What Wildness Comes Next?

Last night as my wife and I ate dinner at Wendy's in Brevard, NC (yes. I know we are big spenders), we overheard five ladies talking. Here is the truth.

1. They are all over 60.

2. They have dinner and play cards there at Wendy's every Sunday night after church -every Sunday.

3. They were feeling a bit racy last evening since they had 'skipped' church and started playing cards an hour earlier than usual.

Wild times in Brevard, I tell you. I'm not sure it is truly safe to be there on a Sunday evening! What will happen next - Dogs and cats sleeping together?

Seriously, I found the entire scene delightful and worthy of a movie script.

Submerged

It is all gone now - the world of air breathing creatures and screaming sounds demanding, requiring something every moment of all days. Gone. This viscous shell into which I have plunged protects me and presents to me colors vibrant and dancing on the scales of fish and small bubbles of relief, ascending, taking with them each a small measure of my former dependence on demands and oxygen. I grasp razor edged rocks with delicate fingers ignoring pain for freedom and beauty of this moment. I will soon need to return, but not now – not for an eternity of heart beats measured in a few more clicks of the clock – the clock that ticks still, up there.

Juggling?

First. I am NOT a juggler. Nope. Notta.

However, this show was amazing and I discovered an amazing sub-culture that has, well, made me paranoid that there are jugglers everywhere. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

A Writer's Block of Stone - Public Journey #001-2

I'm a bit late with the second phase my public writing journey. Here is what I've 'carved' from the raw block of words - so far.

I grew up in Myrtle Beach, SC one of the largest beach tourist destinations on the east coast. In many ways I was a beach rat, spending my summers working at my family’s ocean front hotels and making friends with our weekly guests, and their daughters. Mine was a life filled with those summer days of youthful zeal, sun-tanned skin, wind blown hair and new beginnings. Every week was a new start with clean rooms and new guests. The four month vacation season dominated all that we did. It seemed that school, and all things winter, were simply the time we spent remembering or preparing for summer. Summer was our time. Summer was the time when we thrived economically and personally. I always lived in summer. The heat of the sun blazed down from the sky and up from the sand. The sea tossed its mist into our air and we breathed in the damp essence of life. Living so close to the sea, we drew our life from it day in and day out. The sea held us and brought life to us. Its vast reservoir, pulsing with each tide, offered to and collected from everything it touched. It is this giving and collecting, that I have witness many times.

The sea gives. My grandfather and father were both sailors. Their comfort with the sea and its gifts of food and fellowship were passed to me. I can remember the day my brother and I spent a day catching hundreds of small ‘spots’ only to face the task of scaling and cleaning them into the night. My grandfather taught us that day about finishing the tasks we started and about the sequence of work to reward. It was fun to catch. It was work to clean. We had to do both to eat. It was the sea, as it lingered in the marsh and inlets that gave us this opportunity.

The sea gives. I have witnessed many occasions of children and adults finding the sea for the first time. They had been inlanders all of their life and never seen the sea. That seems strange to me, even now. What a change of perspective that must be – to see the sea, to see and feel for the first time the sea from which we are created…

Spainsh Moss

Clinging to branches among the oaks

Timeless observer of time’s passing

You sway through breezes and revolutions

Directing humanity’s passage

As if orchestrating a divine symphony

With nothing but a wisp connecting you

To the lofty vantage from which you observe

Coy and unaffected

Your slight presence fans our dreams

As a winter wind stirs the smoldering fire

Little more than air feeds you

A hint of sea salt to spice your tasting

Of our adventures and chaos

You remain, lingering luscious

As the memory of a lover’s sigh

Eternally upon us

A Cup of Character

Below are some excerpts from an essay I'm developing.

The coffee here is horrid. I forget this little fact between visits. It is weak in flavor and appearance. As I settle into my place among the identical sets of heavily varnished oak furniture, I notice this restaurant offers a similar transparency. Country curtains on every window and systematically placed cut-glass salt and pepper shakers proclaim homey character. Maps printed on faux aged parchment and brochures labeled by decade tell us this place is rooted in our own ancestry. Here our personal memories have been catalogued for us, our own character defined.

