his way - even at a perfect place - and wonder to myself - how long, how strange, and how much do we have to do until everyone realizes that it does not really matter - and that love and time makes things better - even if the ball does not land our way.

We have a chance in batting practice to catch a fly ball, and sometimes we do - but even better - we have the opportunity to hold a game ball - and you know what - the game ball is so much better...