20 years might as well be 200

The other night my sister and I were rummaging through the squirrels nest that is my childhood home. Over the years my father has used it as head quarters for his tree removal business and temporary home to crack smoking vagrants and big bootied hoochie mamas. Among the beer cans, wiry brillo pad threads (used in crack pipes) and piles of dirty clothes are the crumbs of my childhood. A baseball trophy with a broken bat, little books on UFO's and "How To" Magic Tricks, forgotten photographs and yellowed opened mail. My grandmother, Mama Ruby's antique furniture is also there, as well as her sewing cabinet (still full of buttons and thimbles). My father holds onto all this stuff like he wants it but he treats it like garbage. Worse...he lets other people treat it like garbage. I ended up sneaking away with my father's old drag racing trophies, and a faded picture of my great grandmother. I may go back for the buttons and books, but the place feels like a mausoleum. It is hard for me to believe that I had my Christmas's in that trash strewn living room, did my homework, daydreamed, read my little books, listened to my music, and played with my brother in sister in that dark creepy basement apartment. It is hard to convince people that it use to be a nice place. I fantasize about fixing it up one day. I hate leaving my childhood in that state of disrepair, although it is probably appropriate.

Letter to my nephew upon his high school graduation

Dear Nephew,

I remember the day that you were born. Nanna and I drove down to Crawford Long Hospital on a beautiful summer day to see you. I had just gotten back from Oregon, where I had lived for a year in the hopes my girlfriend at the time would start a life with me. I will tell you about it one day if you are interested but long story short, it never happened. I was 24 years old. We met your Dad in the maternity ward, and a nurse held you up to the window so we could see you. Your Dad had tears in his eyes and was already calling you his little fishing buddy. I remember Nanna telling me that the moment you popped your little head out that “my brother grew into a man right before her eyes”.

I don't know if you remember your first house. It was a tiny little bungalow in Mountain Park near Roswell. I went to one of your birthday parties there. You could only have been 2 years old. I bought you a little inflatable car that you could hop on and pretend to drive. So I guess you can tell everyone that I bought you your first car...ha ha. You graduation tonight makes me remember how I felt when I graduated from Milton in 1984. I just felt lost. I was not a kid anymore, but I did not feel like I was an adult. I found myself in some weird no man's land between two worlds. Just in case you are wondering, most everyone always feels like a kid inside no matter what their age. Just because you are older doesn't mean that you know everything and just because you are young doesn't mean you don't know anything...you just don't have the experience to back it up. You have heard the saying, "there is no fool like an old fool", well that is damn true. I am 42 now and just starting to appreciate some of advice that was given to me twenty years ago. We all have this need to do things our own way, and the best advice in the world can't penetrate that desire. You may not know it but you have just embarked on a journey to discover yourself. You may find that the 30 year old you is not quite the same as the 20 year old you, and so on. It may take some time to settle into “yourself” and that is okay. All of your life experience will color you. It is a journey that only you can walk although everyone will try to show you the way. One day you will find comfort in knowing who you are and everything else will fall in place. So, although this may not mean anything to you now, here is some advice:

 This is YOUR time, do what makes YOU happy as long as it does not harm anyone else.

 If you fail, so what, try to find something positive about the experience and move forward.

 Don't confuse who you are with what you do to make money, the two are exclusive.

 The only dreams and expectations that you can fail to live up to are your own. Don't be too hard on yourself.

 Don't underestimate the kindness, understanding, and intelligence of the people who love you. They are living the human experience and are touched by the complexities of life just as you.

 Life does not owe you anything. Make your own luck and you will never be disappointed.


That is all...end of lecture. The rest I guess you will have to figure out yourself. That is the whole point of life and therein lays the fun. Remember that we love you and will always help you. Just don't be afraid to ask.

Happy Graduation

The Big Dirt Nap

Maybe it is because I turned 42 last week, or maybe I am regretting some of the choices I have made over the years, whatever the cause of my reflection maybe, my thoughts have recently turned toward the big dirt nap. I am scared and would rather skip the whole thing. Now this fear is coming from a man that ironically loves graveyards; big ole spooky ones with mausoleums and statues of angels. I was talking about my anxiety with a friend this morning, and being a programmer he gave me the logical answers: you can't stop it, you won't be conscience, why worry. I guess that he is right...technically. However, I want to believe that I continue to be. Being is all I know, or at least all I remember. As human beings we are all given such a short little time on this planet and that is if we manage to stay healthy among the millions of little and big things that try to kill us everyday. For some people, it is not in their DNA to live very long. Let's face it, some giant fat asses live to be old giant fat asses and some don't. Whenever you hear about someone living to be 120 years old, it is always someone that smoked and drank all of their lives. Now out of the limited time we are given, let's say 76 years give or take a decade, how many of those are quality years? Our bodies are steadily meant to fall apart; that is how they are designed. I have actually read that scientist have discovered the trigger that makes our bodies grow old. We are actually coded to deteriorate. So regardless of whether you do your cardio everyday, eats lots of broccoli, and keep your system flowing with lots of fiber, we all have a one way ticket to garden. Also, dying has nothing to do with good and evil. Good people die, bad people die, the two are not related. Everyday there are such sad stories in the daily news about all of the sick children and innocent people whose clock ran out. One minute you are there, the next, who knows where the fuck you are? The only thing that I sense from a logical point of view, and that is with the illogical point that life has a point, is what happens to all that information. The information that we have been collecting every second of our lives until now. I do not even think that nature could be that cruel. Maybe we all are a bunch of little nano-bots collecting info about this world through each of our unique perspectives. Maybe we have to die, so we can do a big data dump back to the mother ship. But is the mother ship still waiting, or did it high tail it's ass out of this universe a long time ago? Everyday, millions of people beg the mother ship for a little info, a little intervention...something to take away the pain. But all I hear is silence. As much as I want to hear, I am not even getting a little white noise, or the sound of putting a shell to your ear. Once again, I am scared. When it is my turn will it be so quick that the blackness will be instant, or will I hold onto the cliff for as long as I can then fall back into the ocean? I think some people let go of this world because they need relief from it, and others let go because they can not hold on any longer. What a mixed blessing to be alive. It seems that the only reason worth existing is the chance to meet other wonderful little information collecting bits of electricity and to share. Having to die seems like it is almost worth the price of living. Maybe that is what I need to decide.