Monday, December 10, 2007
Where could I be going? Why was I there? How could I be doing this to myself?
Friday, November 23, 2007
Swoop, swoop. Rock, rock.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Anyways, It's a time to be thankful, to reflect on how little grace is earned and how much given.
Life and family and friends... all that cliche stuff is forever real and. Add to those salvation, redemption, the ability to walk into tomorrow with some sort of confidence that all is right with this twisted and crazy world in spite of our human failings and foolishnesses. Throw in joy and happiness and the ability to make new relationships and, well, there's a lot to be grateful for.
Last week my family and I trekked to Gilbert, AZ, current home to Kirstie and Marc and young prophet Elijah. We've wanted to meet them since their recent relocation from the Republic of Texas. Add to the mix the fact that the Pondering Pig and the lovely Patrushka would be there and we had no choice but to make the journey.
It's funny how many years of age, thousands of miles of distance, and millions of seconds of experience can separate people and yet...
...and yet it's somehow like meeting yourself. I don't mean literally, maybe more like a reflection. It's meeting someone you can comfortably refer to as brother or sister. You know the same history and it affected you in the same sort of ways. When you can share recollections of good, bad, heartbreaking times and know them as similar experiences is a wonderful thing and that's what happened to us all the other day.
I've given up long ago the belief in fate or chance. It's more like a God ordained moment. Sometimes we just fail to recognize where those moments come from because we become so self absorbed we miss what is going on around and in spite of us. Me and the Pig and our families were destined to someday meet. Not just because of those ways we are the same but because of the ways we are different as well. We had fun and laughed a lot, those belly laughs that are for real and not just polite twitter between people thrown together for a few moments of uncomfortable relating. Nope, we sat in the kitchen for hours of story telling, swam in the pool, the kids played "Wii".
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Peter, well known to the crowd, haunts the club tonight too. He cuts quite the figure in this place used to glitz. He is a straight shooter. At least he appears that way. He wears the years like the 3-piece Armani and the tri-tone shoes he normally sports. He dresses the part. He never looks out of place. His style is impeccable. He doesn't seek attention. Rather, attention seeks him. Tonight, though, is different. He sits near the kitchen with Ginsburg, reading and comfortably spooning Borscht. Tonight the huddled masses seem to not notice him
"Hey, Allen" he whispers. "Have you ever heard of this Bukowski guy? He sounds kinda seedy."
"No future," says Allen, "Just drunken dejection and rejection. A hollow canoli with no cheese"
"But what about McClure?"
"If you know Gaelic, you're fine. Me? I still struggle with Yiddish. Go figure."
"I know I've seen that face somewhere," The Pig ponders to himself. "Maybe down in Mexico or, perhaps, a picture up on somebody's shelf." Patrushka had left to powder her nose with Claudette, who had snuck in during Calloway's last number. "Why does he look familiar?" he ponders.
But then the crowd began to stamp their feet and the house lights dimmed. In the darkness of the room, the weird and glorious future began to settle into the Pig's mind.
"Maybe I'm a story teller," he ruminates. "Maybe I'm not just another parking bumper," he laughs surreptituously. "I see the northwest passage, mountains and snow. I see Sacajewea. I see a beat cowboy named Tutman struggling to be heard."
"Hey! What did you put in my tea?"
Is there more? There oughta be.
The phone rings at 828 Milwaukee Street. It's a friendly call, but the Devil none the less.
"Wassup?" asks Leo, predating the phrase by a good generation at least.
"Have you considered the deal yet?" Scratch asks with a chuckle.
"Um, yeah. Can't do it."
"I figgered. You don't seem the type anyways. Get a better offer?"
"Nope. Just thought my eternal soul might come in handy one day. Besides, I'm like my dad. I never get rid of nuttin'.
"Ok, kid. Gotcha. Just don't forget that you know where I am when you need me."
'Need him?' Leo thinks to himself. 'Last thing I need is him'
Is there more? Of course... just not yet!