Lost in the Fog

       It was cold but not windy. The kind of cold that takes a bit to sink into your bones: starting with a quick nip at your neck to make you draw your jacket in closer, walk a little faster. Mid-evening and already the fog had long since settled in, so thick that the streetlights were having trouble shining. They looked more like small holiday lights, popping their light through the nearly opaque air.

   On this evening Jonathan was hurrying home, scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and mouth, hat almost pulled down to his eyes. His feet made swift almost smooth steps on the pavement, nothing but determination in his gait. And so, a few minutes later Jonathan found himself completely surprised that he was entirely lost due to the fog.  It was thick, yes, but he walked this route everyday: down the same blocks, round the same corners, without looking he knew when the pavement turned to cobblestone just from the soles of his feet. He could walk home blind! or...so he had thought.

     Looking around in every direction, Jonathan had no idea where he was. None. Not an iota. He started to breathe a little faster, no he shouldn't panic. There was a park bench to his right, perhaps if he sat for a bit he could get his bearings.

    The mist and fog whirled beside Jonathan to reveal an old woman knitting a gargantuan sock that seem to go on and on. "Hello, M'dear, suffering a loss of direction?"

  "Yes, I've gotten completely turned around.  I'd believe you if you said up that way is the future and behind us lies the past.  Or to our right is Chicago and to our left sits New York City.  It all seems the same all around and its only growing colder."

The old woman continued knitting, her hands flying about to a rhythmic pattern. "Mmm I see.  Humour an elderly woman for a moment, won't you?  Close your eyes.  Now picture yourself still seated on this bench, but mentally push away the fog.  As if you're a painter and with each brush stroke a swath of fog will disappear."

  "This all seems a bit strange and I've never really painted in my life" Jonathan interjected.

"Hush now!  If it seems strange that's because it is: now keep mentally painting the fog away. When you've done that, imagine this bench is on the side of the road-"

  "But aren't we on the side of the road already?"

"-Didn't I say to hush? Maybe we are on the side of the road and maybe we aren't, I told you to imagine.  Right now you're in the fog and you might be anywhere. Now imagine we are on the side of a road.  Picture that the road we are near is the road that leads to your house. Have you got all that in your head?"

   "I think so" Jonathan answered

"Good, then open your eyes" The old woman said, a smile in her voice.

Jonathan opened his eyes to find himself sitting on a park bench alone. The fog had lifted and the stars shone in the sky. Jonathan shook his head and started walking home once again.

Favourite Albums of 2011

Hello everybody! Its the end of the year, so that means I get to tell you which albums I really enjoyed this year. Go check 'em out if you want to!

1) Gotye - Making Mirrors
2) The One AM Radio - Heaven is Attached by a Slender Thread
3) The Decemberists - The King is Dead
4) Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit - Here We Rest
5) Bright Eyes - The People's Key
6) Death Cab For Cutie - Codes and Keys
7) Okkervil River - I am Very Far
8) M83 - Hurry Up, We're Dreaming
9) Foster the People - Torches
10) Starfucker - Reptilians
11) I'm From Barcelona - Forever Today
12) Mates of State - Mountaintops
13)Of Monsters and Men - My Head is an Animal
14) Givers - In Light
15) Wilco - The Whole Love

Archibald

   Archibald stood up and took a bow.  He looked at all the smiling faces and realized that this was it.  This was what he had worked for.  The theatre was filled to the brim, people were standing outside hoping to catch a glimpse of the virtuoso.

   "This must be a bit like what Heaven feels like", Archibald thought as he soaked in the applause.  The air tasted sweet as honey; sugary, effervescent, joy. The kind of memory to look back on in the darkest pales of melancholy.

  The crowd began to chant, "Encore! Encore! Encore!" Over and over again.  So Archibald re-seated himself, left hand flipping violin to chin, right finding the bow.  With a minuscule nod the backing orchestra readied themselves.  He closed his eyes and let his fingers dance upon the strings.  The orchestra followed Archibald's lead, improvising, adding emphasis. The Victorian crowd erupted with approval, shouting, whooping with elation and uncharacteristically shedding their carefully arranged composure.  Wild abandon became the style for the night.  Archibald reveled in it and created music that would not be heard again for years to come.  Jazz was born if but for a moment.  A night to live on through nothing but memory, only familiarity.

The Sandman a Knockin'

Exhaustion, it did cover me
like a blanket on a bed
simply, yet completely
My thoughts were obscured
like a figure in the fog
Portentous pickles in jars
Loquacious butterflies, tin bars
The sandman came a knocking
I made no protest to his mocking,
But wink an eye did I
and let myself flutter off to slumber

Of Monsters and Men
Little Talks

First Official Snow

   Hello everyone, today was awesome because today was for me the first official day with snow of the year.  And you might say to yourself, "But Eric, it has snowed a decent number of times already this year!" Yes, that might be true, but I haven't gotten to witness them either because I have slept too long or the snow has melted, or snowed while I was somewhere else. Today my mom and I went shopping and at the outdoor shopping center the snow was falling gently throughout the afternoon, which made it start to truly feel like the holiday season. So here's to the first official snow fall that I have been able to witness!

Adjustments

I think its time I adjusted the layout of my blog, time to spice things up a bit. Things will be spiffy, I guarantee it. Now to work..or over the next few days probably..this will take some deciding.

A Cold December Night

   She lost her love on a cold December night.  No her lover didn't die; he told her as they walked by the river front, "Babe, I just can't do this, I don't love you any more"

  They parted ways, she kept walking along the river as snow started falling softly.  She felt her love go out like a light, a candle's flame extinguished by the wind.  In its place was only an icy numbness that she found she was perfectly okay with, in fact her new state matched the weather wonderfully.  She smiled ironically and laughed, "Aren't I supposed to be hurting?" she thought to herself.  Well, suppose not, now that there was no heart left to be broken.  She walked on and on, coming to a vista looking out unto the river and connecting bay.  She leaned against the railing, watching as the flakes of snow were getting bigger: so this was what it was like to lose one's love.

A Strange Familiar Land

  We had wandered into a strange land where everything was familiar but different than how we had left it.  A land of old, old women with fading tattoos; Celtic symbols on their hands and cryptic words winding round their bodies.  The women wore their once long hair cropped short, as long hair looked misplaced when you were old.  It was a land of old, old men with saggy ears, tired of carrying long forgotten gauges.  The men wore comfortable cardigans with tiny metal studs in their shoulders to show they still hadn't lost their edge, still hadn't sold out.  And let me tell you, in this strange land these old, old men and old, old women they were hardened by all the years they had seen go by, but baby, when they smiled, oh when they smiled how it lit up a room so completely.  And on Sunday nights, when they'd put their music on the stereo, oh how those smiles shined.

Another Winter Break Begins

Home again for yet another Winter break, possibly the last. Well it's only the last because I'm a senior, if I graduate, there's no more after this. I am back to this house full of soft carpets and level floors and a happy dog, with my head cloudy from being sick. Five weeks of reading. Five weeks of movies. Five weeks of holidays. Five weeks of whatever. Tomorrow in particular my family and I are driving to Wisconsin to celebrate Thanksgiving there. I'm excited to see all my cousins and eat tons of food and relax if there's time for it. Sweet smells of pumpkin pie and cranberries, succulent turkeys roasting.

Overall here are some things I have decided I want to try to do overbreak:

     1) Read some books <--simple enough right?

     2) Watch some movies <--hopefully going to catch up on some I've missed this year, and some new ones in theaters

    3) Get New Walking Shoes and Dancing Shoes <--both would make life easier

    4) Make an End of the Year Music List

    5) Try to go Swing Dancing at least once or twice

    6) Beat the video games I've been working on  <-- summer projects are now winter projects

    7) Keep watching Doctor Who <-- I've been watching on Netflix recently, pretty hooked

    8) Write more <-- my well of inspiration ran a little dry when I got really busy, so hopefully I can fix that

    9) Keep track of concerts coming into the Cleveland area

  10)  Maybe finally change the layout of this blog 

  11) Add more to this list

Musical Preferences

You know what I think is important? Finding out the type of bands/music that you specifically like. Each person is different, and everyone has a slightly different taste in music, if not all forms of art, etc. If you like what's played on your local pop radio station, that's great! If you only like music that consists of cricket chirps and mandolin, well that probably exists somewhere and that is great too! But what I think is important, is to sit down and think about your musical taste preferences.

  Do you like ambient noise? Yes? No? Maybe? Do you think country songs are the bee's knees? Maybe you're secretly into 70's folk music and you just haven't found out yet!  Do you need some chugging bass lines and sultry voices in your life? Grimey hip-hop with super fast rapping? Bands with 30 person harmonies? You might like that! Or maybe Noise with abrasive sounds cutting every which way! Classic Hair-Metal Bands from the 80's? Mo-Town? Maybe you only like to listen to Toto? Do you like Punk-Ska tunes? Give 'em a try maybe you'll enjoy. Afro-Cubano Jazz? Electro-Pop? Do you think Frank Sinatra was the best singer to come around? Poppy love songs? Do you enjoy steel drums tinkling in the background? Justin Bieber hitting high notes? Toe-tappingly fun tunes? Mix-tapes from your best friends?

  The point is there is a lot out there, tons and tons of songs, thousands of bands, endless variety. Don't be afraid to dig a little deeper. But on the same note, whatever you like is all right and don't let anyone tell you differently.  Not one person. Just enjoy what you enjoy.  I can't imagine my life without music, without sound, I think its something important to have in your life.

Now how bout for some African inspired pop music with Hebrew vocals?

Fool's Gold
Surprise Hotel



Now I hope everyone has a fantastic weekend!

