Between Blog Posts: Part 3

Over the past month I have been able to find a few second and even a few minutes here and there that have allowed me to let my mind meander about and pull together different images and glimpses into the lives of fictional characters. Even while trying to catch up on the blog, there were still a few much needed moments when I needed to take a momentarily creative leave from reality. It is still unclear as to what will be done with all of these little pieces and whether they tie together somehow or if they are completely separate stories. So, following my notes from New Jersey Transit uncovered in the beginning of August, part 1 recorded in the middle of the month, and part 2 published a couple of weeks ago, I bring you another installment in this sporadic series.

6AM

The neighborhood kids called him Mr. Brown but he had many different monikers throughout his life. Whenever they would call his name in the morning he would turn his head and give him them a slight smile. No one said anything else to him. They let him be and simply watched in silence as he went about his morning routine.

He peered out the window each morning at 6am looking up at the sky. When the sun shone on the horizon he would put on his slippers, a coat when the weather turned bitter, and opened the front door with a slow and deliberate precision that baffled those watching.

His purposeful steps didn’t take him far. They carried him to the corner of his walkway and into a gravel bed surrounding his flag pole. Her he would take the flag tucked under his arm, unfold it, and raise the stars and stripes in a way that is familiar to few but respected by all who witness the ceremony.

Every morning he would pause at half-mast with a kind sadness in his eyes that revealed much more about his routine. In a moment of stillness he seemed to mutter almost apologetically before hoisting the flag to the top of the pole. Securing the rope with a figure eight and solitary knot, he would then turn and return to the front door stiffly closing it behind him as if trying to keep out the memories.

When the sky prepares to succumb to the night everyone watches as he emerges from behind his seclusion almost with a sense of relief that the evening will soon descend and another day will end in silence. He returns the flag to the earth folding into a precise triangle, tucked it under his arm, and carried it with reverence back into his home.

As the amber deepens into red and before the purple hue of dusk, a small glimmer of yellow can be seen waiving lightly from the trunk of his oak tree seemingly giving farewell. The same bitter parting he was offered when his son was deployed.

And now the tattered ribbon tethers the memories of a neighborhood as they all remember the jovial laugh that would fill the small street every time Mr. Brown came home from work. A laugh that only lives in distance echoes. But now there is only night. Now there is only silence. For one more day.

Between Blog Posts: Part 2

Earlier in the month I shared some story notes that I uncovered during a bout of digital archaeology and last week I posted another piece that I jotted down between a couple of blog posts and projects. Well, it happened again. While doing some work and personal research this past week, a small light began flickering in my mind like a projector and played a small scene for me. All that was shone is what is recorded below. This, like the other ideas recorded on this blog, might be interesting to pursue when I have a little more time to commit to this type of writing. But, for now, here is what was played for me…

5AM

Jim was never a morning person and never pretended to be one unless he was applying for a job. This was the conflict that stirred in his mind as the alarm echoed off the empty apartment walls.

He kicked the soiled sheets to the other side of the bed and placed his hand in the cold empty hollow in the mattress next to him. It almost didn’t feel like it was worth it to try and get up but he could stand the thought of lying there alone.

As he staggered to his feet the faux floor whined between his toes. In the bathroom he plunged his worn face in the stagnant sink filled with the same water that had been lingering for days.

The spotted mirror told him all he needed to know reflecting his shadow riddled eyes buried behind his beard.

He rustled through his clothes looking for something that could pass as presentable, something that may have appeared on a store shelf in the last twenty years.

Cleaned and dressed to the standard that had haunted him for the past three years, he opened his bedroom door and walked down the short moonlit hallway to the stack of disposable bowls awaiting him in the kitchen. Like the hundreds of days before, he opened the only stocked cabinet, pulled out a box, and watched the sweet processed puffs as they piled into the paper vessel.

Some people take great care with their diet, Jim was not one of those people.

By the time the sun had begun to inch over the horizon, he was already walking deliberately down the stairs, step by step, counting each one as if the total would be different than all the other days.

The orange and red of the sky surprised him and a smile nearly curled the corners of his mouth when it was quickly slapped from his face by the noise of the city. His simple routine had taken him nearly two hours and now the remaining minutes of the early morning were few and precious.

