Category Archives: Personal

December In The Silence

Banal magic. Walking along the early December streets when the world is silent but my mind isn’t. 

The fog and humidity that permeated the air made the attempt of a snapshot tricky. Because my brain is a feedback loop, the words from SFU ran through my head: “…it’s already gone.” But I tried because sometimes in the briefest of intervals and through the indiscernible capricious luck of the moment, I get a picture that defies the inability to describe the universe in my head at that moment. 

One such picture escaped me. As I walked the dead end length of Leverett, rabbit after rabbit fled from the greens of the apartment complex and across the road into the thick brush. At least a hundred of them made the odyssey in front of me along that strip of road. Does the moment sound magical or mirthsome to people after the fact? Probably not; such moments require presence.

When I doubled back down Poplar, a man on a ridiculously large bicycle asked if I had any money.  I told him no. I saw him near the torn up section of sidewalk being rebuilt near the trail and suspected he might ask me something as I approached. I didn’t catch what he said in reply but the tone was inescapable. “I’m sorry. Have a good morning,”I told him. “F*** you,”he said. “Anatomically improbable,” was my reply. I once again did not catch his response. I’m certain my life is much better because of it.

As I walked the streets, I took a long look at all the houses still lit up by Christmas lights. I wondered if the sentiment of holiday charity and kindness would last as the new year approaches. 

Something I read yesterday popped into my head: “If you don’t give when you have little, you won’t when you have a lot. If you don’t practice attention and love when you’re busy, you won’t when you’re idle. If you don’t wave hello first and often, don’t be surprised if the world seems hostile. And if you haven’t lived long enough to know that on a long enough timeline you could be everyone you see around you, give it time.”

The words sound like a New Year’s invocation. And they feel true. 

Love, X

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Cold Wisdom

Since I went to sleep too early last night, I was up at 12:30. I took advantage to attempt to see the less spectacular Ursid meteor shower. The vantage point in the open parking lot about a half a mile away had too much radiant light interfering. It confuses me when I’m up at that hour because the bars and strip joints still thrive with people making dubious choices. 

But back at the apartment, I used my Star Walk app to orient myself facing Ursa Minor. Normal people refer to it as the Little Dipper. Our current North Star, Polaris, is the end of the handle of the dipper. It could not have been more ideal due to the towering pine trees behind my apartment blocking the moonlight – and most of the city’s lights. The Ursid meteors are more sporadic. I always find myself half frozen with a crick in my neck from soft-focusing my eyes toward the sky. 

Flight Delta DAL 2036 flying from Salt Lake to Fort Lauderdale flew over at 38,000 ft. It was pretty dazzling. 🙂 

I accidentally learn something each time I take the time or make the time to watch the sky. It’s rare for me to watch the stars and not think of my grandpa pointing toward the constellations. He wasn’t well educated. But like most people of his generation, knowing things like that was second nature. Before good maps, GPS, and all the things we take for granted. I wonder what he would think or say if he were standing next to me at 2:00 a.m. in the morning, watching me hold one of the most advanced communication and information devices ever created. 

The irony of me using such a device to watch and learn about remnants of our universe that are 4.5 billion years old isn’t lost on me. 

One thing I do know. Grandpa would have laughed if I told him I was cold and it was about damn time for another cup of coffee. I got my jadeite green coffee cup off the shelf when I went inside. As I drank from it, I thought about the fifty years I’d enjoyed between now and the first time I learned the name of a constellation. 

“Age does not bring wisdom. It brings experience that teaches you that everything passes whether you do anything about it or not.”

X

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Cold – Sublime

Cold winter solstice morning. 

After capturing some birds on my Merlin app, I got on the swing facing the sun. The light blinded me. I wasn’t looking outward anyway.

The cold penetrated me, but it was temporary. 

Everything is, even this sublime moment that looks like a part of an ordinary day. 

Love, X

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Afterwit

There are few opportunities to deploy clever comebacks. Usually, the moment passes, and I think of the perfect response afterward. The French phrase “L’esprit de l’escalier” describes the experience of knowing the ideal reply later. Believe it or not, we have an obsolete phrase in English that encapsulates the same idea: “afterwit.” I vote we bring it back. 

This morning, I proudly used a comeback promptly. 

One of the late-nighters stood by the eternally malfunctioning soda dispenser. These denizens of the night are sometimes called zombies because their higher brain functioning dissipated at least six hours earlier. 

“You look familiar,” she said. 

“I don’t know how. I’ve been in prison for twenty-two years.”

The late-nighter missed the humor in my reply. The clerk looked up and tried not to smile. She’s accustomed to my idiocy. People have a variety of mistaken beliefs about me, all of which I actively encourage. 

“I’m sure I’ve seen you before,” the late-nighter added.