Tiny Town

   Then tiny town sat perched upon a hill, rolling green grass in all directions.  To the north was a fine lake, good for fishing or boating.  There was a coal mine to the East, far off.  Encircling the entirety of the town was a wonderful train track, shining brand-new.  Who lived in this picturesque town?  No one, not a puppy, nor a mail-man; though there did happen to be a post office that boasted "Rain, snow or shine, we shall deliver!"on a gold plaque on the front door.  And although there was not a person in the town the grass on the surrounding hill was impeccably well kept, as if an ever vigilant grounds' keeper took the train in each evening to look after the grass.  Fore the train did run twice each evening, promptly at 6:00 pm and then again at 8:00pm.

  There was no groundskeeper taking the train each evening, but the town was loved.  Not from inside, but from outside.  A man took care of this town as if it were his own child; cleaning each structure with a fine brush, painting here and there, outfitting different cars for the train-track, quietly adding to the outskirts of town: buildings or trees or bits of grass.  He was the one who ran the train twice daily, oh how proud he was when the train rain, chugging through the minuscule landscape.

Scorching

  The heat was scorching, utterly suffocating, it seared you clear to the bone sending screams of agony from your throat.  And with the sound of your own voice calling out you wake up startled then absolutely relieved to find yourself in bed and not consumed by flames. The relief washes over you like a wave, cleansing, calming you down 'til you can breath easy once more. You pat the sheets and mattress around you, fluff the pillows and try to get back to sleep.  You're almost comfortable once again, you're wary that the dream might return, but you're tired. You're almost asleep asleep when you smell something burning; something burnt.

   Jumping out of bed without a thought, you are like an animal filled with nothing but panic and terror: your need to survive is absolute. You get to your door, the knob isn't hot yet, but you smell smoke. Quick! Hurry before things get bad. You scurry through the house with hardly a thought for personal possessions. Through the backdoor you roll onto the the dew covered grass of the backyard, escaping deftly as the house becomes engulfed.

Torrential Nostalgia

  I just got home after trekking a mile through the pouring rain.  I had neglected to bring my umbrella this morning, even though upon opening the door I had a gut feeling a storm was coming.  Of I went anyway with the hope I would return home before any rain hit and everything would be fine.

    Like any well made plan or hope this one came apart at the seams.  I ended up spending a little too long at the Library and while time vanished, the water began to fall down from the grey clouds. What could I do but walk home anyway? I couldn't wait forever, so off I went.

   Upon exiting the Library I thought, wow, this Autumn has been much rainier than in years past.  But then I looked back and realized that wasn't quite true.  I ran cross country and we competed in the fall.  The thing you could count on without fail was that the weather would be dismal for at least a few of the meets we attended.  These meets then usually consisted of bundling in layers and futilely trying to find some scrap of dryness under a tent or tree or anywhere.  You shivered and counted down the minutes until you'd have to compete.  Then the time would come and you stood shivering alongside another a hundred other shivering bodies.  Each person trying to stay warm, doing quick wind sprints, jumping up and down to keep the blood flowing.

    With a BOOM!  the gun goes off, everyone shoots off, rain pouring down from above, mud splattering everywhere from below.  The teams go from athletes to muddy monsters in minutes, battling the elements as much as each other. The course becomes unpredictable, a firm bit of trail could now be a muddy sinkhole up to your knee.  There's no stopping, you just keep going til you reach the finish line no matter what.

  Those days may sound miserable, and they were, but they were also the most fun you could have while running.  It was exhilarating, it was messy and it was awesome.

Hanging in Mid-Air

   In his dream Henry noticed a sort of hole hanging in mid-air.  He'd never noticed such a thing in one of his dreams before; it was odd.  The rest of the dream was fairly ordinary, a schoolyard with a playground, trees on the outskirts.  The hole was no bigger than the middle of a dough-nut and it hung there, slightly different than all the air around it.  Henry tried putting both of his index fingers in and pulling: it worked!  The hole began to expand.  Henry continued to pull the hole of dream space apart until it was about the size of an open window.  He looked out of the "window" only to see blue skies, with white here and there.

 "Well if this is a dream, going through this window won't hurt me no matter how hard or far I fall", Henry thought as he then crawled his way through the the different bit of air.

    Henry tumbled through the hole out into the cold air and started to fall.  What he hadn't realized was the hole was a hole in the fabric of the dream itself which in fact led back to reality.  The ground below was in fact very real, luckily Henry's tumbling form was aimed for a sizable mound of snow on the side of a mountain.  A mountain which happened to be part of the Pyrenees. Henry didn't land with a painful "THUD" so much as a softer "WHUMP" as a cloud of untouched white snow exploded snow exploded about him. He lazed dazed in the snow as the sun began to rise on the horizon.

                   ======================

And now here's a song I've really been digging with a pretty cool music video. It probably could have also been shown as a Halloween spooky video, but ah well.

M83
Midnight city

a perfect profile

Half the moon hung in the sky
       a perfect profile
Glowing ever so bright in the night
   I glanced up as I was walking,
So surprised was I, so surprised,
   to see the half-moon wink for me
I gasped, I cried out, I chuckled
  And oh! how I winked back

Happy Halloween!

I know that today isn't actually the 31st of October, so it's not technically Halloween, but here at Ohio University today is Halloween in every way. Out of towners flood our town, friends and party-goers from all parts of the state and country. Our main street is then shut down for most of the duration of the night as costumed party-goers flock to see and be seen. Also to listen to the live music that's put on. Halloween here is never boring, nor is it ever predictable. Cell phones become fairly unreliable due to the amount of concentrated people in one place, so the buddy system becomes a necessity.

    And really its a great time. Halloween here is chaos, its scary, its happy, its wonderful, its being ready for anything. Its thinking of the craziest costume then making that costume reality on a low budget. Last year I was a super hero of my own making (Chair-Man), the year before I was Dr Mcninja from the webcomic Dr McNinja. This year me and a friend are each going to be Nyan Cat as seen here. For those of you who don't wish to click on the link, Nyan Cat is a cat combined with a Pop-Tart with rainbows trailing behind it. I am pumped. Anyway off to finish the costume and get ready, Happy Holidays everyone, be safe!

Halloween Music Season Part II

    Hello again! Time for another spooky video. This one comes from Kid Cudi from the soundtrack to the movie Fright Night that came out a few months ago starring Colin Farrel, Anton Yelchin, and David Tennant. I really actually wanted to see Fright Night because I thought it seemed like a good classical take on a vampire/monster movie and seeing Colin Farrel and David Tennant face off would have been definitely worth seeing. Well hopefully I'll catch it on dvd.

  Kid Cudi
  No One Believes Me

Halloween Music Season

  Here at Muffin Puddles one of my founding goals is to share creative and awesome music videos and music. In the October/Halloween Season that goal has always been shifted to the weird, scary, abnormal but still awesome. I have a few songs to share with you all before Halloween itself hits. Here's one:

Chairlift
Amanaemonesia




I have no idea what the song is about, nor the video but that in no way stops it from being quite dancey and quite strange. Enjoy!

Stay a Little Longer

"Oh, but you simply must try the turkey breast!", Annabelle whined, "It's marvelous!"

 "I apologize, but I'm stuffed Miss, I can have no more." He protested

 Annabelle laughed shrilly, "Stuffed? Stuffed! Ha! You look famished! If you won't have any turkey then at least have a sweet slice of Rum Cake, our family's recipe."

 "Miss, I'm not starved, I'm simply skinny and I really must protest, what I had was wonderful, but now I must be going. I only came to deliver this letter, which you seem ever so reluctant to receive." He said as he stood up, letter proffered by his hand.

 "Do sit back down Arthur." Her voice had lost its mirth and seduction. "Have some potatoes and gravy and I'll see to your letter." She stared at him determinedly until he started to spoon some of the potatoes into his mouth. Satisfied, she slit the letter open and began to read. Arthur ate his mashed potatoes dutifully which were in fact quite delicious. After a few minutes Annabelle set down the letter. "It seems my sister, Daisy Mae, is getting married. I haven't heard a word from her in almost four years and now: married! What a joyous occaision. It even says I am invited...what a strange and joyous occasion Arthurs you simply must stay and celebrate with me. The Rum Cake really is divine."

Generationals
Ten-Twenty-Ten

Blustery Birthday

  Yesterday was my birthday, and it was pretty good. Though mostly full of class and blustery weather it was a good day! My good friend made me a wonderful cake, it had mayonnaise in it instead of oil, which apparently makes for a great substitute: who knew? And the whole weekend will be full of fun quasi-birthday celebratory events. Such events will include an all day swing dance that will include a Lindy-hop workshop tomorrow, a play tonight and seeing comedian Aziz Ansari on Sunday night. Sounds like a good weekend if I ever heard of one, am I right?

    On other notes the album Making Mirrors from Gotye is stupendous and the videos just keep hitting the spot. I will continue to share them. Here's a second serving on Gotye:

Gotye
Easy Way Out

Something about Pumpkins

  "You were mostly mumbling incoherently. Something about pumpkins...or maybe rocket ships.  You kept repeating 'It'll be perfect for my secret evil plan'. " Charles said, "It was amusing, but honestly we were all a little worried, or at least I was."

 Andrea blinked, "Was I that bad? I can't remember much...I was in the park watching all the squirrels dashing to and fro, and the piles of leaves were so high...then I woke up here."

"Huh, well you didn't seem drunk or inebriated, just very, very off.  Like a top that had begun to wobble. I was concerned about you so we took you up here and put you to bed in the spare room. You've slept for close to 36 hours.  Any longer and we were declaring it a coma.  Glad to have you back"

   They hugged and he set a glass of water on the bedside table.  "When you're ready I can make you some grilled cheese or pancakes. Whatever sounds good."