While little had changed that morning maybe the day would be different. Maybe this would be the day when the burdens of the past would be lifted. Maybe the events of the day would allow him to forget. Maybe this job would be different than the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that, and the one before that…

Between Blog Posts: Part 1

Recently, while going from one topic to the next whether that be at work or while writing about different topics for the blog I find my mind wandering a little bit into the other side of my brain. It’s almost as if it fell off that fine line that I am constantly walking between the two hemispheres and all of the sudden the ideas for stories begin flowing through my fingers. They are only glimpses but, like the rough ideas that I shared before which I uncovered in my computer, I wanted to share them here. After all, you never know what I might do with them…

4AM

Ben had been up all night with the only light shining on the dark country road being the one piercing through his kitchen window. The highway asphalt in the distance had been quite for hours and the autumnal wind carried with it the scent of the approaching season. His work was done, for now, but his labor was just beginning.

The hinges screamed as he pulled the front door toward him. A sound that had become all too familiar in recent weeks. But in that moment, in the darkness of morning, he was the only one who could hear the house shrieking.

His legs were heavy from the rigor of the night and while a fog filled his eyes his mind continued to meander through memories. It took an unexpected effort to traverse the walkway but he endured the haunting thoughts and failing limbs finally slumping over on the rusted trunk of his car. 

He swung open his creaking door and collapsed into the tattered driver’s seat. Turning the key he hoped that the engine would start just one more time. He had a lot of things to do that day but his only desire was to stay home. As the exhaust plumed in the rear view mirror he swallowed the last remanence of cold coffee, rubbed his eyes with his red hands, and slowly skidded down the leaf strewn driveway.

The winding road coddled his eyes while the pings of loose pavement kept his lids from closing. It wasn’t long before he could see the lights from the gas station emerge from the crest of the hill, people walking back to their cars with steaming cups, and the traffic light blinking yellow and red like a beacon on a desolate shore.

As he turned the corner he could hear a rumble cascading across the road. By the time he turned his head the truck had already breached the passenger door. His body was thrown across the intersection until finally resting face down in front of the weathered array of lingering campaign signs.

When the police arrived, they found nothing to identify him, a car which had disintegrated into an unrecognizable heap of scrap, and a heart that had long since stopped pumping. The only thing that they knew about him is what witnesses heard him gargle from between the blades of grass…    

“It wasn’t me. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t me.”

TMI Tuesday: Hi Snow!

One of the fun things about the recent blizzard was that my wife and I were looking forward to introducing our son to some real snow not just the light dusting that we got a couple of weeks ago. Thankfully, as the frozen season descended upon us, our aunt sent our son a snow suit that will keep him warm and my wife picked up some tiny boots last week. We were all ready to go.

As we brought our son down from his bedroom on Saturday morning we made sure to walk over to the window and show him the white blanket across the lawn. He didn’t seem too impressed but was rather intrigued as to how different the yard looked. Of course, he did just wake up and we had yet to feed him so nothing is really exciting at that point. However, as he ate his breakfast he kept looking out the window as the sheets of powdered ice as they blew by the window.

It was a bit too cold to bring him out in the middle of the storm but the following day was different. The snow had stopped the night before and the sun was already starting to melt the tops of the piles. As we brought him down the morning after the storm he once again looked out the window, gave a little smile, and waved hi to the snow. It was the perfect weather and opportunity to introduce him to this winter tradition so we bundled him up and headed out onto the cleared asphalt.

He had a big smile on his face as we carried him around and seemed quite curious when we sat him down atop the two feet lining the driveway. He was happy and even giggling for a few seconds before beginning to squirm onto his belly and his back. While he was entertained a little when daddy helped him make a snow angel, he was over it. Turns out that he likes the way snow looks but would prefer to look at it from the warm side of the glass. Can’t say I blame him.

Of course, I am certain this will change over time as sledding enters the picture and, overall, he becomes more active. A time that my wife and I are definitely looking forward to… my wife can take care of the skiing, I’ll take care of the sliding on the rear. But, for now, even though the snow is fun and some would say magical for most kids, our son would much rather wave at the white stuff from the other side of the window. Bye Snow!

