Tagged: men

She’s A Djeeen-yus!

“Trees,” she said in response to the prompt he gave.

After hearing “I see…” and seeing his finger point to the cars on the page, she responded, “Cars.”

He turned the page.  The next page had two scenes.  In the first, the main character painted a wall blue.  In the second, the main character’s friend colored the wall red with a crayon.  He continued the challenge-response game.

“I see…” he queried, pointing to the blue.

“Paint,” she finished.

Smiling ear-to-ear, he chuckled.  “Ha.  Good.  I would have also accepted ‘Blue’.”

The Last Time He

The last time he unquestionably believed something because of the proponent’s position in society he was a child.  This is not because he thought position, rank and/or authority were easily gained, but because he wanted to keep ever sharp his ability to think for himself.

And because there is that point, increasingly difficult to identify over time, when trust becomes foolishness–itself only a few steps away from danger.

How To Ruin Food

(If you’re short on time, skip to the bottom for numbered instructions.)

“I really shouldn’t eat this, what with it containing 12 grams of saturated fat.  Oh well, I’ll put in extra time at the gym tonight,” he said scarfing down the burger.

“I know.  I really went overboard last weekend on the late night snacking.  I think I ate two entire bags of chips and salsa,” she replied in kind.

They continued this way for the duration of the time it took for them to wolf down other foods they shouldn’t eat because of words and numbers on the packaging.  I know because I was eating with them.  You see, they were my friends.  I hadn’t seen them in such a long time, and I had finally made time to grab a bite to catch up with them.  By the time the food–if we can even call it that anymore–was finished, I was able to ask, “So how’s life?  What have you been up to?”

“It’s good.  Really good.  Oh, but look at the time.  I really need to get going if I’m going to make it to the restaurant on time after work tonight.  I really need to stop eating out so much,” she said.

Instruction for How To Ruin Food

Step 1 – Believe that there is any relationship between nutritional facts and self-discipline.

Step 2 – State the relationship.

Step 3 – Repeat Step 2 until time runs out.

All Good

Pete couldn’t remember meeting her.  He thought that was weird.  Then again, a big sister would’ve always been there, wouldn’t she have?  I guess he did have some early memories of her.  There was the often told bike incident with little Steven.  Oh, and for some reason he could remember her displaying shyness whenever it was clear she liked a certain boy.  And he’d never forget his favorite memory of their childhood.  It was the day he, ahem, stumbled upon a certain diary entry which contained a baggie of gum that she saved after she was given it–handed–directly from the mouth of a crush of hers.  (Not having much time for fear of being caught, he only found it because it prevented the book from closing properly).

He was so selfish that he always took credit for initiating his own desire to live with integrity.  Today, however, Pete finally took a minute and realized she necessarily would have been a founding influence, even if just subconsciously.  She did the ‘right things’ as a child, and not only stayed out of trouble, but was rewarded for it.  Rewarded with high grades at school, with being well-liked by everyone who knew her, and with achieving success in her passions.  Those were only a few of the things he unwittingly observed growing up with her.

She also never questioned or interfered with his dreams and pursuits.

Their only moments of tension came when he was too evangelical about the need for everyone to be like him.  Oh, and the morning when she criticized the smell of the slightly burnt scrambled egg-whites.  He was pretty upset at her for that.  What could he say?  Egg-whites were one of his only meals whose flavor he enjoyed some 60 days into the restrictive pre-contest diet, and she just had to say something, didn’t she?  Oh well.  On this day he is in no mood to hold grudges–he’s just sayin’.

These days he sees how she raises her family.  There is a lot of stress, there is a lot of yelling, there is a lot of frustration.  But what her children will remember is that there was a loving mom.  Always.  And that constancy, Pete and his sister (and their brother for that matter) knew from experience, was priceless.  In this moment of contemplation, he realized that her continuing to live with the values she demonstrated as a child should have never surprised him.  Either way, for him at least, the story only gets better.

There came a time when he needed help.  He needed someone he could rely on no matter what.  He needed a partner who wouldn’t judge him and who would hold him accountable.  His mind raced through the names of everyone he knew.  There was one name with which he couldn’t find fault, one name which he couldn’t dismiss, one name he knew he wouldn’t lie to out of respect, one name he knew would not let him off easy, and one name who would respect him through the journey.  There was one name whose unfailing love blinded her to weakness leaving only strength.

That name was Kate.  Thank you Kate.  And “Happy Birthday!”  All Good.

Longing

We used to be so close.  Your touch was so soft, so warm.  When I needed you, you were always there for me.  Sometimes you’d pull away in the middle of the night.  Sometimes you’d get all twisted up.  Sometimes it seemed like I had to fight to get you back.  But return, you always did.

Recently, I feel like the one who has been neglecting you.  I’m the one who has been staying away some nights.  I’m the one who has chosen a shoddy imitation of you–even though I know better.

When we touched the other night I almost cried.  A flood of memories came rushing back.  We used to spend hours upon hours together.  You don’t know how desperately I want to return to that life.  I just can’t right now.  There are bills to pay.  There are mountains to explore.  There is writing to do.

I’m sorry Sheets, but I just don’t think this reduced amount of time together will end anytime soon.  I miss you.

A Letter to Friends Who Challenge Me – That I’ll Never Write

Dear Friends Who Challenge Me,

I’m writing to you on this fine September day because we need to talk.  Please understand writing this letter was not easy for me.  I can already hear some of your responses and I have only completed three sentences.  I simply wanted to say, “Thanks, but no thanks.”