Unsafe Ice

You find yourself on unsafe ice on the same night.  Astray from where you started, lost in the night.  The shadows, they took your hand, led you away out into the darkening dusk.  A Nocturne's gloom, a lunar's light to guide the sight.  You walked and walked, the crisp crunch of ice rung steadily like sneezes built of ivory.  The pines and cedars lined the path; dense and full of secrets in the night.

Tom Thumb

    Staring into a deep well Tom stood sucking thoughtfully at his thumb.  He pondered how far it was to the bottom, he wondered if there was a bottom.  If there was in fact a bottom, were there things living down there? fishes?  Mole men?  Tom very badly wanted there to be something special about the old well so he would have a good story to tell his friend Stephen on Monday at school.

    Tom decided the well needed further investigation so off he wandered home in search of supplies.  he removed his thumb from his mouth since he knew his mother didn't approve and would be quite cross with him if she saw.  As he opened the door his mother greeted him from the kitchen where she was preparing the evening's supper.  Tom shouted a "Hullo!" and explained he was just popping in, but would be back for dinner. From his room Tom filled his backpack with objects from all corners, odds and ends from here and there until he was satisfied that he was prepared for anything and then he set out again for the well.

   Tom was a very adventurous and enterprising ten-year-old, but his mother really had no idea.  She assumed her son had an over-active imagination and he liked to play outside when he wasn't drawing fantastical maps in his room.  On the one hand these things were perfectly true, but it was also perfectly true that Tom had accomplished more in terms of exploration than some adults had twice and three times his age.

  As Tom re-approached the well he extracted a few of the items from his backpack.  these items included a length of durable rope, a pair of gloves with grips and light with an attached headband.  Firtst Tom secured the rope to the well's foundation using a Sailor's knot.  then he slipped the headband light over his forehead and clicked it on.  And finally the gloves were slipped on and the backpack was slipped on for later.

 Grabbing the rope with both gloved hands Tom climbed over the well's ledge and began to rappel himself into the depths.  Down, down, down, he went slowly illuminating the well with his light.  Tom expected to find water soon, yet the water never came.  Tom paused to ponder, with gloved thumb in mouth, how much further the well would go; the rope was running out of slack.

  Tom cast his light straight down and found the bottom to be quite close, he dropped from the rope.  He found himself not in a simple chamber, but in the beginning of a labyrinth. Tunnels spread out in 5 directions, each seemed to go for a fairly decent distance without end.  Tom looked at his watch to find it was nearing supper time, he would have to come back to explore the maze.

Every Morning

     They sat on their front stoop.  He was doing the morning's crossword, she was knitting from a ball of dark blue yarn.  The sun had only begun to peek above the horizon.  They were waiting for her just like every morning.  They didn't know where she came from, Linda worried about it sometimes, but Nathan assured her it didn't matter so long as they were there for there for here at the start of the day.  Nathan checked his watch, it read, "7:15 am" he looked up to see a smiling six-year old girl rounding the block. She shouted out, "Good morning!"

     "Good Morning", they replied as they pulled her in for a hug.

"Where are we going today?", asked the girl

  "The diner on the other side of town, how does that sound?" Linda asked

The girl thought for a second, "Do you think they'll have eggs on toast? and Jelly or Jam?"

Nathan chuckled and said, "I think they just might" then gave the girl a reassuring wink.

    Then the trio piled into Nathan's forest-green 1970's Camaro.  This might have been the girl's favourite part; the way her face lit up as she got into the old car.  And off they went.

Meantime

   This week it seems as if the Indian summer has hit, that fleeting second wave of high temperatures and beautiful skies. Who knows how long it will be here, a few days? A few weeks? Go enjoy some warmth while you can. Go take a bike ride, go take a walk, go lay in the sun and take a nap. Because it will probably be cold tomorrow, or the day after that.  To quote a song I'm about to post, "don't get stuck in the meantime, no such thing as the meantime". Take advantage of the good times, or make your own, do just sit there waiting for something to happen.

Now enjoy some sunny, sunny music from a song that is sure to be stuck in your head for awhile.

Givers
Meantime

October Once Again

Happy October Everyone! I hope its not quite as cold by you. The past 4 days have been frigid, today was slightly better.  But its okay, because its the right weather for hot chocolate and apple cider.  Its time for orange pumpkins, crunchy leaves and a multitude of ghosts once again. Its time for hecticness at school with midterm tests and papers. But everything will be okay because its October.

Future Islands
Long Flight




Also the band above, Future Islands, is coming out with a new album soon, so here's a video from their last album to tide you over 'til then. Also I mentioned them about a year ago here.

Legend of the Lake

  I've lived in small town on one of the Great Lakes almost my whole life.  its a town like any other; there's a library, a town hall, various parks, schools and cookie cutter houses as far as the eye can see.  The Lake, well its not the ocean, but damn, its beautiful.  Especially at sunset when the sun seems to melt into the water like a molten hammer striking a mirrored-glass surface.

   So you might see why I wanted to take a boat out to the middle of the Lake to see the sunset from a prime vantage point. And that's exactly what I did a few weeks ago on a cloudless night.  Packing a small dinner of a roast beef sandwich, a bottle of root beer, some cheese and cracker and a slice of chocolate cake, I set out.

   The wind was moderate, the waves weren't overly churning, it was a fine night...or so it seemed..About 3 miles out from shore I turned the motor off and sat back. "This dinner is going to be savory alongside this sunset", I thought to myself.  The sandwich and root beer slowly disappeared, then the cheese and crackers were gone, leaving only the slice of cake.  The sun was just about on the horizon, as I raised my fork to take a bike of moist chocolate-y goodness, the sun sank into the water. But this time I was part of the event, not merely a spectator, a participant. Beautiful, I smiled enjoying the scene and the cake.

  But the enjoyment only lasted for but a moment.  Suddenly the sky turned black, clouds rapidly drew in from all sides like a flock of black sheep herded madly together.  I cannot convey the extent to which this frightened me.  I tried to get a grip on myself and restart the motor.  I grabbed the choke, but then I became stunned by a ring of lightning first on the shoreline, then encircling my boat. I was paralyzed.

   The waves were getting higher and higher, the dark rain began to come down.  The sky was almost black now, but with each lightning strike it flashed into a different radical colour.  Flash! Blue! Back to dark... Flash! Emerald Green! Back to dark.. this what went on for what seemed like ages. I must have passed out after the sky turned a sort of fuchsia hue.

    I woke up on shore; I suppose I had to have ship wrecked.  My clothes were still damp.  It was some pre-dawn hour, my wrist-watch was gone.  I stood up to find that my legs were shaky.  I then looked down at myself to discover that I was glowing softly.  I marveled at this for a moment, only to hear a voice speaking as if on the other end of a tunnel saying "You will find your way.  Do not despair at what you find before you."

    I reached up and ran my hand through my hair in amazement, ending up twice as amazed at my hair being twice as shaggy as it had been a few hours before: or how long had I been passed out?!  Pushing this thought from my mind I set off down the shore, seeing all sorts of wondrous debris: curtains still on a rod, what seemed to be a large polka-dotted octopus, a tall kitchen table and chairs set together on the beach as if that were their natural home.  Also there was a green baseball bat, three left shoes of varying sizes and colour, and a snorkel with mask and fins.  The strange part was all of these items seemed to be fairly intact, in fact the octopus roused itself and crept back into the ocean as if it had only taken a nap on the beach. I rubbed my eyes.

    I continued up the shore, then climbed the hill away from the beach back up to the rest of town.  I was only hoping to find a little more sanity, sadly that was not in the cards...The boring-cookie-cutter-town I knew so well? It was gone.  Not gone in the sense that a monsoon had come through and wrecked the place, no gone as in it looked as if it had never existed.  But the land wasn't empty, in place of my modern lake-side-suburban town sat a whimsical medieval village.

   Again I rubbed my eyes; pinched myself, nope this was in fact real.  The thatched roofs, the stone walls, lack of pavement, no cars, whoa! people riding horses! This was miles beyond strange, where or when was I?

  "Go to the Pavilion, you will find some clarity there and the beginning of your adventure" the voice in my head said. I seemed to be still glowing mysteriously...hmm odd..."Hey voice! wait, what adventure? Where am I? Who are you?" and of course there was no reply. I decided to head for the pavilion in the middle of town, it was still early in the morning so not many villagers were out yet.  On the floor of the thatched pavilion sat a brown box tied with string.  There was a card on top of the box that said only

                                               "For L"

 Supposing that meant me, I untied the string and opened the box, inside were...green clothes?  A long green cap and a matching tunic with knee high boots.  I realized the clothes I was wearing were thoroughly ruined and the green ones looked like they matched the surroundings better; I put them on.  Strangely or maybe not so strangely they fit almost perfectly and were quite comfortable.  So I guess it was time to figure out what sort of adventure that voice was referring to.


        ==============================

Thanks for reading, I haven't written part two yet, but you might enjoy my story "Into the Tall Grass" if you liked this one. 

Not Quite Right

         We walked into the bar on that Friday night, to find the band playing "Benny and the Jets" like a funeral dirge. I went to to get our drinks while the somber beat went on: Ben (Thump-Thump) Ben (Thump-Thump) - Nee and (Thump) the (Thump) Jets (Thump-Thump), then the accordion cut in, winding endlessly. It was spooky and slightly spine-chilling. I ordered then said to the bartender, "Cheery affair tonight, eh?"
 
