Sacrificial Fries

This post has nothing to do with fries...yet. Have you ever had one of those days when you just want to strip to your skivvies and go play in the warm summer rain? Ok, maybe not as an adult, there are some serious moral and public nudity issues we have to deal with if we did, but have you ever felt like it?

We went to Lagoon last Friday and it was fun outside of the heat. On the way home I had some fun dips on the memory pool about Lagoon and one of them was a time the summer I turned 16. My friend Ryan R. worked at Lagoon and he was going to try and sneak me into an employee only pool party by giving me his badge and him getting in on knowing the people. Alas, a storm blew in and they cancelled the party just as we got there due to lightning. Major bummer. But he had planned to meet up with a group of other employees so we all headed to a park in Centerville, changed into our swimsuits and played in the rain at the park.

The next time that I remember was at my orientation for SUU. Being into theater in high school, I'd come out of my shell more...yes, it really was more. So I got to talking with several of the other freshman hanging out waiting for something...I don't remember what. But it started raining. And I couldn't help it. I excused myself and went out and sang and danced in the rain. I totally blame it on choir and theater. :) The other freshman thought I was a little odd (at least that's as much as they told me when I came back in).

This summer we have had some wonderful summer rains and I've watched them all from the comfort of my cube or my house but never revelled in the freedom found getting soaked and not caring. So the next time it rains this summer, I encourage you to go out and enjoy it no matter how old you are.

Inspiration

What a fickle thing inspiration is. Where it comes from is a mystery. Why it chooses one person out of a group and not another is baffling. But come it does and what you do with it is the ultimate decision.

And so it is that I've embarked on yet another writing project. But first let me give some background. I've joined a writing club started by my friend Ryan. One of the first things we did was an activity where we drew 3 slips of paper that had random words written on them. Then we were to write roughly two pages of a story using those 3 words. The next month we switched stories (round-robin) and drew 3 new words and so forth until it came back to the original writer and that person was to finish it. Well, I completely forgot so I wrote about a page or so during the next meeting just on the fly. When it came back to me, I cut out pretty much everything the other two had written but I liked the ideas that they had introduced. So I started re-writing. I'm now 40 8.5x11, single-spaced, 11 point font pages into it and only on chapter 5 of 16 planned. I have some work to do.

Then as I drove to work, inspiration hit. The story wasn't new but I started seeing it. I'm a big movie fan. I love to watch movies. Many times I get ideas that I 'see' in my head like I'm watching a movie. And so it was with this. And because of that I decided to make this a screenplay. A straight to movie script. It's the story of the sword in the stone...good old King Arthur. So while the basic plot that Arthur pulls the sword from the stone and becomes king is just like the Disney version, the only other similarity is that Merlin is there and a wizard. But I'm hoping that the story around that is what will draw you in. Only time will tell.

I'm glad I didn't ignore inspiration as I think this may be one of my favorite projects ever. Kind of crazy for me though. In high school I was a poet. Prose frustrated and eluded me. Now, while I can still write a good poem, my ideas have grown to more epic proportions.

Please sir, I'd like some more....

Time is not a luxury. Nor is it a right or an entitlement. Time is just there. Like oxygen, carbon and nitrogen. Or dirt, grass or sun. People speak of time lost or wasted like it was a set of keys or a half-eaten hamburger. They refer to the best time of their life as though it has morphed into some chocolate fudge brownie sundae topped with $100 bills.

Time, I've decided, merely exists to give us something to schedule with. Time passes, you know, like me passing the guy in front of me who has decided to ignore the 65mph sign and keeps going 55. Days begin and end. We've counted them into months and years but I think the only real thing we can measure are days. The sun rises and sets. Except in Alaska and parts of Canada where the sun never really sets during the summer or rises in the winter and they are just out of luck.

We count revolutions around the sun and call them a year but the science isn't perfect so maybe we should stick with revolutions. The native Americans used the cycle of the Moon. Must have been inspired at some point.

I'm Mark and I'm 33 revolutions old.

Culmination and Crashing

The semester is coming to an end...always a great sense of relief knowing that I have only a little left to do and I get a break. Much needed as there wasn't really a break between semesters earlier this year. And then I start in on the death march. I know my wife hates it when I refer to these last 4 semesters like that but I'm trying to be optomistic.

