dissolve, trinket and zest
It was his zest for living that drew him to Golden Gate Park that Sunday afternoon in 1986. Wannabe love-ins? It didn't matter if hed been born to late for the real thing, he wanted to see, to be a part of something ideal -- if only a re-creation.
A new high school graduate, the boy-come-man was beyond doing things for experimentation purposes. He was looking for the experience, a chance to, perhaps, find himself. At the very worst, he would trip hard and wind up on the Great Highway. At best, well, he could magically be transported back to the Summer of Love.
He parked his old Nova, a beater with nearly 200,000 miles and nearly as many stories. He placed the paper on his tongue and felt it slowly begin to dissolve. Now, he would only have to wait.
In the distance, he heard music. Not the Grateful Dead, whom he'd come to see, but some Afro-reggae sounds. It would be his pied-piper, drawing him in as the trip started.
Lined up along roads leading into the park were hippies, old and young, selling trinkets and other wares -- and ends to a mean to make it to the next show. From beads to hemp products to tie-dye shirts, the avenue was a throwback trading post.
He walked along, getting deeper in the park and deeper into his high. The more he walked, the better he felt. The better he felt, the more he felt like walking.
Until he came to a clearing -- the Great Meadow. The sounds magnified. So, too, did the sensations.
Unsure where this journey would lead, he was sure it would be memorable. If he could remember it.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Beauty is where you find it
One of the oddest, most intriguing things I saw on the beach in Arcata over the weekend wasn't the carcasses of two dead seals. They were the nastiest.
No, on Trindad Beach on Monday, the boys and I took off down the sand looking for adventure. They saw rock that looked like a big, fat lady. I found roses strewn about the beach. Which got me thinking -- why were they there? Were they remnants of a beach wedding, or a Viking funeral? I'll never know. But I will always remember their beauty. Here's one look
Three Word Wednesday
And the words are: agree, execute and providence
The order came from the commander, "Execute them, every last one of them."
The rebels had been holed up in the bunker for weeks, supplies dwindling, but not their resolve.
It was a noble cause they were fighting for -- in 200 years, freedom fighters such as they would be called insurgents by some -- and they believed it providence they break free from the tyrannical rule from abroad.
But there they were, locked in, clamped down upon and growing weary. But they would agree among themselves never to give up the fight, to die honorably.
And as the bugle blared out the order to charge, each checked his rifle, his ammo and his resolve to die fighting.
The order came from the commander, "Execute them, every last one of them."
The rebels had been holed up in the bunker for weeks, supplies dwindling, but not their resolve.
It was a noble cause they were fighting for -- in 200 years, freedom fighters such as they would be called insurgents by some -- and they believed it providence they break free from the tyrannical rule from abroad.
But there they were, locked in, clamped down upon and growing weary. But they would agree among themselves never to give up the fight, to die honorably.
And as the bugle blared out the order to charge, each checked his rifle, his ammo and his resolve to die fighting.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
It's not soooo bad?!
Well, 40 came and went. I didn't get struck by a mighty thunderbolt. I didn't have all 6 of my friends jump out and throw a surprise party for me (thank god).
But I did have a good time turning 40; better than I expected.
And maybe that's because I got two gifts I'd been seeking for years.
The first was from the ex. She texted me HAPPY BIRTHDAY! on Friday morning. My reply: I don't feel old ... and where's my fricking present.
Her gift to me: You are old ... and you present is not having me as your nagging wife for the next 40 years!!!
Sounds like a MasterCard commercial to me.
The other present was nearly two decades in the making and involved perhaps the first true lover of my life. Karen, KB for short, has a Sept. 10 birthday. She's now 40, too. I called her out of the blue on Wednesday to wish her a happy one. We got to talking. She's married with three kids about the same age as mine. She's in a loveless marriage. She feels stuck.
But that wasn't really vindication. That, actually, sucks.