        "Yeah they've been doing the same all night. they walked in and announced they were doing covers tonight. Though I don't think anyone was expecting this." He finished pulling the beers and handed them to me. I thanked him and started to walk away when he said, "Oh, one more thing, don't look them in the eye tonight, something just ain't right in the air."

Looking for You

  You never came back, but I never stopped looking for you.  In crowds I'd scan through the faces to see if you might be there.  At the park I would look up ahead thinking you'd be there, just around the corner walking your dog like back then. Especially at airports, before long trips I'd look to see you departing or arriving with your lurid yellow suitcase...that suitcase that never left your side..

  No, I never stopped searching, even when months and years had gone by. Still I scanned and looked, always hopeful, even when I started to forget your face.  It only ended when your ghost showed up at my door one night.

                                --------------------------

Gotye
Somebody That I Used to Know
 

Tangent Control

When I'm writing its so much easier for me to organize my thoughts. When I'm speaking out loud I fall down into tangents endlessly. Telling a story on paper? Coherent.. Face to face? I might lose you halfway through trying to fill you in on things that I think might be important to the overall story but in actuality are not.

  So what's the solution? I don't know...I suppose try to get more to the point. Keep things succinct instead of winding and winding around, losing people in the labyrinth of my words.  I guess I need to think just a little bit more before I open my mouth instead of always winging it. Sometimes it seems like my mouth has a mind of its own, and I need to tame it.

Matt Pond PA

How bout some music? I bet you'd all like some. Here's some Matt Pond PA this is..maybe the third time I've posted them on here? Use the ole' search bar to find the other times! This song has been one of my favourites over the past year or so, I hope you all enjoy.

Matt Pond PA
Remains

In the Middle of the Night

    James Peter awoke in the middle of the night to find that he was crying. He was crying and he had no idea, no hint as to why that might be. He lay in the dark trying to remember any part of his dream that could be a clue, but the memory of his dream was fast receding into wisps of nothing. James clicked on his bedside lamp, grabbed a tissue and dried his face and eyes.  He looked at his digital clock to see it softly glowing green to tell him it was 3:08am. Deciding there wasn't much chance of falling immediately back to sleep, James Peter swung his legs out of the bed, his feet slipping into his slippers.

        He padded off towards the kitchen to make himself some hot cocoa, and why not  from scratch? James stopped only on his journey to the kitchen when his cat, Mr. Druthers, nuzzled his leg then mewed, as if to say, "Is everything okay?"

              "I think so", James Peter said to the cat and scratched behind his ears.  In the kitchen a pot of milk was put on the stove to boil and a saucer was set out for Mr. Druthers. The milk started to boil and the cocoa powder was spooned in.  A sweet aroma filled the air.  A chocolatey aroma which made James Peter realize that he hadn't had a proper hot cocoa since he had been a boy.  With that a wave of nostalgia hit James Peter; he remembered sipping from a large mug of hot cocoa, sitting by the fire with his siblings while his father told them all stories.  He smiled and one more tear rolled gently down his cheek.  James Peter was almost certain the memory of his childhood is what he had been dreaming about. He drank his hot cocoa at the table while Mr. Druthers lapped up his milk. With a warm feeling in his stomach and piece of mind James Peter set off back to bed with a content Mr. Druthers in tow.

On a Hillside

            On a hillside, in the Summer sun, lay a girl, but not just any girl, an exceptionally world -weary girl named Samantha Curnswallop. After each breath she inhaled there followed a tremendous sigh as if the act of breathing or perhaps lying in the sun was a horrible burden evilly put upon her shoulders to carry.  This wasn't too far from the truth as Samantha's mother had practically banished her from the house saying, "Honey, why don't you go spend some time outside? Its beautiful out! And why don't you leave your cellphone here? Enjoy nature for a bit!"

    Samantha had stood aghast at the "no cellphone" part of the command. She knew her mother was serious, but what had she done to deserve the butt of such malice? Such utter hatred? Samantha trudged out the back door and into the sunlight.  Each stomped footfall was a plea for sympathy from some higher power, or anyone really! And now Samantha lay on the hillside feeling utterly betrayed and ostracized and not enjoying the sunlight whatsoever.  What was the point, really, when she had no way of keeping her friends updated as to what she was doing. Meanwhile up above the clouds drifted by with a certain laziness that Samantha herself would envy and try to emulate in a few years time, but not today, no not yet. Today was for sighing, not for enjoying. Little did she know the day was soon to turn around...

Save the World

Alexander stood at the city's main plaza. He looked out upon all the people milling about on a Saturday afternoon and proclaimed, "I am going to save the world!"

A bum sitting against a building near Alexander looked up to him and said, "What if the world doesn't want to be saved?"

Alexander looked startled for a moment, then asked, "Does the world get a choice in the matter?"

The bum smirked, "We all get a choice." He then passed out against the building.

The Argument

"Who started it? what the hell is this about?" He demanded as if we were lowly criminals in one of his cases, while using his arms to push us apart. At some point during the argument we had gotten to be nose to nose; spittle flying directly from one face to land on the opposing one. What were we even arguing about? I can't even remem- oh! right! Jeffry had borrowed my car for the seemingly millionth time and frankly that was the last straw, there had been tension floating between us like thunder clouds for months and finally the storm came. No punches were thrown, but some extremely unkind words were exchanged that night, stabbing at each other with remarks as only siblings can.

So by the time Father arrived, I'm not sure either of us was even arguing or insulting coherently anymore, throwing such novelties at one another like, "You're a cockatoo's son!" or "You're a dirty pineapple-eater who sleeps in mud!" and "You like blueberries!". You see, completely nonsensical. Well, except for the last one which is true, I do love blueberries, I hadn't realized this could remotely be thought to be a point of contention though.

Father had bodily separated us and was looking back and forth between us, searching for some clue to how we had ended up in such a situation. To illustrate his confusion he said, "You know, I'm quite baffled by this whole thing. A) This isn't how I raised you both. B) You're as close as borthers can be, you never quarrel! and C) if neither of you says one word to shed some light or at least apologizes, then I'm taking you both in the squad can and throwing you in adjoining cells."

We didn't say anything, just sullenly stared. I don't think we believed he'd do it, he was our own father and that sounded a bit over the line in parenting. We called his bluff and steeped ourselves in our own anger.

"Well, at least neither of you are snitches I suppose." and then he frog-marched us into the car. Next thing I knew I was sitting in a cell on a cold, worn cot. I really didn't believe he'd do it.

Most Sensational

This has been quite a productive summer writing/blogging wise, this entry marks my 200th post in this blog! I am a little proud of myself. Thank you to anyone who's been reading. This summer has been good in general, relaxing, very chill. And also there has been buzz lately about Muppets. So I will add to the buzz:

Ok Go (Feat the muppets)
Muppet Show Theme Song



Happy 200th post!

Not Shaggy Not Scooby

"Hey! Listen!", Her voice was emphatic as the air was cold, "This isn't some show like 'Scooby-Doo', You aren't Shaggy, I'm not Velma and together we sure as heck aren't the effing Myserty Inc Team! This is real life Daniel!"

I breathed out slowly, watching as my breath turned to mist in the November air. I was staring off into the distance quietly, imperceptibly shaking.

She poked me, "Are you even listening?"

I heard myself respond with a much calmer tone than I actually felt, "Yes, Emily, I hear you...this is real life, and I'm scared. Our friends are gone, disappeared without a trace, we can't just go home. I'm pretty sure they're not dead, at least I hope so. I think we should at least make an effort to look for them, don't you?"

She looked at me, her tone softened into something that resembled my best friend, "I guess you're right, how bout we get started searching in the morning after we get some rest in the car, okay? Shit! You're shaking! Why didn't you say something?!"

She quickly unzipped her coat, I embraced her and she enveloped me in the down-jacket. We stayed like that for awhile, the shaking subsided so we climbed into the car. It was an old rusty station wagon that didn't retain heat very well but we laid in the back, cocooned in layers of blankets, sweat shirts and Emily's warm jacket. We passed out before we knew it.

Hours later I was awoken by a steady whirring, it sounded ominous. Poking my head out of the cocoon I saw a faint light piercing the inky blackness of the night. A clue, perhaps?

One Step

All it takes is one step to start in a new direction, to see a new reflection. One step and they might just follow in your lead. One step to find out where you're going. One step to find out who you'll be. One step to get started, keep the feet flowing each new step is just one more added. Don't feel the combined weight of them all. Just one foot in front of the other, one in front of the other, you might just be surprised where you end up. Don't be afraid, there's always another direction to take if this one gets dark.

The first step is always the hardest, its so much easier to stand still. But all it takes is one step to start, just one. Then you'll be gone in a new direction.

Those Yellow Eyes

You remember them well, those yellow eyes that followed you into the dark. But you were not scared, no, no. You knew everything would be alright. Even when you heard the snarls and snuffs, growls to make hair stand on end; no you weren't scared. It was so dark that night, apart from those yellow glowing eyes. The air was warm thick and humid. You emerged from the darkness to find yourself beside a lake that was still as glass.

And beside you appeared those yellow eyes, but they were not alone. They were followed by a majestic yet mangy beast. If it was a wolf it had the maw of a shark, if it was a bear it had the floppy ears of a rabbit, if it was a cougar it had the antlers of a stag. It was a nightmare. It was nature itself. But you weren't scared, not one bit. You just looked right into those yellow eyes and saw everything. The beast disappeared leaving you alone with the lake. In you dove, swam down through the depths, feeling the water all around. Everything was okay.

