Day 10: A song that reminds you of your father

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vef03k5i8VI&ob=av2n

I just turned 24. Seems surreal, but that's not the point, I know. Still, brings about another little psychological connection that interlaces emotions and memories.

Sweet guitar part, too.

Poetry for Parents Part 2

Dad, we should go shooting
because it's really fun
In fact, we COULD go tomorrow
If I were on the run.

You see, I'm pretty bored here
without a job to speak of
All I do is sit around
and think of rhymes.

I know I kind of used that joke before
It is probably not so funny
What can I say? no creativity.
At least the sun is sunny.

I'll go out soon
maybe get some exercise
Ah who am I kidding?
I can't fill you with my lies.

There is however a dance in town
Maybe I'll make a friend
That would be really great
good news for me to send.

Well you better get packing
the house for you to move
It's just a matter of getting started
getting yourself in the groove

If you hurry up now
you could have the place clean
before winter sets in
heaven forbid in the spring.

I guess I'll leave you alone now
reading poetry isn't your thing
Maybe I'll grab my microphone
and sing sing sing sing sing.

Bob Ross is my new hero

I don't have any one hero. There is no singularity in my hero roster. A quick list of heroes off the top of my head includes Bruce Lee, my Dad, my friend Sir Alexander, and now-- Bob Freakin' Ross.

How does someone get so laid back and so cool? He's obviously an artistic genius, creating awesome paintings, but he's also... calming and soothing. Happy trees, happy clouds, happy mountains... They all seem so ridiculous, but he's says it so insignificantly, as if we all refer to bushes and water as "happy".

Anyway, I want to paint now.

Here's another excerpt from the book:

The door is open slightly, and I knock lightly before entering. On the right is a wooden door labeled “Sauna.“ To my left is the shower, a large communal type with high, broad shower heads. It is practically a large, stainless steel rain factory, and in the middle stands the Captain lathering her hair.

"Captain?" I ask.

She doesn't hear me at first, so I speak up, and with a calm turn, she faces me.

"What is it?"

"I was just wondering where the fruit was."

"It should be in the fruit holder in the fridge. Did you look there?"

"I thought I did, but I must have missed it. I'll look again."

I turn to go, but I catch a glimpse of a pink scar on her side. I opt not to say anything right now.

Rechecking the fridge yields nothing. It is empty of everything but milk and deer meat. I want to give the Captain her privacy, but something drives me to see her again. I reconsider and find myself heading down the hall once again.

This time, the Captain is facing the entryway as I enter.

"Not there?" She asks.

"No, there is only milk and deer meat in the fridge."

"That's odd. It was there last I checked. I'll find something for you in a minute." She rinses her hair and applies conditioner. Then notices that I haven't left. "Was there anything else?"

"I just noticed your scar there earlier and wondered what it was from."

"It's not the only one, but most of them are smaller. If you come closer you can see." She waves me over so I make my way there, avoiding the water, but little splashes catch me fairly often. When I get within a few feet, I notice, like she said, many more scars. My eyes open wide.

"Don't look so surprised. Everyone has scars."

"I know. I have my share, but you are covered. I didn't notice earlier on deck..."

"They only seem to show up when I'm in the water. Water healed them, and water reminds me…"

"Why is that do you think?"

"Like I said before, my storytelling is incredibly boring. Let's just say that scars sometimes contain ill feelings within them."

I'm not sure I understand, but I nod and turn to leave after taking one last look. The scars are all thick, knotted, and pink. It is strange that I didn't see them beforehand. I’ve never heard of scars that only show up in the water…

Forgetting things

People regularly say they have regrets, or memories they wish they could forget. I've never agreed with that mentality, (even if sometimes I myself say that I wish I could just forget doing something stupid.) particularly because I think there is too much to be learned from past experience than we may realize.

My very worst memory comes from when I was 7 years old, living in Rock Springs, Wyoming. There isn't much to say, except that night, my Dad attempted suicide. It's not a particularly clear memory, and at the time, I wasn't 100% sure of what was going on (I did know a lot, but probably didn't understand the complete consequences of what would happen.).

Anyway, a friend of the family managed to talk my Dad out of it long enough to get the gun out of his hands and for him to fall asleep. The next day, phone calls were made and my dad was admitted into a detox center. He has been sober, drug and alcohol free, for 14 years now. I'm so proud of him that I cannot express it in words.

I'm telling you this, my legions of dedicated and brainwashed fans, because I firmly believe that no memory is worth forgetting. The things I've learned, the value I place on love and life, the love for my Dad that has grown, the decision to seriously limit any alcohol I drink... all things that I wouldn't deem as important if I didn't actively consider my memories. To me, confronting and fighting your fears and past inadequacies is the most honorable thing someone can do for themselves.

I know I haven't had a hard life by any means. I know that things can get hard really fast. For what I've gone through, and for what I've learned from others, coupled together with the basic human imagination and simulating/predicting the future as best I can, this is the most proactive battle plan for life I can follow. Until I've experienced things that sway me otherwise, it is what I will practice and preach.



Also: Boobs.