The character they would have us find here is one of home as if presented in the tidiness of a Norman Rockwell painting. Yes, this place has character written all over the walls, menus, nick-knacks, and the wardrobes of the waitresses. It is a script carefully written by some deliberate designer and published by a majority vote in a boardroom. Yet, if it reads character it reads too loudly…

… This place fails. It isn’t the character that fails. This restaurant doesn’t lack for location, or presentation. What is missing here is something less easily conjured up on design tables or decided upon in board rooms.

The ‘Stinky Cat Coffee Shop’ wasn’t pre-planned. It just happened. Over time, it grew. In its own lore the place was a house, a home. People lived here. They dreamed away nights, ate breakfast together, thought of and planned for days at work and activities at school. They went about practical tasks and created meaningful moments. There are records of this planning and living preserved here. Faint lines on the back of doors catalog the slow ascent of children. Scars on the cabinet doors mark the memory of child safety latches. Claw marks on a door frame are deep assurance that a cat was part of the family.

Time passed and the family left. The house passed from family to tenant to vacancy with each chapter adding its own story to the place. For a while the building sat empty, housing only the occasional vagrant that slipped in to sleep or drink himself into unconsciousness. One sometimes stood in the corner and peed himself when he could do no better. Those stains don’t really come out, no matter how many times you clean and polish. The stains fade and become part of the character of the wood, but they do not disappear.

People disappeared and smaller occupants arrived. Squirrels hoarded acorns, rats nested, insects bored into the wood and things too small and transient to leave much of a legacy for us to see all made their contributions. In the scratches on the doors, the discolorations of the wood, the layers of paint, partially missing wallpaper and yellowed tile they all left their marks. People, insects and rodents alike have all left something of themselves…

…This place speaks its story softly but intently brushing against every occupant, purring an old and worthy message…

ForestFear

Remember when

We found the forest

Together

Intense, alluring and terrible

We cowered in fear

Shadows danced

Masked marauders set on our capture

Thorns, impenetrable barriers

Pole arms of razor steel

To strip flesh and life from bone

Time

We eventually found our way

Safely among these harrowing acquaintances

Shadows became nuances of light

Painting images of complex contrast upon

Canvases of hope

Spears’ edges, properly marked and navigated

Became safe havens

Briar patches of protection

Time

Now, you and I

Are bored and dumb

Silently wishing for

Another forest to conquer

Resolute Living

We are far enough into the New Year that I have heard and read my fair share of New Year’s posts and opinions.  I guess I’ll take a moment and share my thoughts.

Often I find myself looking in to the New Year and thinking about what new things I want to accomplish. Resolutions are often about what we want to make different in our lives: loose ten pounds, run a marathon, get a better job, save money, reduce debt, stop smoking, etc. There are a few things I hope to accomplish this year, and the truth is that my bets hope of accomplishing these new things isn’t a magical New Year’s resolution. 

I do well to look not so much at what I want to change, but what I am currently doing that is working. Even a momentary reflection on the characteristics of my life that contribute to my success reveals simple habits that, while often difficult to follow, are essential to getting anything done. This year I am beginning with a New Year’s Renew list. I am renewing my commitment to the habits and actions that are a part of my success and then looking at a few things I want to accomplish with these proven, daily habits. The difference is that I am focusing on resolute living rather than living a list of resolutions.

Resolute Living

1. Each day I will decide to abstain from alcohol and other drugs. I have made this choice daily since July 10, 1999 and it has made all the difference in my life
   
2. Pray each morning for “Knowledge of God’s will for me and the power to carry that out.”
3. Respect other peoples (and my) time – be where I have agreed to be when I have agreed to be there. I am not perfect at executing this, but I am committed to the value of it.
4. Be mindful of the Rotary Four-Way Test – Of The Things We Say and Do
1. Is it the Truth?
2. Is it fair to all concerned?
3. Will it build good will and better friendships?
4. Is it beneficial to all concerned?

5. Listen to others and seek to understand their point of view.
6. Pay my bills on time.
7. Exercise multiple times each week.
8. Keep my weight between 145-155lbs.
9. Take the medications prescribed by my doctor as prescribed.
10. Hike.
11. Get a full night’s sleep (6-8 hrs) most nights.
12. Read books for fun.
13. Read books for education.
14. Maintain a blog.
15. Save some money each month.
16. Tell jokes (no matter how lame).
17. Read the comics.
18. Volunteer to help others in some way every month.
19. Work the steps of the simple program that I have chosen to help me better live my life.
20. Never take the advice of someone more messed up than I am.
21. Write about the creative ideas and images that move me.
22. Work faithfully and dependably for my income.
23. Take a vacation with my wife. 