Man in Museum

Jasmine walked into the art museum, she was looking to quietly waste her Wednesday afternoon off. She took a few steps toward the kiosk to buy a ticket for the exhibit when something caught her eye: a man sitting on a bench by himself in her periphery. Jasmine turned to get a better look, he was a small man wearing round glasses, he had bushy white eyebrows with a matching moustache, wispy hair but mostly bald on top. The man was clutching a briefcase to his chest. He looked slightly anxious as if he was waiting for something or someone, and he looked a bit nervous too; on of his well polished shoes was tapping rhythmically on the ground.

The shoe went- Tap-pause-pause-tap-tap-pause-tap

The man looked if nothing else: interesting. Jasmine decided to go over and talk to him. She walked over and plopped down next to him, crossing one leg over the other.

"You weren't saving this bit of bench, were you?" she asks

The man seems a bit startled, both of his feet come off the ground in surprise. he opens his mouth once, closes it, takes in the situation and says, "No, no, you're just fine there..." and his foot goes back to its rhythm

tap-pause-pause-tap-tap-pause-tap-pause-pause

Not thrown off at all by the lack of greeting Jasmine smiles, unclasps her bag and takes out a book of crosswords and a pen. She spends a few moments scribbling in answers here and there and chewing on the end of her pen in thought.

"My name's Jasmine, would you happen to know a 6-letter word for travel bag?"

After an extra two pauses in the tapping the man closes his eyes for a moment and replies, "Duffle"

"Ahhh yes! Thank you!" writing the word into the blanks.

The tapping continues at its normal pace as Jasmine surveys her puzzle's clues, thinking of answers. This goes on for several minutes until the man decides it is his turn to break the silence, "I'd like to introduce myself, my name is Stanley. I'm waiting for someone..someone who needs this briefcase."

"Quite nice to make your acquiantance Stanley!"

Every once in awhile the art museum's PA system comes on with a short announcement like, "The Picasso exhibit will be open at 2 pm purchase your tickets from the kiosk."

Jasmine turns to Stanley asking, "Do you think you're friend is coming soon for the briefcase?"

Stanley's foot keeps tapping its rhythm as he ponders, "Hmmm... I'm not exactly sure actually."

Jasmine frowned, what an unreliable person to not even say when they were coming. She decides she'll sit with him until the briefcase's recipient arrives.

Minutes pass by, people come and go, a half hour goes by, then forty-five minutes. At half past two the tapping ceases. Stanley stands, straightens his pants and jacket out, then picks up the briefcase and turns to Jasmine, "I think you might be the one I was waiting for. Will you take it?"

Jasmine nods before she lets herself have a chance to protest. Stanley beams and hands her the briefcase with both hands. He says to her, "Thank you for spending some time with me, I think you'll know what to do with what's in the briefcase." Then he strides off into the Picasso exhibit leaving Jasmine completely baffled.

The North West

We arrived back home into a thunderstorm this morning at 6 am. The rain continued til about now at almost 6 pm. But the trip itself? Awesome. Our trip to the North West consisted of one jovial waiter, two magical cities, a multitude of hikes, a range of west coast mountains, a temperate rain forest, a bicycling tour, a four story book store, a world famous market with fish tossers, clam chowder and more. It was nothing if it wasn't full of adventure. Is a vacation a destination or an experience? A state of mind? or A sense of adventure? Whichever way you define it, I had an absolutely great time.

And to celebrate my return home and a great vacation, how bout some music? I'm a bit late to the game with this song, but its pretty infectious so I thought I would share:

Foster the People
Pumped up Kicks

Happy 3rd Anniversary

Yesterday was the third anniversary of my blog! I'm on vacation in the North West, so not a lot of time to post anything too long right now, but I will talk all about it when I get back. Until then, I hope you all are having a wonderful time doing whatever it is you do.

Sailing on

They called me The Captain, well I suppose that's still who I am. Still I pilot this ship, but there are no men to crew it. The crew has been asleep below deck for the better part of a decade; a damn witch's curse! Witches, they are evil blasted things, how we even angered her, I still can't quite figure nor why she left me awake. And I 'ave no prince or princess to kiss them all awake, nor do I even know if that would cure it. They all sleep peacefully, seemingly perfectly content to continue their slumber. Leaving me to take care of them; make sure they're all tucked in tight when the storms get violent and keep the ship sailing. Its lonely and not all at the same time.

I've been on the seas all this time, seen every ocean, all the continents discovered and not, strings of islands and things you've never heard of. Frankly I don't even know rightly where we are anymore. The stars are all foreign, which is saying something for a seaman who know star charts better than the back of his hands. Some days I can swear I see the humps of sea monsters in the distance moving through the water like living islands. The sea itself seems to be a different hue entirely, not the dark blue that is so familiar, but rather a sort of an emerald like colour. Still I sail on, I 'aven't stopped once, I don't know what I'm looking for, but I'll know when I find it. I know that much for sure. Until then I will keep sailing on...sailing on..

At the Heart of it All

At the heart of it all, when you broke it down, he was infatuated by infatuation. In other words he loved being in love. From the tender foolish moments to the knock-down drag-out fights; he loved it all. The hand-holding, the kissing, the candle-lit dinners...the shouting after candle lit dinners when something hadn't been cooked quite right; all of it. Even the eventual breakups. Yes, they ripped his heart to shreds, for what a tragedy it was when love itself dissolved, but in each break-up he saw the hop of a new beginning.

His friends were worried about him, from the outside it looked as if he were an addict, searching for fixes in romantic comedies and new relationships. They all shouted at him, "You're wrong! Its not all beautiful!"

He just smiled back, he knew the truth.

Stories from Northern Wisconsin (Pt 2)

At some point or another I bet you've seen a hummingbird, perhaps not in real life, maybe in a picture. The point is that you know what they are and that they move at ridiculously fast speeds. The majestic birds come in every color, brown, green, blue, silver. Some people are under the myth that these birds are not able to ever stop moving their little wings, this I have found to be false. While they seem to not sit in any given place for a long period of time, hummingbirds are perfectly capable of sitting completely still. If they're wings were to stay in motion perpetually, then whenever you went outside you would be forced to ask yourself, "when are the distant helicopters going to arrive?". Because that is exactly what they sound like, or extremely loud bumblebees; this is probably where they get the "Humming" part of their name.

The other notion about Hummingbirds is that they are peaceful, serene, wise creatures. This I'm not too sure about either. When we stay at our cabin, we leave out a Hummingbird feeder. My mom makes up a sugar water concoction that is lapped us like a sweet sweet nectar. But once they've had a taste, well the miniature helicopters get territorial. They viciously guard the feeder from each other, swooping up and down, while making high pitched tweets. As I laid in the hammock outside I had a front row seat to the warring Hummingbird factions. Little bomber jets whirring screeching at each other, guarding what each felt was rightly theirs.

Oh Thunder Road

Brad stood in the service plaza gazing at the brochures by the information stand. Most of the pamphlets were the normal fair, advertising local tourist spots or national parks or even "World's largest Ball of String 2 miles east". But one pamphlet caught Brad's eye, it advertised "Thunder-storm travel - Get to your destination in a fraction of the time!", Brad took the pamphlet and started flipping through it. It sounded odd, like a joke or something from a sci-fi novel, but too earnest to be either.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Brad said to get the attention of the information stand's attendant.

The attendant turned around and responded cheerily, "Yes, how may I help you?"

"Can you tell me more about this 'Thunder-Storm Travel' thing? I'm still not quite sure what it is exactly.."

The Attendant smiled as if he'd been waiting all day for this request, "Ahh, yes, Thunder-Storm Travel! Its new! And quite easy to use. If you sign up, which you can do right here, then you get a small beacon which you simply put in your front or back windshield, doesn't really matter which. Then a sort of electro-magnetic current is charged from your car straight up to the troposphere where it signals a group of nan-bots. These nano-bots then group together any extra clouds flying around and Voíla! a storm is born! Then using that same electro-magnetic pulse, the storm clouds do a sort of push/pull with your car, just like opposing magnets in grade school! This allows you to get there in half the time!"

Brad stood with his mouth agape, he then closed it and nodded a bit as if he understood everything that was just said. He tried to act non-chalant, "Well, is it safe?"

The attendant smiled brightly, "Sure! Safe as can be! So long as you can keep your wits about you in a storm. And you save on gas!"

"Well, sounds too good to be true, but I guess I'll give it a try", handing over his credit card.

A few minutes later Brad walked to his car feeling quite like Jack after buying the magical beans. He applied the beacon to his front windshield, put the key in and started the ignition, Brad laughed when nothing immediately happened, then as he put the car into reverse, he heard it: the distinct crack of thunder.

No Endings

There are no real "endings". Not like a movie when the hero smiles and the credits roll. Or in a book when you get to the last page and that's it. No in life its never that tidy. Instead, one thing comes to a close and maybe there's a brief respite, but then something else starts. Or maybe that other thing had started while the first thing was going on, maybe there's some overlap. But in the end there's a just a little overlap. But in the end there's just little moments, a smile here, a bad grade there, a kiss, a disappointment. Little ups and little downs.

Maybe you're working on a project, have been for a long time now, you finish it and its like a load off you're shoulders. But in a short while there's gonna be another project, another paper, another commitment. It never really stops. So what am I saying? Enjoy the little things, the little endings; those few blissful ours in the sun, but don't curse the rain when it comes too.

The Decemberists

Tomorrow my family and I are going to see The Decemberists, it will be my fourth time seeing them and I would say I'm almost as excited as I was the first time. They put on fantastical live shows full of energy and theatricality. At their past shows I have experienced getting eaten by a giant whale, participated in mid-show calisthenics, danced with a variety of drunk people, fought a WW I skirmish with half the band in the crowd leading us, and generally sung along to songs at the top of my lungs.

