Sunday, May 22, 2011



I want you to look at this picture. Simply look. I don't want you to see it. Seeing something is not the same as looking at it. Seeing implies that you divulge something from what you see. Believe me... I just want you to look.

Look at this picture. Granted, you'll immediately find your Father. Next, if you're as twisted as I, you will find the juvenile humor in the sign placement. Granted, all of that is hilarious to me, but I don't want you to see it. I want you to look further.

If you look, you'll find something out of place. That fuzzy little bit in the bottom left hand corner.

That's a Pal.

Someone who has endeared (endured works here as well) themselves with you to put up with your childish whims, your broken moments, and your lowest gasps. Someone who has seen your naked ass running into the Atlantic Ocean at midnight, even if you felt upstaged by people half your age, and still held the towel for when you emerged from such a foolish endeavor.

That's a pal.

Pals last for good.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Forgotten - Letter Number 1

Letter Number 1.

We're such an intriguing species. We're capable of such compassion, such honest devotion to one another, to the point where the single, most precious gift we all carry has been given back for another. So beautiful in that respect. So pure.

We're also capable of such devastating cruelty. So adept at singular survival that the imagination is boundless beneath the thought of that capability. So desperate for another gulp of air that we would destroy for it. Even ourselves, if it meant another could never inhale it outside of our presence.

It perplexes me to the point of languish. Not because I don't understand it... but because I do. I'm both. Just like you. Just like each of us.

Contrary to what you'll hear countless times over, life is not a journey. A journey has a beginning, a path, and an ending. Life is not like that. Life is a perpetual state of moments. Simple, definable instances wherein we realize who we are, what we are, and what we're doing. It is not a road. It is a rest stop. Life is a whole bunch of "Now". Nothing more, Nothing less.

What that means is that the best you can be, the best you can do, the most goodness you can find, and the most goodness you can give... has to be given Now. Right now. Not tomorrow. Tomorrow will never exist. Not Yesterday. Yesterday died a violent death. Right now is all you'll ever have. A perpetual state of Now. An immortal loop, an unending ride, a wild and restless state of absolute awareness. Every day, with every breath, you're defining Here. You're defining You in the mind of those around you.

People are remembered all the time. That's not hard to accomplish.

You make sure you're not Forgotten... for a little while, at least. ;)

There is a difference.

And Now is when it all matters.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Those Things

One of your Daddy's favorite Songwriters passed away last year. Ironically, he hailed from Georgia.

In more irony, he passed away in my hometown of Roanoke, Va. I just wanted you to know those things.

It's a small world but there is a whole lot of good sound bouncing around in it.

As an aside, your Daddy wrote a song about rain once too.

I think that Man knew what he was talking about.