First Trip To Lancaster County

We were finally able to take advantage of not having to be anywhere today. It had been some time since our son had an opportunity to play with his cousins, nearly a month in fact, so earlier in the week we coordinated with my sister to bring our son over to her house for the first time. It actually wasn’t a bad ride from our place into the heart of Lancaster County and our son was able to sleep for a few minutes right before our arrival. We got there around noon and almost immediately our little boy was looking around at this new place wondering where the heck we were.

Soon after we pulled in and as I was giving my brother-in-law a quick tour of the new car, my sister pulled into the driveway and started unpacking the groceries. It didn’t take long for my niece to climb out of the passenger seat and start doting over her baby cousin. It is great to watch the connection that the two of them have. My niece can’t seem to get enough of him and our son just keeps smiling whenever they are playing.

Spending the day with family was good for all of us. It got our son out of the house (he prefers being out and about as opposed to relaxing at home), it got us out of the house, and it afforded us an opportunity to catch up with family. We all have a lot going on right now and sometimes phone calls and text messages can only cover so much. It was also good because my wife and I could go do our separate things while we were there. She was able to sit and talk while my sister and niece watched our son, and I was able to help with putting up a gate outside.

While we did a few things separately we also came together to watch the kids on the swing, play some tetherball, and relaxing in the warm summer sunset. By the time we sat down for dinner we were amazed at how fast the day had drifted by. We were all getting a little tired and so we got back on the road almost eight hours after we arrived. It wasn’t long before our son was sleeping and we were back at the house putting him in bed. Of course, one we put him upstairs it hit us just how much work we still have to do at the house. Another project for another day.

Ugly Sweater Breakfast

They have to specify Christmas or Bill Cosby would win every year!

Every once in a while everyone at the office we all go out and just enjoy ourselves away from work and the deadlines streaming through our email. Sometimes it is as simple as having lunch together in the conference room (although there is usually at least one computer out and everyone is checking their phones for emails and calls). Yesterday was completely different as we all got on the road a little early and met for breakfast at Cracker Barrel dressed in our finest ugly sweater.

The commute wasn’t bad even in the midst of the morning rush hour and I was able to get there just in time having given myself a bit of a buffer for the drive. Others we not so lucky as an accident and general congestion kept them from joining us and put them two cups of coffee behind. However, the important thing is that we all made it to the meal and filled the table with good, non-work, conversation and compliments on the classy designs adorning each of us.

We did the same thing earlier in the year minus the sweaters and with a slightly different crowd around the table. While one person has left, three great coworkers now joined us for the morning relaxation. It was a great time but, as is the case with the piles leaving this country kitchen, we were all left a little sluggish as we drove down the road and to the office.

The light morning was soon followed by round after round of meetings where we continued the transition process set in motion by the departure of one of my coworkers. It is a bit of an odd situation that I find myself in as she is the only one that started working at the office before me having assumed her role a day before I began coming to work. While I am no stranger to having outlasted people at certain jobs, it is weird to be the one with the longest tenure (albeit only by a few days).

Honestly, given all the perks and the family like environment in which I work, it is hard to think about leaving this company. I understood the need for change at previous employers but this is a completely different environment. It is safe to say that I am here for the long haul. I was hear during the chaos of the first few months and I look forward to being here as the company grows even though the faces around the breakfast table may change.

Learning How To Get Back Up

I was never a particularly tough child. I remember complaining and crying when I got hurt and not wanting to push through minor injuries when participating in sports or playing with friends. While not as bad as some that I can remember, I was by no means a tough child. I learned how and enjoyed pushing through injuries later in my youth but it took some time and a bit of determination to overcome the weaknesses I had when I was smaller (I can’t say that I was ever actually ‘small’).

Over the years however, I have built up a tolerance for pain that is a bit baffling to some and considered stupid by others. From broken bones and dislocated joints to kidney stones and fighting Fibromyalgia, I have experienced all kinds of pain and only stopped when it was preventing me from living. I’ve set bones, popped joints back into place, put duct tape over large cuts, and simply walked things off when they really started to hurt. Up to that point I would keep pushing and pushing until finally I had no other choice than to give in and let myself heal. Of course, for the truly minor things like bad ankle sprains, dislocations, cold/flu, and migraines it was better to keep going and work my way through them.