It is always a good time. This time it will be at an outdoor venue in Cleveland, past venues have included Columbus, Louisville, Kentucky and Cleveland once again. And finally before I sign off for the night, here's their song celebrating July!

The Decemberists
July, July

Stories from Northern Wisconsin

Sun Bathing in the Rain

Me and my dad had taken a kayak ride around the lake. Halfway out I could hear loud rumbles of thunder. Its never good to be out on the water during a storm, so I paddled hard for shore, my dad following. We got back, flipped the kayaks to keep the insides dry and got the scared dog safely in the cabin. The only problem was that it was still twice as hot in the cabin. So out again we all went to the pier, sprawled out waiting for the rain to come.

And it did come, but slowly; pew - a drop here, pew - a drop there. And we laid there cooling off as the rain came to greet us. Eventually it picked up to a pour, so we rain back into the cabin laughing.

Psychic Sally

Sally was psychic, she could guess all of her friends' favourite colours before they said them. Everyone thought this was pretty neat, well except for Carl who thought she was simply a good guesser. He thought of a challenge for her.

Carl got in front of the whole group and said, "Favourite colours are fine, but if you're really psychic then tell me what I want to be when I grow up!"

Everyone Ooo'd and Ahh'd as no one knew Carl's ambition, he kept it a closely guarded secret. Perhaps he was afraid that if he told the world, his wish wouldn't come true.

"This will take a minute or two", Sally said as she closed her eyes and sat down cross-legged in the field.

The wind blew across the field and Sally listened. The sun beat down and Sally soaked in its slow, hot pulse. The grass, it whispered to her, she noted each and every word that passed from the green blades. She sat meditating this way for several moments, the other children sat a little ways off, rapt with anticipation: would she be able to do it? Had she fallen asleep? It was near nap time after all...

Just as the other children were about to give up hope Sally opened her eyes. She smiled sadly, looking years beyond her age. She turned to Carl, "Are you sure you want me to tell them?"

Carl was momentarily shaken by the quiet look of confidence in Sally's eyes, but he shook the fear off and replied defiantly, "Go ahead, there's no way you could know just from sitting there!"

Sally frowned then turned to the group, "Is everyone ready?" They all nodded, so she began. "The reason we don't all know what Carl wants to do when he grows up is that he doesn't know. Well that's not quite right. Today he's 100% sure he wants to be an Astronaut, sailing above the clouds, exploring new planets and galaxies. But yesterday he was just as sure he wanted to be a Plumber, keeping houses safe from leaks. And next Thursday he might want to design Wind-mills. Its not that he doesn't know, but rather that he wants to do everything there is to do...he hasn't told anyone because he thought we'd all make fun of him. I'm sorry Carl."

But Carl didn't look angry, he looked just as amazed as the other kids. "Yes, that's right." he admitted shyly.

The Children all gasped, they Ooo'd and Ahh'd again. They all said together, "But Carl! that's the coolest ambition of all!"

Carl smiled bigger than he ever had before, then he hugged Sally and whispered, "Now I believe you"

Back from Vacation

I was on vacation in Northern Wisconsin for the past week. I'm back now, very tired but with a multitude of things that I wrote whilst away.

In the sky

She turned to him, "But, how real is it?"

He laughed and squinted at her, "How real is it? How real is anything?" then he trotted off still laughing a little bit.

She stood gazing up trying to find the wires holding up all the flying people in the sky.

Do Not Waste the Day

Friends, do not waste away the day. No matter how badly it has treated you, each day is only 24 hours long, try make the most of it. Don't sleep it all away. Do something fun, productive or otherwise. Make someone smile. Please don't give up before the time is out. Work is hard and you might be tired, but fight it, I know you can. I'll be here...I'll be here. There's time left, don't give up yet. You're tired, yeah, but give a little more. I'll be here, I will.

Take a walk, look at the stars shine in the night's sky. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay. Swim until you cannot move any longer. Bike until your legs are sore. Move until your body is wobbily. Close your eyes, let the world settle around you. Stay until the sunsets on the horizon, colours bleeding together. Grass beneath your toes in the summer night, let it go, let it all the stress go. Find the the bit of light from the sparkles that are the lightning bugs. Let your heart soar, let it fly.

We spend the day riding out the waves of time, but don't get caught up with the future so much that you forget about the present. It will all get done, it always does. And if I'm wrong, and it doesn't, well then it doesn't. There's always tomorrow, just do what you can today - nothing more, nothing less. Read a little, walk a little, drink a little, watch a little. That's all I ask.

Fireworks

This thing about good fireworks is that like great fiction, there needs to be a suspension of disbelief. You stop questioning what's happening and instead soak it in and enjoy it. All thoughts stop, instead replaced by a sense of awe. You're drawn in.

That's what it was like last night at the fourth of July Fireworks display in the town next to us. I sat there thinking about how it was just going to be the same as always. The first few went off and before I knew it, well I wasn't thinking much at all, just entranced by the bright lights in the night sky. Boom, Boom, Boom! Colours painting vividly on a black canvas. Close to magic.

And its that suspension of disbelief, that immersion into entertainment, that is when you know its something great. You're brain turns off, stops being skeptical of everything and just enjoys the ride. This goes for films, books, video games, music, plays.

Then perhaps, and this is a big perhaps, the greatest form of art or entertainment is then a dream. Well a non-lucid dream anyway, but from start to finish in a dream your disbelief is completely suspended. Usually it is not until waking that you have the revelation that oh! that was all a dream! just a thought..

Winery Tastings

They each held a glass of wine in their respective hands. His was a Merlot, Hers a Chardonnay. They were each well dressed, He: a white button up shirt with a thin black tie, her a fine black dress with discrete blue polka dots and black heels. It was an outdoor winery in Northern California, the grounds were full of well dressed people milling around stiffly.

She, her name was Christine, turned to him and said, "This is all a bit dull, isn't it?" she raised one eyebrow expectantly.

He, his name was David, nodded and said, "Yes why don't we blow this popsicle stand?"

They clinked their glasses together, downed what was left and started to head out. As they meandered through the crowd, like lions among gazelles, She pocketed as many tapas wrapped in napkins as She could while He grabbed 2 more glasses of wine for them.

"Tiny Ham and Mustard sandwiches?" She asked.

"Ohh, yes! as many as you can carry!" He replied.

After downing the wine and with pocketed snacks stowed, they ran hand-in-hand down the sloping hills that surrounded the winery. Eventually they collapsed upon each other laughing, panting, out of breath.

"Y'know, what's the point of these things? So many people come, yet no one looks like they're having any fun!" She exclaimed.

He laughed, "Well, maybe they don't know how to have fun, so they pretend as best they can?"

They both laughed, and rolled across the lawn, having the time of their lives.

Party

You want all your best friends to come to the parties you're going to, but sometimes they just cannot. So you go, because you said you would or you need to go out or else you'll go crazy. So you make new friends at the party, replacement ones since your usual ones couldn't make it. And you end up liking these people, they make you smile, you make them laugh. You promise you'll remember their names, their faces, hobbies, pets, etc. But the daylight hits like an explosion and you've forgottten all the details from the night before. You wave and smile, but run across the street as if late to avoid embarassing yourself.

Or then again maybe it all turns out different. A wondrous caper pulled off at the party or after, phone numbers exchanged. In the morning a new group of friends, including you meeting at the diner for breakfast at the crack of noon - and not a second before. Smiles on all faces.

Wandering Elephants

"Now tell me about this, hmmm, elephant", the psychiatrist said. His patient lay upon a clichéd Freudian couch looking dogged and anxious.

"Its been about a week now", the man started, "Every night at eleven-oh-two I hear a series of loud thumps. I go check to find the back door ajar."

"Mhmm..Do you have a habit of forgetfully leaving the door open?" interrupted the psychiatrist.

The patient turned his head, he looked desperate, eyes wide: "No! just the opposite in fact, I triple check my doors to the house every night, front and back...but, not only is it extremely peculiar that the door is left open, its not the usual small blue door that leads to my backyard. Instead its much much larger, engorged somehow."

"Is there any possibility you are sleepwalking into a completely different house entirely?" wondered the Doctor.

No, no, you see...I thought of that, but I checked and all of my possesions are still in the house, pictures still on the wall in their frames, fish in their tank. Everything is as it should be, well except the backdoor is at least twice its usual size and open"

The psychiatrist nodded thoughtfully, "A dream perhaps?"

"Well, maybe, I'm unsure, I honestly can't tell anymore. Oh! I haven't even gotten to the craziest part yet. So the door is open and in lumbers a big gray elephant. Just walks straight in as if he owns the place! He doesn't even seem to noticeme at all, just walks in, opens the cabinent, pulls out a large bag of stadium peanuts I didn't realize I owned and using his trunk he begins to pluck them out and plop them into his mouth. He finishes half the bag, replaces it where he found it, neatly closes the door behind himself and lumbers off. What do you make of it, Doc?"

"Odd indeed, hmmm. The Doctor mused for a moment, then dug around in his desk. He pulled out a newspaper read for a minute, then said "Have you seen The Sentinel lately?"

The man on the couch shook his head.

"Here, check out page 3"

In bold letters there was an advertisement that read:

Circus Arrives! Come see our Smarter than Average Elephant!

Show Me the Light

I'm a bit worn out, but that's just from work..I think. Today is the last day of June, can you believe it? It went by fast, but at the same time wow a lot got crammed in, I mean I was still in school at the beginning of it! Anywho enjoy some music:

Mystery Jets
Show Me the Light



See you all in July!

