Semi-Daily Scribbles

Badgered

Dirk wandered into a fever dream disguised as an office cubicle. He'd just been assigned a post at a very important firm that made magic by counting numbers. He slid into an available stall and waited for work to flow in. Nervous thoughts pinged and boinged throughout his racing brain. A swath of perspiration that originated in his arm pits spread to the front of his baby blue button down chambray shirt. The boss lady said to Dirk "add up the columns" and "make the figures make sense." After a quick calculation, he couldn't get the centum to square up. He was now carrying a deficit on Day 1 and knew it to be grounds for termination. At prior engagements he had witnessed such horrors befall colleagues and refused to believe he'd be kicked out of the clan before lunch. Dirk missed the portends. He'd undervalued the projection. He envisioned his mother tossing his belongings into the street. He hearkened back to high school when he didn't make swing choir and nobody ever told him the reason why. Now, just like then, Dirk had presented an unsatisfactory performance that would forever be a mysterious blight on his ability to see/hear/feel the same vibrations as the rest of humanity.

A Space for the Aged

...and now a word about Substack. I'm an oldster who misses the MySpace and Tumblr era. Creative, fun hangouts where the cool kids held court. I don't recall ever having to dodge freak-a-zoids on those early social media platforms. Substack, however, is a different beast. I've only been an active "Content Creator" for a month, although I've had the Substack app on my phone for a while since I enjoy reading the works of a few of my favorite journalists and novelists. Still do, by the way. But no one DM'd me on MySpace to convey the message: "You have pretty eyes. I want to fuck you." How could a bookish nerd like me resist engaging with this gem of a human in meaningful literary discourse? It does appear, however, the creeps seem to be outnumbered by talented, smart, funny and kind writers with whom I've had great conversations. I've even summoned the courage to post a bit of my poetry which has generated a few Likes and comments. I'll stick with this Substack thing until the article reading, story sharing and pleasant chit chat is overrun by asshats.

When Detachment Is The Goal

Lament the idol rider
Memories arise while one
Browses the aisles
A roadside gift shop
Search for the perfect
Piece of Identity
Dark hair
Dark eyes
Scent of sage and chocolate
Strong Arms
Wind blew in through
The Cracks
We looked upon
Rolling Hills
Jade Forests
Through grease-smeared glass
And Paradise resides
Beyond the Next
Blind Curve

Keep Scratching
Keep Detaching
You'll Strike A Nerve
Someday

Dinner Party

08-12-14

Ten years since the day we parted and I forgot to say Hey! 2024 has just been that way. Spinnin' wheels, stuck in reverse. I truly do think about you all the time, except for this year I completely forgot about commemorating your Rainbow Bridge journey. With your sister by your side, I bet the days are jam-packed with roughhousing, lounging, snacking and snoozing. Hopefully there's a system in place so you and lil' get lots and lots of belly rubs.

Your Pa and I have been playing lots of guitar and singing songs to basically keep us out of trouble, but if we get good the plan is to become buskers and travel around in a camper van. You'd have made a great assistant going around to our throng of spectators with the donation hat between your chompers. Too cute with all your salt and pepper ringlets! We'd be sure to sing around the campfire, too, since you always loved going on trips to the beach, mountains and everywhere in-between.

I'm going to let you get back to playing and/or resting. I can't believe I almost let this yearly post slide right on by. You might know this already, but your Grandma passed in June and the days have gone all wonky. Like kids are back in school! It's been tough keeping track of things. You be good and know we think of Our First & Curliest Girl all the time.

Callin' On A Favor

Safe Travels

Still raw from saying goodbye at the beginning of the month, but it's gotten a bit easier to breathe. Been receiving lovely messages from friends wanting us to know the many ways in which you helped them and provided countless good times that'll last as precious memories. I've been going through letters and photographs and that's been a good way to process all the jumbled emotions. Here are a few snapshots of the Summer of 2012 when you came to visit on your cross country drive to see Barb & Bernie. That was a solo trip you wanted to add to your list of I Did This! You did reach your destination and had a grand adventure with stories to share when the new school year started.

Speaking of road trips, I'm looking for the photos from our family vacations. I'm including this link because not only is it a beautiful story, but it's also about a place we visited to camp and fish. The Tuesday mentioned in the article made my breath catch in my throat.

I'll check in soon with more pictures and thoughts.

A Higher Degree of Love

It's been two days since you left this place to start a new journey. Odd thing, time. It holds no meaning, serves no particular purpose Right Now since I'm bouncing all over the place with all sorts of Memories & Thoughts. I'll be sharing snippets and photos for a while until I can write a proper thing to describe who you were and what that means to me. I've reached out to the Indio & PacNW crews and those good folks have told me how much they love/admire/appreciate you. They've all relayed similar messages about how you helped them become better people, both for themselves and their loved ones. That's a pretty cool thing for your pals to feel and pass along.

I'll keep this ramble short, but wanted to share that the date you took off for greener fields adds up to be The Number Nine:
Nine is often associated with completion and fulfillment. It represents the end of a cycle, suggesting that something has reached its full potential or purpose.

And yes...I'm still playing guitar...

Pink Slip

Human Existence

HOMEWORK

What comprises generational trauma?
- Alcoholism
- Death by Suicide
- Denial
- Depression
- Drug Addiction
- Lack of Education
- Misogyny
- Poverty
- Racism
- Rape
- Schizophrenia
- Silence

Make a list of self-sabotaging behaviors.
Procrastination. Analysis Paralysis. FoMO. Poor Time Management. O.K. With Being Not Okay. Stare / Compare / Go Nowhere. Cheerleader for Everyone But Me.
Imposter Syndrome. Don't Always Speak Up Because People Comment On My Vocabulary? Inaction-Due-To-Distraction. Not Always Up For New Experiences.
Squirrel!

Survival, trials, experience are shades across the spectrum that make you/me not understand me/you. Common ground shifts with each step.

The sentiment meant something in the moment
And the moment's gone