“Well, I used to be in a LOT of adult films.” I didn’t crack a smile. 

As I left, the late-nighter asked the clerk, “Who the hell WAS that?”

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Thanksgiving Surprise

While crossing the parking lot at Harps, I thought I heard someone calling my name. Either that or they were reciting the alphabet. You can’t quite be sure in Fayetteville. 

It was my cousin Diane. She said she had a surprise for me and asked me to drop by her apartment. 

She gave me this brooch. It’s either a beetle or a butterfly from her mom. The wings are spring-mounted, much like my feet when I spot an unattended coffee bar.

Happy Thanksgiving, Diane. 

Mementos and memories.

X

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Change

I walked out into the ocean yesterday onto a sandbar. The water should’ve reached above my waist. Instead, it reached my ankles. Onlookers from the beach no doubt thought that it was an illusion. I was in the water looking for seashells for Erika. She spotted the sandbar from the beach. I’d seen a couple of jellyfish, but it was the fast-moving fish occasionally darting around me that were startling. I’d hoped the oceanside rim of the sandbar held more seashells. 

One of the best moments was watching Erika toss bread into the air. The birds materialized from nowhere, hovering two feet away, awaiting their morsels. One of the birds marched along with us as we made our way down the shoreline; he was one of those illusive Optimist birds. 

This morning’s early walk was cold. It might have been fifty but the brisk wind found every available means to give me the shivers. It’s hard to complain. All these warm November days were a blessing.

PS Acetaminophen (Tylenol) reduces your ability to empathize. One of those bits of trivia that people don’t seem to be aware of. 

X

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Morning

‘Cheer up, Ed. This is not goodbye. It’s just I won’t ever see you again.’ – Frank Drebin…

Yesterday was a day of rain and piling clouds. I took a long walk before it started. Later, we walked along the beach looking for shells a couple of times until the rain started. Erika has covid; early Monday I tested negative but my congestion said otherwise. 

We watched the first 15 episodes of the nostalgic TV show The Waltons. We also watched the storms through the huge wall length windows next to us. 

This morning I got up too early and decided to get dressed and take a long walk immediately, even before I had a cup of coffee. One of the visiting neighbors nearby set off his car alarm at least ten times. I doubt the late night vacationers appreciated the 2:00 a.m. wake up calls. (Except for the sadomasochists, of course.)

Tomorrow morning it will be 20° cooler. A reminder that the warmer weather has been a privilege. 

X

Elsewhere

I woke up the roosters and was out of the hotel room within 10 minutes, after dressing in the mostly dark room. For reasons I can’t remember, it seemed important to get dressed before going out. 

Magee, Mississippi gave me the opportunity to be a stranger in a strange land. It’s one of my favorite things. To wander the dark roads and streets of places I’ve never been and will likely never be again.

With luck, the ocean will be in sight later today. I don’t think I’ve returned since my last visit somewhere around 25 years ago. I’ve lived a couple of lifetimes since. I love the big moments and the epic sights. Who wouldn’t? I still feel like the stolen moments and carved out spontaneous experiences make up the bulk of our lives.

With the exception of the main highway, I owned all the streets this morning. Not a single car passed me. The main highway of course is dotted with people in a hurry to get somewhere else, even at 4:00 in the morning. 

I’ll be one of them later.

I grabbed a cup of coffee on the way out of the hotel lobby prior to my long walk. I’ll bet a million dollars that the cup I get when I go back in will taste immeasurably better. 

It will be the same coffee. But I’ll be a little different. 

Love, X

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Surprise/Change

I left Señor Conejo on Michael’s car. Michael returned to the job he left recently at the inconvenience store, so it seemed appropriate to leave him a head-scratcher of a surprise.

Señor Conejo has adorned the inside corner of my landing post for a couple of years. It came to me because a friend had ordered it from a Temuesque online store. (Where expectations seldom intersect with reality.) I took some time to fix it, paint it, and adorn it with a wild assortment of a doodads. Chris P. Bacon and Redactyl,  my personal weather dinosaur, both still stand guard along the banister rail. 

Señor Conejo undoubtedly was growing concerned with some of the wild neighborhood shenanigans he has witnessed from his perch above the parking lot.

In one way, I hated to part with Señor Conejo. But it’s time for a renewal. Giving away these personal things capriciously gives me a little pause. 

Then I look up into the early morning sky and realize that one day ownership and sentimentality must ceed their claim to whatever comes next. 

The greater our reluctance to step aside, to yield, or to change, the higher the probability of dissatisfaction and unhappiness becomes.

Love, X

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*Now

I visited the cold, clear creek. It was the same as it always is. Indifferent. At the low point, the time change has dramatically shifted the shadows. But in the precarious high spot with a better vantage, there was light. I wish we all had more moments at the apex. Each of us is the creek, passing through. 

X

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