Arizona Skies

Renaldo walked next to the highway, kicking dirt up into the dry air. He held his head high, a look of utter frustration and a touch of desperation across his face. It was hot enough under the Arizona sun to cook an egg outside, Renaldo had only been walking for a few moments but already he was sweating profusely. The sweat and dust from the dirt were mixing together, caking on his skin in patches.

His blue eyes stared at the sky asking, "Why? why? why?". He had walked out here in the morning, excited with hope. Hope that had been crushed, smashed into a sizeable cube like a trash compactor. Overhead a vulture circled almost mockingly. It just wasn't fair! She had smiled and laugh so enchantingly a few days ago... he had thought for sure she'd say say yes, but...but... she hadn't..

Part of Renaldo wanted the vulture up in the sky to come down and eat him, though he knew that wouldn't solve anything. No sooner had the thought of the thought of the vulture crossed his mind, the great bird swooped down, plummeted and landed at Renaldo's feet.

"You have need of me, good sir?" The vulture inquired regally.

Renaldo, taken aback, stood silently for a moment or two. He looked back up to the sky to see if the sun was still there as well, indeed it was. "I'm really just a bit sad and frustrated at life right now, I don't really want to be eaten".

"Ahh, that's all right, you don't really look that appetizing anyhow. Anything I can give you advice with? or I could always circle menacingly over someone for awhile for you, that's always fun.."

Renaldo laughed, though he wasn't sure if the vulture was joking or not.

"C'mon," the vulture said encouragingly, "tell me about life's frustrations. I've seen more of life and death than you can imagine and anyway its not like I've got anything else to do today."

Renaldo looked at the vulture in the eye, decided he looked sincere or Renaldo was going mad. He chuckled again, shrugged his shoulders and began to tell his story. He told the vulture how he had know Maria since they were both little, that they used to go on all sorts of adventures together, climbing trees, running through the canyon together, getting in trouble together. Then growing apart in middle school. ("Middle school is a hard time", the vulture agreed knowingly), reconnecting junior year in High School, hatching that plan for the ultimate prank of releasing a few dozen flying lizards into the school... Then a month ago Maria had broken up with her boyfriend and this morning Renaldo had worked up enough courage to walk down the highway that connected their houses together and ask her out. She had said no, explained how she didn't want to ruin their friendship, told him she was sorry. Then he had walked out the screen door and back down the highway and here he was.

The vulture looked at Renaldo with his other eye, turning his head, cleared his throat, "That there is a sad story indeed, but you don't get friends like her everyday. Remember that. I'd say give her some time. She'll either come around or you'll be ready to be friends again by then. But now I think its time for me to take back to the skies. I'll be around if you ever want to talk. Thanks for the story!" The great black bird flapped his wings once and took off back into the sky.

Renaldo had an odd smile on his face and if he thought about it, he was less frustrated at life than he had been.

"Oh also! For future reference, I like mice!" The vulture shouted as he ascended into the blue sky.

Renaldo laughed for a third time that afternoon.

Summer Solstice Party (Round III)

This past Saturday was busy. I mowed part of the lawn, we went to a city wide garage sale in the town over from us, then went to an art/street fair in Cleveland. At the Art/street fair I got to experience a rock-n-roll flea market which was rad. But wait there's more! After going out to eat we went to the annual Summer Solstice party at the Cleveland Art Museum (past mentions of this can be found here and here). This year they served tacos and little Chines carry-out boxes of noodles and vegetables (chicken optional).

When we first arrived there was a punk-marching band playing, they were pretty crazy! then there were two DJ's, the first had a few hula-hoopers on raised podiums performing, the second DJ had more hip hop style dancers.

For the duration of the night the exhibits were completely open and full of people. One of the the exhibits that was open included a new exhibit with work from Asia(I didn't get a chance to check it out sadly). Did I get yelled at for touching an Andy Warhol piece? Yes, yes I did. Was it squishy and soft? Yes, Yes it was.

All in all it was a wholly fun day and night, I can't wait to see what they have in store for next year. Now for a touch of summery music:

The Shins
Australia

Toe-to-Toe

She said, "I think we could go toe-to-toe"

I laughed, "Baby, you ain't got toes, cuz you're a llama"

Quite insulted, she spit in my eye, I apologized then led her to the field. The sun was starting to set. I nodded to the farmer and he started to fiddle. Some birds added their voices and we had a song.

We danced all night, we danced the Rumba, the Tango, the Charleston. You named it, we probably danced it, and boy could she dance! phew! when the music finally stopped, we both smiled and bowed to each other. The rest of the people and animals hooted and hollered, clapped and wolf-whistled: what a show they exclaimed!

We bowed again. I turned to the llama and said, "Now baby, maybe you don't have toes, but baby you sure do have rhythm!" I tipped my hat to her and ambled down the road, whistling, with half a smile on my face.

That was the day Fred Astaire went toe-to-toe with a llama, her name was Genevieve.

Wake and Be Fine

Ever have a night where you struggle to sleep, then find yourself trapped in a crazy or terrifying dream? if only you could wake up, but it took all that work to fall asleep in the first place...and then you wake up and the world is fine, but you go back to sleep and things only get crazier..sometimes that happens..but just remember that if when you wake up it will be fine.

Okkervil River
Wake and Be Fine

Rustling

Rustling through the crisp leaves, Lisa kicked herself a path as she walked to school. It was a brisk Tuesday morning in October. Crunch, Crunch went the dead leaves as Lisa kicked and stomped. She had a smile on her face, after all not much brings instant joy faster than crunching a crunchy leaf underfoot. Stomp-stomp, crunch-crunch, she went.

It was lucky about the leaves, Lisa had woken up in quite the rotten mood. She had missed her bus by 10 minutes, both of her parents hurriedly rushed out the door as she ate, saying how they were so busy at work and couldn't afford to be late themselves. On top of that she had completely forgotten about the project she had due today. Crunch-crunch, stomp-stomp, Lisa again smiled mischievously; at at least she could control something.

And so Lisa trod on, crunching all the way as the sun slowly made its ascent into the sky. There was a bit of movement, very small movement in fact, to Lisa's right. She stopped and turned - there on a nearby young tree was a caterpillar's cocoon. It was shaking back and forth, the butterfly inside was trying to emerge. Lisa's mouth gaped in awe: this wasn't something you saw every day. She stood in conflict for a moment, if she stayed to watch she would end up being even more tardy to school. On the other hand, she was already late so what difference would it make?

Opening her knapsack, she removed a blue notebook and a pen. With a little quick thinking, note-taking and sketching she might be able to pull off a quick science project after all. It took several minutes of waiting as the cocoon rocked gently, then a bit more violently, finally a crack emerging. Lisa took note of everything, especially when the wings emerged: they were a beautiful mosaic of blues, purples, and greens, well with maybe just a hint of pink at the tips. The butterfly flapped its wings once to test them. Then took off with a flutter, ambling across the sky.

Lisa smiled, maybe today wouldn't be so bad after all, and on she went: crunch-crunch, stomp-stomp, crunch-crunch.

You Are a Tourist

Today was the longest day of the year, and the official beginning of summer. I spent it with friends from college, relaxing, having a good time. We explored my one friend's hometown, I really liked it, from the waterfalls, to the bookstore to the centuries old gazebo.

I think really the problem is that we lose a bit of the wonder about our surroundings the longer we live in them, we forget that there's a lot of cool things there to see. There's always something else to explore, so keep going, there's more out there! Behind the hedge, over that bridge, around the turn.

Death Cab For Cutie
You Are a Tourist



the music video was shot in one take live for youtube

Laughing out Loud

Leslie was laughing quite unselfconsciously, head tilted back, tears streaming from her eyes. She was sitting in the middle of a large lecture hall. Most of the other students turned to see what the commotion was, the looks on their faces ranged from startled to curious to slightly pissed off. The ones who were curious had a right to be, not a joke had been uttered, certainly not by the professor who was famous for not diverging one iota from the subject material. The last thing he had said was an explanation of reverse osmosis; interesting? well at times, but hilarious? not by any means. The people closest to her shrugged at the rest of the class, they held no clue as to the joke anymore than the rest of the auditorium.

After several moments Leslie calmed down, regained her composure by removing her glasses and wiping her eyes. She then returned the spectacles to her face, picked up her mechanical pencil and scribbled down the last thing the professor had said about reverse osmosis before she had started laughing. The rest of the class was was thoroughly bemused, collectively shaking their heads in bewilderment. They too set back to taking notes.

No one noticed the smile that was still playing across Leslie's lips. Nor for that matter did anyone notice the tiny leprechaun who was still doing cartwheels on top of the overhead projector.

Day of Appointments

Today is a day of appointments. I had a dentist checkup at 12:30 and at 7:30 or 7:45 I have a hair cut, so I will go from being kind of shaggy-red-headed-kid to better-groomed-and-cooler-in-the-heat-red-headed-kid. The Dentist appointment wasn't too bad, I always dread them like the plague, but they weren't as mean as they could have been.

What am I doing in the meantime? not much, I need to make lunch for myself. Possibly I will watch a movie..and I will share some more music with you all! It's been a long time since I've shared anything from my perennial favourite ukulele strummer Julia Nunes (two years in fact!). So here is a song complete with her own beat box stylings.

Julia Nunes
The Debt

Rooftops

Hank sat atop the roof, clutching his bottle for dear life; one hand on the bottle, the other on the edge of the roof:nails digging in. Inhale, breathe in, exhale, breathe out, inhale, breathe in. He shook his head to get his shaggy hair out of his eyes, raising his head slightly to concentrate on the moon. It really was magnificent tonight, full and so big you could count individual craters on the surface. It was also casting a faint orange hue onto the night sky.

