Listening to the sounds of frogs on my porch is a soothing effect of many levels. It's not so much the noise, but the silence. The longing of nature calling out so innocently in the night. The dripping of the rain. The wind howling like a lost child. The moderation of coffee and the intake of alcohol. We lay on the chairs of life that embrace our bodies to the sun. And we listen. We listen to nature like an owl in the woods on a hot summer night. His head turning in all directions to hear the faintest of memories. A crunch of the grass. Pine needles falling from the sound of the wind. Within all of us is nature. A longing to be in this world of unknown. Our eyes focus on objects that are in the distance. We smell the hush of dew in the early mornings. We breathe in. We hesitate to the night. We breathe out. And we drop our minds in the same instance. We try not to look back at the wrong and the right. We linger in the fallen leaves and put one foot in front of the other. We explore. We hug and embrace the passion within. And our heads turn again. We try not to move our hands, but the cobwebs are too deep. We rollover. We sleep. We cannot complete this absurd manifestation of why. We only know that joy is near. And so the night continues...
Saturday, June 25, 2011
They say that variety is the spice of life. They also say that laughter is the best medicine. So tonight, I'm cooking up some laughter. They say a great chef can cook anything from the simplest ingredients. Tonight's Dinner: Laughter, a medicinal affair. (In all honesty people, I'm totally winging it. So, let's make some laughter!) I think of laughter as warmth. It'll probably be of silly and rye. Most of my friends will say that it would be dry. It could be of liquid and far out in space. I wonder if I could give it a face. The insides would sparkle of glimmer and fireworks. The frame work of which would be sunshine and fishhooks. We'd lay in our hammocks and roll with the punches. Our fathers would gather and eat all their lunches. We'd sit by the pool and open the pop. Our minds would be dusted with mindful entertainment. Our souls would be submerged in ice cream basements. The taste of vanilla and sweet would be in the air. And sometimes the chicory would be too much to bare. With my coffee in hand and my other in motion, the waves of salt would cause some with emotion. The slap stick of knees would buckle under consent. My peers would be seeking the laws of repent. I'd wipe all the tears from my squinting eyes. I might even go catch some fireflies. The nights would be dark and full of despair, but the cackle of wisdom would be something to share. The purring of cats and the barking of dogs. The smell of the fresh as we cut into logs. I'd swear by the hair on my chiny, chiny chin that the silence of sunrise would warm us within. My shirt is now off and I must confess, that a bottle of laughter would cost quit a guess. There would be no price and pay for the right, while others would fuss and cause such a sight. The honey would stick to the bears fat cheeks and the world would be better with Pooh's by our feet. I'd cry out for embrace and fall to my knees, only to find out that laughter said "Please."
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
One of the nicest words in the dictionary is friendship. It's pretty hard to explain, but easy to identify. It's not that complicated, but enduring to come by. I don't know the exact origin of the word, but I'm sure it goes back many, many years. I'm thinking Old World culture. European descent. Possibly derived in times of trouble and despair. When rulers held the world and the rest of us were just their slaves. Friendship comes in all shapes and sizes. It crosses many lines and tracks itself against many odds. It lies at heart. Not in the heart, but at heart. It is generational and holds many colors. It bears arms and waves white flags. It challenges us. Some of us challenge it. We try to take charge of one that will happen. Usually, this won't happen again. Time is non relevant in friendship. There are boundaries that are crossed and lines that are broken. There are words that are spoken and others that are whispers. There are laughs and chuckles. There are moments of hush. And there are screams of silence. There is wanderlust and tearing eyes with glances, nods and "How do ya' dos?" I've seen the sweat and the taste of tears. I've heard the rolling laughter that ends up on the kitchen floor. The taste of friendship is sincere. There is the sweet and the salty. The fruity and tart. The sour lemons that turn into cotton candy. So light and airy. I've seen the might have beens and the eventual comebacks. The cast-iron skillets were as old as molasses and we all know that friends can't be shaped. Some are hard and some are soft. A simple smile can go the longest of days. A hesitance can fracture a lifetime. Band aids come and band aids go. Scars are forever. We have to sometimes adjust to friendship. It may not be easy, but it will always follow through. The roads will be walked and the telephones will be talked . The dirt will taste and sometimes turn to mud. We throw our fits onto blankets by the fire. Some will turn into flames and others will be an open book with many chapters. Never knowing when to end and others right around the bend. To friendship: a toast to believing in all that may happen in life!
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Have you ever looked at the mirror and asked yourself Why? or Why Me? or Why Not Me? It's easy to do, isn't it? The nights of rain and the high heats of the day bring summer into the equation for another year. The days are longer and the nights are wiser. The mosquitoes have infiltrated to bearing their arms and the taste of ice cream is oh so sweet. We lay in the sprinklers and lay by the pool. Our teeth get whiter and our skin more older. The smell of barbecue is right around the corner of your nose and by the time you lick your lips, the source is already gone. There are the watermelon spitting seed contests and the sound of Coca-Cola being opened continuously all day. We sleep in our cars with no A.C. and build a bonfire in the backyard to roast our marshmallows and our fingers. We dare not watch those beauties by the pool. "Hello dear" is only a moments notice away. We sleep in late on Saturdays and we wake up too early on Mondays. We visit old cousins in states far away and get flat tires two blocks down the road. We listen to radio with memories of song and watch the newest movies with popcorn in hand. Popsicles taste better every year. The beaches are burning our feet and sand is getting in uncharted waters. We fish all day and drink beer all night. We get headaches, but never without notice. The salt is spirited and the sugar is divine. We sit on our porch with iced tea in hand and a fly swatter in the other hand. We throw rocks in the pond. We see the reflection of ourselves rippling away. Have you looked in the mirror today and asked yourself Why? or Why Me? or Why Not Me? Summer...
Sunday, June 19, 2011
I remember the day my daughter was born. It seems like only yesterday. To me, she was the most beautiful thing I ever saw in my life. It was creation according to God's plan. I was now a father! And now, it was my time to shine. I don't think I ever really thought about what I was doing. But 12 years later, my daughter has become quit the little lady. I tried my hardest every day to teach her the lessons of life. Each day was an event. We'd go to the store and I'd teach her about nutrition. I would take her to the playground and teach her about physical education. I would give her the biggest hugs and talk to her about education. We would play with the dog or the cat and talk about consumption. When she was 3, she'd help me with Chocolate Chip Cookies. We talked about direction. She would get out her tea set. Tea would be served with lots of homemade discretion. I'd pick her up when she was down. I remember the day she learned how to ride a bike. I wanted to let go. I did. It was hard. She was off. When I found out that I was now a diabetic, she held my hand. Her grades never slipped. The tables were set every night and she would talk of science, playgrounds and how bad the lunches were at school. I made her lunch every day and she never made a peep. We were always honest with each other. She learned how to glide through the day and meet new friends easily. She always has that smile on her face and that determination in her eyes. When we moved, it was time to go. When we move back, she never lost her true friends. She wondered a lot and always looked forward to dinner conversations. We travelled together and learned of exploration. We walked and we talked about everything. We ate homemade ice cream and talked about cats, the smell of grass and why boys are bad. She never questioned me. I'd take a nap and when I awoke, she told me she had finished her homework. We played Monopoly and we talked about money. She never complains about not enough. I held her when the thunder struck and covered her when it rained. She knows I like my coffee with cream. She leaves me to football games. I take her to school and she walks so proud. I pick her up and I tell her about my day. She is a strong individual. I can't tell you how wonderful she is. Happy Father's Day!