You see, you have all–unintentionally I hope–ruined my life.  Up until I met you, I was happy-go-lucky and really thought I knew which way was up.  I went about my days with little or no concern for…anything, really.  The people I surrounded myself with would empathize with my every feeling.  If I was sad, they would shower me with sympathy cards.  If I was happy, they would throw me a party.  If I was mad, they would come rushing to my defense.  It was really quite wonderful.

Then you guys entered my life.  I can’t even remember which of you I met first, or how we met.  What I do remember is how I felt as you didn’t empathize.  At first, I can’t deny that you had appeal simply because you were different–as if a lightening bolt.  But over time, I learned to love you guys.  You provided a balancing perspective that I nearly forgot existed.  I treasured the perspective.  I finally felt grown up.

Living with you in my life taught me to really evaluate the situation.  Should I be sad?  Should I be happy?  Was anger really the appropriate response?  And no matter where we disagreed, you always let me make up my own mind and go my own way.  Your authenticity tore-down the shelter that my fear and laziness constructed.

Just the same, I think the time has come for us to part ways.  I know.  I know this is difficult and confusing for you to hear.  Believe me when I tell you I haven’t come to this decision lightly.  My problem is I just can’t relate to ‘normal’ people anymore.  When they live and talk, I want to be authentic with them, as you have been authentic with me.  It doesn’t work.  These new friends go silent.  They have no response.  Some of them become visibly agitated.  I have been called “mean.”  Their shelter is too strong.  More than that, they don’t even want to believe they have one.

You and I know that they’ll be happier without it, but I am still mad at you.  I feel so lost in these new situations that I really do think the best thing is for me to rebuild my own shelter.  I think it will be nice to take a break for a while.  I hope you can understand this decision, though I know you never will.  Maybe we’ll meet again someday.

Once Your Friend,

A Mugwump

How To Laugh

(If you’re short on time, skip to the bottom for numbered instructions.)

“You have a sister?  What’s she like?”

“She’s cool.  You’ll like her.”

“Do you guys look alike, notwithstanding she’s a girl?”

“Not really.  She’s a lot lighter than me.  It’s actually kinda funny.  My sisters are all light brown, while I’m black–even though we have the same parents.”

“I knew someone who had the same problem.”

“What problem?  What problem is that?”

Lucky for her, he asked this only moments before bursting into one of the most contagious laughs imaginable.  Lucky for her, he had one of the best senses-of-humor available.  His ability to laugh transformed a moment more serious souls might have let become negatively charged into one filled with the glorious sounds of laughter.  Laughing uncontrollably, even she was unable to successfully join enough words together to mount whatever self-defense she had in mind.

Instructions for How To Laugh:

Step 1 – Resist all temptation to believe people actually think before they speak.

Step 2 – While smiling, immediately exhale the full amount of whatever air happens to be in your lungs.

Step 3 — Inhale as able.

Step 4 – Appropriate to the situation, repeat Steps 2 and 3 with ridiculously nonsensical  rhythm.

Three Priceless Quarters

One wake up.  That’s all that stood between him and the mountains.  Having just arrived home from work, he decided to go ahead and bring the necessary gear stored in the garage into the house.  Man, he hadn’t used his blue Kelty external frame pack for years.  Lifting it off the bottom shelf of the tall grey wooden shop-cabinet in the garage, he was immediately awestruck by how familiar the metal felt within his hand.  The memories came rushing back.

The outermost flap pocket was bulging with a several yellow trash bags which doubled as poor-man rain covers for the pack when necessary.  His very own four season, dual door, dual vestibule Eureka K2 XT tent finally rendered those unnecessary.  He put them aside.

Curiosity took over.  He wondered if the pack still had the devotional and music books from scouting days.  Yup.

What other treasures did the pack contain?  Muskol–the best insect repellent available.  Ah, deet.  He chuckled to himself as he remembered that he used to derive great pleasure from reading other brand’s deet percentages knowing they had only puny, laughable amounts of deet.  Yes, Muskol was the best ever, and it was his.

What else…  Oh, here’s something: a Ziploc bag filled with materials for a homemade first-aid kit.  What’s this?  Three quarters.  “Wow,” he startled himself not realizing he exclaimed that out loud.  It all came rushing back.  His scout leaders always recommended carrying a few quarters in case a pay phone was needed.  Those quarters had been in that bag, in that pack for over 15 years.  Those three quarters exemplified the two most eloquent, powerful words he’d ever heard:  Be prepared.

Happy Labor Day.

This Past Sunday Women Learned There Is A Fourth Species of Spider…Now Wondering, “Are there more?”

Black Widow, Brown Recluse, Daddy Long legs.  Until Sunday, women knew of no other spiders.  Until Sunday, women would see a spider, then say, “Is it a Black Widow?”

Or, “I think that’s a Brown Recluse…I read that leaving near-empty mayonnaise jars out will act like a trap, if you suspect you have them.”

Or, “Hey, look, a Daddy Long Legs.  Did you know that Daddy Long Legs are the most deadly spider in the world?  It’s true.  They just don’t have big enough teeth to pierce our skin.  Kill it anyway, will ya, hon?”

But this past Sunday, a spider had the nerve to bite a woman.  The spider didn’t look anything like one of the three, so she did what any reasonable women would do and Google’d it.  Using her phone to take a picture, she searched Google Images for the spider.  Lo and behold, it was another species of spider altogether.  All along she thought there were only three species of spiders.

Words cannot describe the joy she felt as she called her mom to share the news.  Naturally, her mom didn’t believe her at first.  But then her mom remembered that her father had always said there were more than three types of spiders when she told him what she thought she saw when she was growing up.

Alas, the elated feelings were fleeting as the mother daughter tandem soon realized they unknowingly opened the door to learning.  “Are there more species we don’t know about?” they silently wondered to themselves.