Resolutions for 2009 

1. Attend a writing workshop/class.
2. Speak publicly ten times.
3. Submit something written for publication.
4. Hike the Alum Cave Trail.
5. Purchase a new Audio/Video system for the den.

I am sure there is more, but this is what I have for here, for now…

New York City In 3 Days

We are back from our Thanksgiving trip to New York City. This was my first trip to the City, so I wanted to make the most of it. My wife and I met up with my daughter (she is doing an internship with the David Letterman Show) and we were off and running. I've listed below a quick, and I am sure incomplete, rundown of our activities. Once I get some sleep and the pictures in order I am sure I'll have more to share - photos and links to come.

NYC in Three Days

Wednesday
6:00 a.m. travel to Charlotte, NC
9:10 fight to Newark, NY
1:00 South-West Manhattan Marriott Downtown – check-in
2:00 - First subway ride to Uptown (47th and 7th)
Walked Broadway, Lincoln Center, Time Warner Plaza - until 3:15
3:15- 5:30 – taping of David Letterman Show Thanksgiving Eve (Terri Hatcher and Ludacris)
5:30-7:00 – walk to and dinner at Carnegie's Deli with friends
7:00-11:00 walking Broadway, Times Square, then to Shubert theatre for Spamalot
11:00 – 2:30 – walking Uptown, Central Park, Watching the Macy’s parade balloons filled up, subway back to hotel (accidentally via the Bronx. Darn subway detours).

Thursday
2:30- 6:00 slept - sorta
6:00 – 8:00 up, eat, dress and walk to Battery Park – ferry to Liberty Island
8:30-11:00 Liberty Island - Statue and museum tour
11:00 – 3:00 Ellis Island and tour of Immigration Museum
3:00 – 3:45 back to NYC and nap until
4:50-8:00 – subway back uptown, walk, eat (Carnegie's again), Rockefeller Center, Carnegie Hall, Saks Fifth Ave (great Christmas Windows), Empire State Building (from a distance)
BACK TO Manhattan

9:00 p.m. - 7:00 a.m. slept better, ate, showered, planned

Friday
8:45 – out for coffee at Star Bucks
9:30- World Trade Center site debris
10:00-1:00 St. Paul’s Chapel, SOHO, Greenwich Village
1:00-2:00 Tour of Madison Square Gardens – Nicks and Rangers locker rooms (size 21 shoes!)
2:00- 5:30 Madison Avenue, Park Avenue, High Tea at Lowell
5:30 - 10:00 Central Park, Roosevelt Plaza, Radio City Music Hall, Rockefeller Center, ST. Patrick’s Cathedral, The Plaza, Grand Central Station, Wall Street

10:30 – Lights out..

Saturday
2:45 a.m. up and out to the Airport…Zzzzzzzzzzzzs in flight
11:45 Back in Winston-Salem, NC!

The Last Cicada

The last cicada sings
Into the crisp fall air
A final call of
Fall’s end, winter’s era

Leaves cling
To branches high
Not one wants
To release and die

A father dreams
Of his son’s flight
But silence returns
From this season’s night

[Chorus]
Seasons change
Seasons go
Season remain
Ever so slow

Summer leaves
To find its fall
The stillness breaks
Upon us all

The last cicada sings
The final tear falls
We are cold
We are so small

A baby cries
Her first breath of life
Mother’s arms are gone
An women will live in strife

[Chorus]

Sometimes we must burrow
Deep into the earth
Waiting there, searching
For the matter of our birth

Remembering when we can
That as this begins
We can return as
The last cicada sings

[Chorus]

The last cicada sings
Into the crisp fall air
A final call of
Fall’s end, winter’s era

Leaves cling
To branches high
Not one wants
To release and die


NOTE: in the depths of a hike in SC, i heard a lone cicada. while only weeks before i had heard the deafening noise of thier community screaming, only one remained. the words above come from that last cicada's song.