Father’s Day
To my father out west, the one whose genome I carry, happy father’s day. Believe it or not, I thought about you today.
The trip up north was exciting enough. One slight hiccup; the W. don’t always see eye to eye on where to spend our time. Since it’s hard for me to know what is going to happen, I don’t plan very well. But in the end, she was right. Being responsible, being where you say you’re going to be, is more important than living selfishly in the moment without regard to others. Thinking about this on the 4 hour drive home, grumpy and silent, it occurred to me how being married can make a person live longer.
My oldest nephew’s graduation party was Saturday. The party was at his mother’s house in Traverse City. There were a lot of people there, a fair number of kids, his mother’s ex-boyfriends, her current boyfriend, my mother, his sister, his half-brothers…and a bunch of people I don’t know. I was looking through the tons of pictures I took and they aren’t too bad.
The picture for this post is of me driving an excavator that was at my brother’s house. It had been used to remove his garage and the concrete slab it had been built on. My brother let me drive it for about an hour. I was moving a pile of dirt that he had made a year ago. He was driving a skid loader and I was moving the dirt for him to push around. I absolutely love hydraulic equipment and had a total blast running that machine.
We stayed with the in-laws in Kalkaska. They have a room in their basement where we usually sleep. The queen bed in there is actually one I bought about 14 years ago when I was working at a furniture store before going to college. That bed has some history as I’m sure you can imagine. Or maybe you can’t…anyway…
We went to breakfast at a local breakfast and burger joint with the in-laws, another nephew, a half-sister in-law and her husband. I enjoy spending time with W.’s father. He is doing okay after having prostate surgery a few weeks ago. Apparently he is still working on controlling those “muscles” and this is a bit troubling for him from time to time. I suppose I shouldn’t be blogging about that. He’s cool though and I doubt he’d be too bothered by it.
It was a long and emotionally draining weekend. W. and I got home mid afternoon, did some cleaning and light chores then watched the end of the Tiger’s game. After that we watched a movie and now I bet she is sleeping. I’m about to hit the sack myself.
I wanted to get this post in before the end of the day. It’s father’s day after all. This goes out to my brother, my father, my father-in-law, my other father, and all the father’s in the world. Here’s to you. Word to your mothers.
On the road
After I finish writing this post I’ll be getting my shix together for a trip north. My oldest nephew is having his graduation party and I want to be there. It’ll be good to see our families and hang out with my brother. I suspect there’ll be some beer drinking while we stare at the space where his garage used to be.
I’m sitting here searching for something meaningful to write but I’m coming up with nothing. A curious cat is milling about on my desk, rubbing on things. I hear W. upstairs, getting ready for our trip. The dryer is running. A cup of coffee, nearly gone and not that warm anymore, sits in front of me in my super hero mug. The sun is starting to come through the basement window of my cave/office.
W. and I both had crazy dreams last night. In one of mine I was visiting my father. We were driving somewhere. I was in the front talking to him and he was trying to explain something to me. I remember calling him out about it and being upset. Barely remember any of the details…as dreams tend to disburse like a cloud upon waking. Must have been from watching Johnny Depp in Charlie and Chocolate Factory last night. At the end of the movie Charlie encourages Willie Wonka to visit his father. The father doesn’t realize right away that it’s his son. When he does there is an awkward embrace and a silent reconciliation. Damn if that didn’t bring a tear a to my eye for some reason.
Letting things go, letting things play out
It’s tough to let things go. Whether we’re talking about ideas, beliefs, memories, balloons, plans…sometimes letting anything go can be difficult. Maybe there are memories that you just can’t get past. Perhaps somebody wronged you and just thinking about it chaps your ass every time. Attachment is almost always the cause of suffering. Mental suffering at least. A stick in the eye hurts, regardless. That sort of pain isn’t what I’m talking about.
The pain I’m talking about is the pain that comes from expectations. From being attached to something in a way that isn’t healthy. I’m attached to things and suffer because of it. Does reminding myself help? Not immediately. But I’ve found that pondering attachment and reminding myself from time to time to let things go can help. A little bit at least.
