Would you want to be 14 again? I recently answered no to that question. As hard as life has been at times, it's only gotten better. I couldn't relate. Being a teenager was hard.
Or was it?
When I was 14 I got my first job. A gas station and car wash. It was where I met my best friend. He's one of the few I have stayed in touch with. He's more family.
I lived in Montana which meant that I was able to drive. Sort of. I lived out in the boonies and was allowed to to drive when I had to get to school or work. It was still really cool. Town kids had to wait another year.
The teachers went on strike that year. I missed the last quarter of the school year and didn't have to make it up.
When I was 14 I was contacted by a professional scout for the Cincinnati Reds. They flew me to several different cities to catch for major league pitchers. Very cool. I was going to the show baby!
When I was 14 I fell in love. She called me on the phone and asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance. (The girls asked the boys) She had heard that some one else was going to ask me so she called. I said yes. She taught me things about being in love that I never forgot.
All of the sudden I remembered things that had long been forgotten and I understood.
With so much out in the world to see and do I never dreamed of wanting to go back. I look forward and follow my heart. It was when I was 14 that I learned how to follow my heart. 14 was a pretty good year.
Remember...
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
Christina Rossetti
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you planned:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.
Christina Rossetti
I Wish I Could Remember...
I wish I could remember that first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or Winter for all I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May.
If only I could recollect it, such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;
It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand - Did one but know!
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or Winter for all I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May.
If only I could recollect it, such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;
It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand - Did one but know!
Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
Ninja Skills...
Mr. Man and I were running around the house and yard playing. It is our favorite activity after all.
Through the living room, down the hall, out the garage door across the yard and into the woods. Then Mr. Man jumps up on a stump and says, "Hey dad, watch this move." He jumps in the air kicking his feet to one side while he punches the wind. "How do like my ninja skills? You have to practice your skills or the bad guys will get ya. Let me see your skills dad."
Believe it or not I have never let Mr. Man see Napoleon Dynamite.
I busted a few ninja moves that we both laughed at and agreed that I was in danger of the bad guys. My skills need some work.
The worst part of this is that I can't stop thinking about my skills. No, not my ninja skills.
I really have none. In my 40 or so years of earthly existence, 10 of them have been devoted to baseball. Although over lapping another 22 years have been devoted to art. Making art, studying art, selling art. 30 years of living in a fantasy world.
Precious and I have been talking about what to do with our lives, which is what brought all of this on. When we get where we're going, what do we do? Obviously I want to continue my journey in the world of fine art but what if for some reason I couldn't? What would I do?
I have pondered and puzzed til my ponderer hurt and my puzzler was sore. Then it dawned on me.
I've got no skills. I'm not really qualified to do anything. I have spent my entire life not really doing anything. I talk to people, I paint, I talk about painting and other people that paint. I can't sing, I can't dance and I'm too fat to fly.
I wonder if it's too late for me to become a pro bowler?
Calling Dr. Bob, I think I'm going to have an anxiety attack.
Through the living room, down the hall, out the garage door across the yard and into the woods. Then Mr. Man jumps up on a stump and says, "Hey dad, watch this move." He jumps in the air kicking his feet to one side while he punches the wind. "How do like my ninja skills? You have to practice your skills or the bad guys will get ya. Let me see your skills dad."
Believe it or not I have never let Mr. Man see Napoleon Dynamite.
I busted a few ninja moves that we both laughed at and agreed that I was in danger of the bad guys. My skills need some work.
The worst part of this is that I can't stop thinking about my skills. No, not my ninja skills.
I really have none. In my 40 or so years of earthly existence, 10 of them have been devoted to baseball. Although over lapping another 22 years have been devoted to art. Making art, studying art, selling art. 30 years of living in a fantasy world.
Precious and I have been talking about what to do with our lives, which is what brought all of this on. When we get where we're going, what do we do? Obviously I want to continue my journey in the world of fine art but what if for some reason I couldn't? What would I do?
I have pondered and puzzed til my ponderer hurt and my puzzler was sore. Then it dawned on me.
I've got no skills. I'm not really qualified to do anything. I have spent my entire life not really doing anything. I talk to people, I paint, I talk about painting and other people that paint. I can't sing, I can't dance and I'm too fat to fly.
I wonder if it's too late for me to become a pro bowler?
Calling Dr. Bob, I think I'm going to have an anxiety attack.
Up Against The Wall...
This is where I've been the last few, or 18 months. Against the wall. Between the rock and a hard place. Exposed to the world. This and the next few Chadette, Nudettes, all have brick walls behind them. I guess they're metaphorical.
It's my own fault. At least I blame myself. I didn't do enough from the get go. I should have asked more questions. I shouldn't have been so trusting.
Confused? Me too.
The older I get the more I question myself and my abilities. Is that normal?
I remember applying for a job when I was 25. I was invincible. I knew everything. I could do anything.
I got the job. A management position. I had access to my personal file. The man that interviewed me made a note that I was arrogantly confident, to the point of being cocky. I'll never forget that. He was right. I was arrogant and cocky and I wasn't afraid to let you know.
Fifteen years later I've learned a few things, and until this year I still had no doubt that I could do anything I set my mind to doing. I'm just much more quiet about it.
I have never failed the way I have this time. I'm not dealing it with well. I don't sleep. I don't eat right. I drink too much. I know in my heart that I should most likely give in and move on. My head is too stubborn and doesn't want to admit that I was so wrong.
No matter how many times I go over things. Coming up with plan after plan to fix it all. None seem to work. The hole gets deeper and deeper. If I don't stop digging, soon I won't be able to see out anymore.
It's my own fault. At least I blame myself. I didn't do enough from the get go. I should have asked more questions. I shouldn't have been so trusting.
Confused? Me too.
The older I get the more I question myself and my abilities. Is that normal?
I remember applying for a job when I was 25. I was invincible. I knew everything. I could do anything.
I got the job. A management position. I had access to my personal file. The man that interviewed me made a note that I was arrogantly confident, to the point of being cocky. I'll never forget that. He was right. I was arrogant and cocky and I wasn't afraid to let you know.
Fifteen years later I've learned a few things, and until this year I still had no doubt that I could do anything I set my mind to doing. I'm just much more quiet about it.
I have never failed the way I have this time. I'm not dealing it with well. I don't sleep. I don't eat right. I drink too much. I know in my heart that I should most likely give in and move on. My head is too stubborn and doesn't want to admit that I was so wrong.
No matter how many times I go over things. Coming up with plan after plan to fix it all. None seem to work. The hole gets deeper and deeper. If I don't stop digging, soon I won't be able to see out anymore.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
-
This is Duke. He is a Neapolitan Mastiff. He's three and half years old, well behaved. Ok, it's not actually a real puppy, well he ... -
This is where I've been the last few, or 18 months. Against the wall. Between the rock and a hard place. Exposed to the world. This and ...