No the present came when she said that her life's biggest regret was not coming back to me. Not that I'm anything more than a booby prize, but I think she always knew how much I loved her. He, apparently, doesn't. KB said she realized about a year into her marriage that she'd made a mistake, that she wanted to tell me, but by that time I was already dating the future-former-Mrs. Williams and that KB didn't want to mess things up.
KB even admitted to parking outside Raley's (where I worked graveyards) on the night before she sent her wedding invitations out trying to muster the courage to knock on the window, seek me out and figure out where it would lead.
Which leads to one of the most prophetic quotes of all time: "It's better to regret something you've done, than something you haven't done."
While there's too much time passed for me to even think about KB, the thoughts did drift into the "what ifs" this weekend on the beach. To think about how much different my life would have been is staggering.
But I'm not complaining. I'm happy where I am -- something I don't think I realized before 40. Yes, there is work to do, things to tend to, flaws to fix. But, by and large, life is good.
The final birthday present was the best: a "surprise" party from my boys in our Arcata hotel room. Instead of my six friends, it was thrown by my three favorite people.
Who could ask for more?
But I did have a good time turning 40; better than I expected.
And maybe that's because I got two gifts I'd been seeking for years.
The first was from the ex. She texted me HAPPY BIRTHDAY! on Friday morning. My reply: I don't feel old ... and where's my fricking present.
Her gift to me: You are old ... and you present is not having me as your nagging wife for the next 40 years!!!
Sounds like a MasterCard commercial to me.
The other present was nearly two decades in the making and involved perhaps the first true lover of my life. Karen, KB for short, has a Sept. 10 birthday. She's now 40, too. I called her out of the blue on Wednesday to wish her a happy one. We got to talking. She's married with three kids about the same age as mine. She's in a loveless marriage. She feels stuck.
But that wasn't really vindication. That, actually, sucks.
No the present came when she said that her life's biggest regret was not coming back to me. Not that I'm anything more than a booby prize, but I think she always knew how much I loved her. He, apparently, doesn't. KB said she realized about a year into her marriage that she'd made a mistake, that she wanted to tell me, but by that time I was already dating the future-former-Mrs. Williams and that KB didn't want to mess things up.
KB even admitted to parking outside Raley's (where I worked graveyards) on the night before she sent her wedding invitations out trying to muster the courage to knock on the window, seek me out and figure out where it would lead.
Which leads to one of the most prophetic quotes of all time: "It's better to regret something you've done, than something you haven't done."
While there's too much time passed for me to even think about KB, the thoughts did drift into the "what ifs" this weekend on the beach. To think about how much different my life would have been is staggering.
But I'm not complaining. I'm happy where I am -- something I don't think I realized before 40. Yes, there is work to do, things to tend to, flaws to fix. But, by and large, life is good.
The final birthday present was the best: a "surprise" party from my boys in our Arcata hotel room. Instead of my six friends, it was thrown by my three favorite people.
Who could ask for more?
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Needled
On top of the things I don't ever want to do again: Get a steroid/cortisone injection in my foot.
I'm not the biggest puss in the world, but fuck that hurt. Almost worse than the plantar facistis plaguing me for the past three months.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
40 and Un-fabulous
Well, I guarantee this will be a birthday I never forget.
Unfortunately for all the wrong reasons.
My life feels like a laundry list of "Everything bad, can and will happen:"
Unfortunately for all the wrong reasons.
My life feels like a laundry list of "Everything bad, can and will happen:"
- Girlfriend troubles
- Work issues
- The knowledge that, other than your mom and your kids, no one's going to make a fuss on your landmark birthday
- Acutally turning 40 and realizing there's so much more you could have done with your life
And that's the killer. Shoulda, coulda, Eastwooda.
Yes, it's not too late for me to really start living, but all I want this week is for it to be over, for the birthday to be over. On top of everything, it's like an albatross around my neck. Just let me turn 40, be done with it and head to the ocean, the one place I truly find peace and serenity.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)