There are things for which nothing can be done. I can’t help Reverend Randall with his lost garage. I can’t help my mother with the loss she feels about her babies growing up and moving on or the past that haunts her. I can’t help my friend that lost her father to a semi or the couple that lost their 3 year old girl last year. These things happened. That is the suck.
This is the year that I work on just letting things ride. As my mentor and analyst the Waltzing Bear says, “just let it play out.” As my wife is fond of saying, “It is what it is.”
As Tom Robbins said, “It is what it is, you are what you it, there are no mistakes.”
This picture was taken a couple years ago at my in-laws in Kalkaska. This balloons was from their 50th anniversary party. What a feeling to let a balloon go, so irretrievable and GONE.
Everything matters or nothing matters.
The title of this post is your classic dualist argument. It is either this or that. But rarely are things black and white.
I was chatting with my wise co-worker today about things being gray. We were commenting on how nothing is black and white…and that all are shades of gray. But it occurred to me that this is just another dualistic way of thinking. What about other colors?
Today was interesting, like every day. My mundane life ticks away, filled with normal things everybody else is doing. I mowed my lawn and probably mulched a number of frogs like the one on my finger. I tried to avoid them. Am I a mass murderer? I thought about this the entire time I was mowing, constantly apologizing to the frogs. Wishing them peace in their next life.
After mowing I had dinner with the Mrs. and drank a couple delicious beers: Bells Two Hearted Ales. It’s my favorite these days. After that I spliced a phone wire going to the upstairs in preparation for a chance to our phone service tomorrow. Digital voice, here we come.
Before this my brother calls to tell me that his three car garage burned down today. The fire trucks were still there when we were talking. He almost lost his house. The firemen were soaking his house down to prevent it from burning. Apparently some of the windows cracked and the siding melted. Holy! Crap! Scary! What do you say to that type of news but, “I’m glad to hear nobody got hurt.” Geez. I feel terrible for him. I started thinking of the stuff he had stored in his garage. His tools, speakers, bikes, sleds, the mini-bike, etc. etc. Fire is a scary, scary thing. Reverend Randall. Shit man. Hang in there.
It’s getting late. I should be working on a number of projects but just don’t have the focus tonight. The sun will rise again tomorrow. 
This is a picture of one of the frogs from our yard. There are hundreds of these frogs in our lawn and around our house. You see them everywhere. Some are even smaller than this one. Cute little sapos. (Portugese for “frog”).
The pressure that is no pressure.
I’ve been reflecting on the pressure I impose on myself. Pressure about how I should be at work, how I should be in my marriage, how I should be in relation to academic pursuits. I get so easily worked up over grades. Not that I’m taking any classes this summer, but I’m thinking back a month or two.
In fact, I’m thinking back this week to circumstances that unfold in my workplace. If I allow myself, I can get worked up about the littlest things. I know none of it really matters, but this knowledge doesn’t always come up in time to prevent the foot to the mouth.
I blogged on Monday. Since then a number of event filled days have passed. I shot a 54 this week at golf…which is 3 strokes above my average. Not terrible really, but the 5+ balls I lost has depleted my stock to the point of needing to get more. Work makes the days pass quickly while distorting my sense of time.
My wife went to the hairdresser this week. All things considered, I’d give this visit for her a 7.6. I went on a boat ride with a coworker for dinner at a lake side restaurant. We ate pizza on the pontoon with friends that live on the chain of lakes. That was fun but made me yearn for the familiarity and closeness of people around you that you’ve grown up with.
It is sort of late on a Friday. The Tigers weren’t doing that well against the Yankees when I came back and started fussing around with my computers. The wife had fallen asleep with a cat on her lap, relaxing in the cool breeze coming in from the windows. She’s gone to bed now and I’m not far behind. Tomorrow we’ll be working on filling a bed near a retaining wall in our backyard.
This picture was of a tree located on the 15th hole. My partner was looking for his ball when I grabbed my camera for this shot. The split trunk shows adaptation and a will to survive.
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