Archives for the month of: June, 2007

Lately I’ve been tak­ing after­noon walks to free my mind of cre­ative restraint or to just breath in the fresh air. It’s a change that I’ve wel­comed, even if my legs don’t always thank me for it.

Instead of just tak­ing in the sights around me I’m also begin­ning to lis­ten more, pay­ing close atten­tion to the sounds of nature and the par­tial con­ver­sa­tions I pick up on while on my walk.

Since we live in a vil­lage (with a pop­u­la­tion of less than 5,000), small talk car­ries itself through the walls of homes, in meet­ing hot spots like the park or the local super­mar­ket and you’re always bound to run into some­one you know.

It’s a lot like Cheers, where every­one knows your name or at least your fam­ily name.

On my most recent stroll through the vil­lage I noticed a fel­low stand­ing on the street cor­ner in front of a Mom & Pop diner. He looked about in his 50s, but with all of his hair still intact and I kid you not, his attire con­sisted of a tank top, shorts and dress shoes. He was yelling to a friend across the street, who non­cha­lantly con­tin­ued on his way until he noticed his loud companion.

They both laughed, one teas­ing the other and I moved on. You might see this kind of thing in every­day life, to you it might even be mun­dane or commonplace.

For some­one like me who has ten­dency to extrap­o­late the small stuff, which works to my ben­e­fit and some­times just the oppo­site, these kinds of occur­rences are impor­tant for a few reasons.

One, that life really is like a play and there are pat­terns that we all rec­og­nize and become used to. There’s no spe­cial for­mula to obser­va­tion, you either pay atten­tion to details or you don’t. I’ve been informed by peo­ple that small occur­rences in life like two guys meet­ing on the street aren’t worth remem­ber­ing or men­tally archiving.

Yet, life is an expe­ri­ence. It’s more than just a few months strung into years, it’s moments and mem­o­ries and every­thing else.

When some­one lets you know that their child stood up for the very first time, you might be inter­ested for a moment and then together your reac­tions don’t align. For the par­ent of the child, this is mon­u­men­tal, a mile­stone in the growth and devel­op­ment of their child.

To you, even if you might be related, that same feel­ing the par­ent had isn’t what you are feel­ing because it may not be as impor­tant. We’ve got to keep track of a lot of infor­ma­tion, this may not deserve a folder in the stor­age of our minds.

I might be a spe­cial case because I can selec­tively recall things/thoughts/occurrences that hap­pened years ago. Most of these moments in time would’ve been long for­got­ten by most, but I hang onto things that might have made a dif­fer­ence to me.

Even if that means not hav­ing the same emo­tional attach­ment as the per­son who deliv­ered the mes­sage or the guy yelling at his friend across the street, it’s some­thing I cherish.

The only down­side is my short-term mem­ory leaves some­thing to be desired. Recall­ing mem­o­ries from years ago is no prob­lem (in some cases), but there are times when I remind myself of some­thing and moments later the mem­ory or reminder only par­tially remains.

Dri­ving home tonight after a deli­cious meal, my daugh­ter, spon­ta­neous as ever, looks up at me and in her best pirate expres­sion growls; “Arghh! I’m a pirate!”.

What fol­lowed was a con­ver­sa­tion between a three-year-old pirate, her par­rot Steve and me, her “Pirate Daddy”.

Zoe: Arggh! I’m a pirate. You are a pirate too.

Me: Avast, ye scurvy sea dog! Y’best walk the plank.

Zoe: Okay. Daddy, this plank is heavy. I can’t carry it.

Me: (laugh­ing) I said walk the plank, not carry it.

Zoe: I put it down here. That was so heavy, Pirate Daddy.

Me: Shiver me tim­bers! Where be your par­rot, Steve?

Zoe: He flewed away! In the sky. Argggh!

Me: Yar! Next time keep an eye on Steve. A pirate isn’t a pirate with­out his parrot.

Zoe: Hand me a map. We need to go there. (points) And where we’re there, we then go here.

There are a few things I’d like to accom­plish in my life before my time comes. Many of these will prob­a­bly never hap­pen while oth­ers have a greater chance of actu­ally being fulfilled.

It’s not mat­ter of when but how and using what for most, but for the sake of pos­ter­ity and for fun here they are:

Jamaican Bob­sled­ding

I’m not sure who to thank, Cool Run­nings or John Candy, but I’d love to rep­re­sent and make Jamaica proud by slid­ing down an icy slope with other strangers as crazy as me.

Be a Real­ity Tal­ent Show Judge

Just sit, nit­pick, joke, blink. Rinse & repeat.

Fin­ish Super Mario Bros.

Some­times I lay in bed at night, totally for­get about life’s other wor­ries (bills, squir­rels in attic, etc.) and dwell on the fact that I’ve never com­pletely fin­ished SMB.

Run for Office, Win and Quit

At least I’d have a bunch of lawn flags for souvenirs.

Trade a paper­clip for a stapler

It’s never hap­pened before. Never.

Learn “Rocket Science”

Next time some­one says, “This isn’t rocket sci­ence…”, I can reply; “Well, duh.” and then flash my street cred.

Swim along­side Whales

I have a real fear of deep ocean water. Pulling this off would be noth­ing short of a mir­a­cle, plus whales, how cool would that be?

Trade a sta­pler for gold popcorn

Solid. Gold. Popcorn.

Climb Mt. Fiji

Why? To bot­tle the best-tasting water myself.

Paint a Masterpiece

Sell said mas­ter­piece for $23 mil­lion, invest $13 mil­lion and use the rest to buy Blue Fla­vor.

Leap off a high ledge into a river filled with Jello

My lim­ited knowl­edge of basic physics tells me this might be a bad idea. (Note to self: Write the Myth­buster guys about this one.)

Color “out­side” the lines

I’ve never once in 20+ years been able to break this rule. It doesn’t seem right.

Sail on a Pirate Ship

Par­rot on shoul­der (must take AA bat­ter­ies), fake peg leg and a chest full of gold foil wrapped chocolate.

Build a Robot

Pro­gram it to say “Dis-assemble”, “Innn-put” and “Stephanie”. The last one he’d have to shout endlessly.

Learn Sign Language

For all the good rea­sons and so I won’t miss out on things, plus silent con­ver­sa­tion is nice.

Take the fam­ily to Europe

Expe­ri­ence cul­ture shock at its finest and for the sou­venirs of course.

Moving boxes

After much delib­er­a­tion and tem­po­rary insan­ity I’ve moved this site to its new home at Medi­aTem­ple.

The neigh­bors here are pretty great. No cook­ies yet, but lawns are mowed, my mail­box is still stand­ing and I’ve since removed the Ram­boLux secu­rity sys­tem. I kept the guard dog how­ever so intrud­ers beware!

My mail car­rier is some friendly chap named Google. He’s help­ful but the guard dog keeps a watch­ful eye in his direction.

For the time being the grid is sta­ble and all my stuff is in order, save for a bro­ken Mint. That’s okay though, I’ll just fix that later because I’ve got other fish to fry.

With that, I’m all out of clichés and my back is a bit sore.

If you have any com­ments, just slide them under the door.

P.S. — Remodeling is long over­due so please excuse any future mess.

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