This coming fall I will have class 4 nights a week. It really hit home when I was telling Ethan and Adeena that they needed to be big helpers for Mom because I wouldn't be home until after they are in bed. Adeena asked if I can at least come in and tell them goodnight after I get home but it may not be until after 8:30pm and I'd hope they were sleeping by then. On the up-side, I know my kids still love me and like me around when they say things like that.

My schedule will be kinda crazy because it's going to require I get up half an hour earlier. Which most people wouldn't like but could deal with. But I'm getting up at 5:30am right now. 5 just sounds too scary to think about. We'll see how that goes.

And lastly, I have a great wife. She inspires me, encourages me, expects the world of me and still loves me when the best I can do is give her a little clod of dirt.

Coming Home

The end of a long drive--
filled with people
who still insist
that paying attention to their driving
is not as important
as the text they are sending
or receiving--
culminated in cresting a hill
to see green fields
waving in the breeze.
The skyline of houses
and steeples
I call home
stood waiting for me
like the great city of Oz
and I like some weird hybrid
needing a brain, a heart, some courage
and feeling a little lost
just needed to cross these vast
green fields
in hopes that after I did,
everything would be ok.
Somedays, I do believe
there really is a wizard.

Smelling like a turkey

There must be something in the air. Perhaps it's the changing of the seasons...you know, allergies and stuff, or maybe it's the day and age we live in? I can only guess. Maybe it's the wear and tear of parenthood that grinds on a more selfish generation of adults? You know, we never had to help out on the farm or spend Saturdays working for the family business. We didn't have to learn how to give up what we wanted to help the family. And so now, we've tired of parenthood and want to move on. We want what we want now.

Or maybe we are looking at our parent's generation and thinking they sacraficed so much of what they wanted and look how miserable things turned out. My father loves woodworking but spent 9-5 doing accounting. Are we looking at them and thinking we don't want to end up the same? There is a great line at the end of a slightly funny but also crude show called "Accepted" where the kid asks a bunch of adults on the school accredidation board if they wanted to be administrators when they were in school? Is this what they wanted to be when they grew up??

I don't have those answers. I'm just asking the questions. Because I'm there too. I spent my youth trying to figure out what I wanted to be when I grew up. When I figured it out, I didn't have the guts, the faith, the willingness to risk collosal failure to try and be what I wanted. Instead I went into IT. Now software testing. Hopefully in a few years software development. Don't get me wrong, outside of a coworker here and there I have really enjoyed what I do and what I'm working towards but in high school this isn't where I saw myself.

Am I too late? Did I already squander the time I had to persue my dreams and now I'm locked into my current path? Should I just "grow up" and accept that being an adult means doing what you have to or what makes you feel okay but not what makes you happy? Or do I try and make the time to pursue my dreams on the side?

I believe that is compromise my generation is making that many of our parents didn't. We are trying to do it all and not feel guilty for it. I believe it can happen. With proper planning and organization and NOT letting one squeeze out the others and learning when to let one dominate for a little while but still allow for the rest, I believe we can achieve the lives we want both from a personal and family perspective. My sister-in-law used to tell her kids that after they went to bed it was her time. And during HER time she went by her first name, not Mom. Personally, I don't think we really ever get to take off the parent hat. But maybe we cover it up instead. If it's not an emergency, I'm taking a lunch break from parent-mode.

To achieve this utopia, we need to be willing to sacrefice on all fronts a little. But with communication, understanding and set expectations, we should be able to do it. When I get done trying to fit student, dad, husband, employee, handyman, actor, and writer into my life, I'll let you know how it goes. Right now I'm doing a right crappy job on most fronts. But here is to the dream and I hope you find a way to achieve it.

April Showers are supposed to be rain

Ahh snow...how I dislike thee (we aren't supposed to hate), let me count the ways:
1) You are cold
2) You require cold to exist
3) You make travel treacherous
4) IT'S APRIL!!
5) Did I mention the cold?

And just so I don't totally miss a month, I'm posting this on the next to last day of what should be a spring-time April...you know the one where I watched a virtual blizzard out my office window. But let's not throw Mother Nature under the bus, it's us humans doing it, right. Global warming and all of that.

Anyone ever hear the term "yard fun"? Yeah me neither. Why do I have one when the only word it gets paired with is "work"? I guess in the 50's it was so Dad could experience the frustration of Mom at having to do a lot of work, only to watch it be undone. But now that we live in an enlightened age where Dad should be washing dishes and doing laundry and cleaning the house, can't we get rid of yard work? Can't we just get grass that greens up on it's own, doesn't need sprinklers that break every year, and stays the same nice even height? I mean, come on!