This is the kind of thing that I want to instill in my son. Not to the extent that I have taken it but I don’t want him to let the small things stop him. Bumps and bruises are a part of living life especially when you are young and I want our son to enjoy every moment of growing up while he can. With that said, we have to do our part to let him fall and let him scrape his knees so that he can learn that it really isn’t that bad. Of course, we will always be there when he needs us but some things he is going to have to learn just by doing and experiencing.

All that we can really do is guide him and try to set him up for the long life ahead of him. Bumps (and bruises) are just minor things that happen along the way but you can just stop everything that you are doing when they happen. Life is still going on around you and if you take a break, there are potential memories that you will be missing. I guess you could say that I want to make sure that we instill in our son adversity as it has served us both incredibly well in our own lives. Hopefully we can get that message through to him early on… the same lesson that my parents tried teaching me which didn’t take hold until much later in my life.

Having Fun

Today is a bit of an odd blogging day for me. I have been having trouble all day trying to figure out what to write about while at the same time I have so many things I would like to rant about (mostly dealing with the complete BS deal that the US and other countries has struck with Iran). There has also been a very simple fact floating around in my head in that this is the tipping point for my year of blogging. This marks my 183 post and, therefore, I have managed to post every day for just over half a year so far.

Not quite sure how I feel about that as I think it is more of a serious cause for concern more than it is an accomplishment because to post every day, regardless of topic, is a little nutty. But it is also something that has given me a daily constant. No matter what is going on that particular day I always have those 30-60 minutes to myself to put a quick post together. Of course, sometimes they take a bit longer, usually with the genealogy and photography related posts but for the most part I try and not overthink things and let myself just write.

That may be the most important part of this whole process. It is an exercise in being. For years I have spent hours if not days writing, rewriting, and polishing single lines making sure that every word had its place and purpose. While that undoubtedly is an important process and skill to have, you can quickly lose site of the actual writing process and the sense of freedom that putting words on a page (or in this case a screen) can bring to you. It is a cathartic process that most keep behind closed doors, buried in the pages of a journal, or hidden away in a file buried beneath the desktop.

That is how I used to treat my writing. Obviously, that is no longer the case. My process and my thoughts are in the posts on this blog out in the open for all to read. Whether you like it or not, here it is and here are the topics that I think about and want to write about. Whether its hobby or passion or routine I am not really sure at this point but I can say definitively that writing is a part of who I am and has been for most of my life at this point.  

But this was never intended to be a one way discussion. I think I enjoy listening to people’s comments about some of my posts than I do writing them. Whether someone agrees with me or not I get a kick out of starting that dialog and maybe making that person consider a topic, subject, or perspective that they may have otherwise overlooked. So, I guess this entire blogging process, from beginning to ‘end’, is one of the ways that I have fun. I have no idea what that makes me but I really don’t care because it is another way that I am able to enjoy my limited abilities and life in general.



But that is to be expected after an evening
filled with Guinness and Pepto-Bismol.

Just A Couple Minutes

Have you ever had one of those days when you are two minutes behind everything. Literally, two minutes behind schedule all day. That is the kind of day that I had today. Don’t misunderstand me, it was an excellent day. But no matter what I did I couldn’t make up those two minutes that escaped my grasp at 7:47 this morning. And that is especially bad when you day is full of meetings as mine was today.

Things could have been worse and I did make it to all my meetings within a reasonable margin. Two minutes is like the five second rule of scheduling. You can quickly drop the ball and fall a little behind but at some point you are going to pass the point of no return and you will get a look of disgust if you try and act like it’s no big deal.

At the end of the day I could have easily gotten back on schedule and home for the night but that is the most difficult time to stay on track and the reason is simple. We have way too much fun at the office. Nothing crazy we just all get along and share a similar sense of humor. Plus many of us, including me, can go off on a tangent like few others can. Get more than one of us in a room and you better buckle up. I’m like Robin Williams but not nearly as funny, with a little more sanity, and frequently boring.

Honestly, if you think I ramble on and on in writing you should meet me in person. I can usually keep myself in check (especially when I’m tired and/or have a really back headache) but when I get going it is really hard to stop me. Just ask some of the people I’ve gotten to know over the years. I am sure they will give and exhausted sounding sigh and confirm.

But I managed to get out of the office close to schedule today… only two minutes behind. And now I am sitting on the computer trying to make up for lost time by finishing up two Phillies blogs while keeping two eyes open and finishing my second beer in an office that is hotter than the second ring of hell. Don’t the old people in the building realize that cold preserves longer than heat. Just look at Ted Williams. Have you ever gotten an ice splinter? Those things hurt more than they should for something that size.

Plagued By The Blank Screen

As you may have noticed, lately I have been posting late at night in an attempt to keep the daily blog streak going. This is not ideal but they are getting up and that is the real task at hand for me because the simple purpose of this blog has always been to just keep writing.

The common sense rational is that if you want to be a writer, keep writing. Sometimes you will produce something to be incredibly proud of while other times you will fall flat. No one gets it right one hundred percent of the time and I am choosing to do so publicly.

Another hazard that every writer faces at some point in time is “writer’s block”. This has been my burden as of late and has caused the delays in putting up posts at a more ideal time early in the morning. But I am determined to break through the wall and return to the level of productivity that I am more accustomed.

Many of you know that this situation is one that has many causes including illness, lack of sleep, mental preoccupation, laziness, and limited time. While any of these factors can be overcome they all cause a slowing or, sometimes, freezing of the writing process. Unfortunately, I have been juggling all of the above in my attempt to keep this blog going.

How I have been able to do this I honestly don’t have an answer that would explain it completely. All I have done is write. I keep writing and just try to form quasi lucent thoughts that hopefully at least a few people will be able to follow. I have had to make it a selfish process where I am writing to think things through for myself. This is why there may be one topic being addressed in the beginning of the post and something completely different being discussed by the end.  

Having a topic at hand is another way to combat the drudges of disassembling a creative roadblock. When I started this blog I want to take things day by day and have spontaneous posts about things that have happened, strange occurrences, random thoughts, etc. That lasted about three days before I started working on a list of ideas and events on my calendar. Having that list has given me direction on a daily basis and has saved me from starting with a completely blank screen. Sometimes all it takes is a quick idea at the top of the page to get things going. It still required a lot of work but it is definitely easier getting to point B when you know where to locate point A.

Overall, I guess it just proves that creative stubbornness can sometimes be a good thing. Taking the approach of getting your thoughts down no matter what is essential in staving off what can lead to a severing of the connection between your brain and the page. This is when writing becomes work but it is what needs to be done if you want to return to creative state that is free flowing and fun. Sometimes you have to work at something before it becomes enjoyable (again).

Coffee Is My Friend

This is the 50^th blog that I have posted since beginning this stream of rambling in May. It’s the golden anniversary. Of course the only thing golden on this blog is when I piss people off.

So far, I have already been asked numerous times about how I am able to post every day and the answer is very simple… I am full of crap and I’m willing to share it with everyone what cares to have a sniff. This isn’t a government health care bill, this blog is very simple. I’m just recording what rattles around in my head before it has a chance to escape.

This blog is my everyday life, the boring and the interesting (at least to me), the random thoughts, the observations of things happening around me. Fueled by coffee (lots and lots of coffee) and a time card, I have been writing posts in the middle of the night while all sane people are asleep. Sometimes I get a random thought or two and it makes its way to my fingers while other times I can look at a blank page off and on for hours.

All it takes is some determination and a commitment to write no matter how many or how few read a post. For me, if I try to write for a specific audience nothing happens but if I just write and let life dictate the prose I don’t have a problem. As I like to say, it’s fine to have your head in your rear as long as it’s out of the way of your writing. Basically, apply the same rules that a politician applies when speaking to a large crowd.

But, overall, have fun. Entertain yourself and everything else will fall into place. Bring some balance to your day by blogging.