"Yeah, maybe this will help" Hank thought, desperate to find some peace, his heart was still racing, thud-thud, thud-thud, thud-thud. Easy does it; inhale, breathe in, exhale, breathe out, inhale, breathe in, exhale, breathe out, inhale, breathe out. He sat there, eyes focused on the great orange orb in the sky; hands still in place, mind focused on breathing and nothing else.

Unconsciously Hank's hand rose to his mouth, he took a sip from the bottle. It had gotten a bit warm by now, but it was reassuring nonetheless. He took another sip then slowly replaced his hand on the roof, trying not to let his arm tremble on the descent.

Behind Hank the upstairs window opened then closed again. WIth two steps Jen sat next to him. She fold her hands on her lap.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" She asked then paused, "Listen Hank, everyone was just joking. We really didn't mean any of it. For crissakes, you hate heights, why would you come up here of all places?"

Hank still sat silently, bottle hand rocking slightly back and forth.

"Heh..You're right, Jen, of all places..I shouldn't have come up here. Its just hard sometimes, and those people in there...they're supposed to be my friends.."

"I know Hank, I know. We're really sorry. Like I said, we were just giving you a hard time; we went too far. Come back inside, please Hank!"

Hank turned his head slightly towards her, away from the moon. "I'd like to come in, but I feel like if I stood up, if I moved at all...the whole world would crash down on me" His eyes were terrified, they pleaded for her to help him.

"Ahh, alright Hank, we can do this. Take my hand, good, there ya go. Now we'll take this inch by inch 'til we get back inside the window. I won't let you hand go for an instant." Jen smiled reassuringly, and they started to scoot backwards. Bit by bit, inch by inch 'til they were on the other side of the window again.

Hank collapsed against the inside of the wall. He sighed greatly, then asked "So you're sure no one will say anything else?"

"Not a peep, We'll grab you a fresh beer, just..stay off the roof, alright?"

"Right!" He smiled sheepishly, "No more rooftops"

LCD Soundsystem

I thought we could all use a bit more summery music, and its got a good summery video. I also think that the lyrics are great:

"Forget your past, this is your last chance now,
...
if you're afraid of what you need,
if you're afraid of what you need,
Look around you, you're surrounded,
it won't get any better"

LCD Soundsystem
Home

Speederesque

"C'mon, we've gotta get back before it gets dark!"

"Why?! We've got lights on these things! Ya Sissy-nanny!"

And with that I shot off, throttle cranked.

SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

trees, marsh, swamp and fog blurring past on all sides. Two moons lit up the sky one white, one orange. The daylight was disappearing quickly and tease as I might, the troopers would be out soon, then we'd be in trouble. As if on cue I heard rumbles on engines in the distance behind us. This wasn't good...My brother was chasing after me, an anxious look on his face.

"Hey maybe you were right about getting back..Let's try the short cut up here!" I shouted, my brother gave a thumbs up of agreement. We both then bore a hard left straight into the midst of the forest. We'd be off the path and dodging tree trunks from here on out..

Then from behind came an amplified message, "Citizens, you seem to be taking evasive maneuvers, please come back to the designated path and present your ID's. Failure to do so will mean pursuit!"

Shit, shit, Shit! I revved up the throttle a bit faster, I could hear my brother doing the same. We continued to zoom through the forest, weaving in and out, in and out, avoiding trees and other obstacles. If we kept up like this we would be just fine....The daylight was almost gone completely, our speeders were getting pretty caked with mud (this would make us harder to spot by the troopers, but was slowing us down a bit too). The night wildlife was beginning to come out: you could hear croaks, buzzing and other assorted noises.

Fire-bats dimly light up the forest; blazing swooping trails of light for a few seconds at a time. I smile, we know this forest and all of its secrets. "Head for the Sunken Cave!" - I shouted

We darted like musk-rats, zig-zagging fiercely. I almost hit a tree once or twice and quick thinking allowed me to avoid the rising and sinking swamp knees that allow the trees to breathe; hopefully one would upend a trooper. Eventually we made it to the cave. We jumped off our bikes and covered them in hanging moss to camouflage them, then we crawled in the small cave to wait.

Hours seemed to pass by slowly, in reality it was probably only a handful of minutes. Finally our pursuers caught up, they slowed down in confusion, circling the cave oblivious to its presence.

"They must have gone the other way, I could have sworn though..Alright, let's go!"

watching them disappear into the distance we breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry Eduardo, its my fault we came that close. We should have turned around much earlier."

"Eh, maybe we should have, but we didn't get caught so what does it matter? That was kind of fun! he said as he slugged me in the shoulder good naturedly. "C'mon, last one home is a burnt fire-bat!"

Good Morning

Its 11:42, I should probably eat breakfast soon. Outside people are pounding upon the house. No its not a zombie invasion, no one out there desires to eat me...I hope. We had some damage to the siding of our house last year during a particularly bad hail storm and they are currently replacing it. But it does sound like the house is either under assault or being heavily fortified. bang-bang-bang, hammer-hammer, crunch-crunch (repeat)

Now for some 80's music. Slow down, relax, we're all just on a road to nowhere. We'll get there when we get there. Its alright.

Talking Heads
Road to Nowhere

I believe

I believe in a thing called love. I believe you encounter it a number of times during your life. I believe that dinosaurs existed. I believe that there might be a god or there might not be a god. I believe oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies are awesome and that night bike rides are divine: especially if you turn off your light for a few seconds. I believe life is hard but we can make it easier on each other. I believe people can smile more, its not that hard.

I believe my dreams only get crazier, and I'm not sure they have ever meant anything. I believe that Kurt Vonnegut might have been right when he said that we're all here to just fart around. I believe exercise heals the body and mind, and music heals the soul. I believe nothing is stronger than imagination. I believe that if I hold my thumb up to the sky long enough someone will pick me, and with my towel in hand I could hitchhike across the galaxy. I believe the secret to flying is forgetting to hit the ground as you fall.

I believe everything changes, but at the same time nothing ever does. I believe that there are monsters in the closet and under the bed; if you spend a little time with them you can toughen up a little. I believe that I listen to way too much music but by no means am I going to stop any time soon. I believe that in my head I am a master swordsman, as well as a ninja, wizard, pirate and various super heroes depending on the day.

I believe that turning 21 is kind of anti-climatic. I believe that sunshine is necessary and outdoor naps are wonderful. I believe life goes by in the blink of your eyes, so never close your eyes or you'll miss it. I believe in campfires and ghost stories told late at night. I believe in steel drums in the summer time. I believe the best way to stay young is to go dancing and no one really cares how ridiculous you look while flailing your limbs about. I believe cartoons and animation in general are awesome and that you're never too old to watch them.

I believe we have one life to live and we should make the most of it while we are here...but there are also days when I feel like I've lived 20 times already. I believe guys cry too sometimes and that's okay. I believe some people know exactly what they want to do and some people take a very long time to figure that out. I believe we should travel as much as we can, even if its only to the edge of the city limits: get to know the world. I believe everything will be alright.

Its the Summer Once again

Its the summer, once again. Here I am, there y'all are across the sea. I finished another year of school and I'm not dead yet. No, not yet. A lot of things happened during that school year: made some new friends, walked around town, saw my first opera(which I ended up sleeping through parts of...I was very tired..), ate way too much late night food, got no closer to figuring out what I want to do with my life, danced a lot.

Now its time to write way too much, time to take bike rides all around, time to stop caring about anything and just let go. Time to have some fun. Time to kick a soccer ball around, to run and run and run until you collapse on the ground panting. Its the summertime again, and although it has never been my favourite season, I'm gonna try to take advantage of it.

Starting with some summery music:

Givers
Up Up Up

Through the Door

Through the door, through the window, he came in. Drenched in smoke, thirsty for fire. Two steps over the threshold, he lifts his head back and shouts with all his might. Stumbling into the kitchen, grasping for a drawer handles, throwing them out across the room one by one. Finally he encounters what he is looking for, a box of matches. One small stick is removed, flipped, and stroked across the side of the box, erupting the head of the stick into a small flame.

Greedily the man's eyes gleamed, mouth opening wide, small flaming stick flicked in. With a quiet crunch the match is broken in his mouth and his whole body seems to be aglow. He smiles in satisfaction. Closes his eyes and disappears.

Post Rapture Assesment

They said The Rapture was supposed to happen yesterday at 6 PM, but it seemed like a day just like any other, maybe a bit sunnier in the afternoon. It was quite relaxing, was the Rapture supposed to be relaxing? who knows? Through out my college town, there were still cook outs and barbecues, people laying out in the sun, frisbees being thrown, hulas hooped, bikes were rode; generally a good time was had, if the heaven's had opened up, I think people would have said "Please, a little longer, its such a nice day, it'd be a horrible waste to leave now.."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Under the Sun's heat, under the cool earth, beneath rock and stone, under lock and key, there lay a chest. A chest that had long been forgotten; the ones who had buried it were long gone. Yet the chest was still there, waiting.

It had waited and waited, until one particularly sunny Wednesday in July. Two imaginative boys had been laying in the sun most of the afternoon, lazily watching the clouds go past, exclaiming what they thought the shapes looked like,

"Look! A turtle!"

"No! Now its a Rocket Ship!"

"That one's a mushroom!"

"Bunny!"

Then a series of odd clouds passed, almost as if the sky was trying to tell a story. The boys continued to shout what they saw..

"Look, I think that one's a shovel!"

"Those two look like...kids! like us!"

"Look an 'X'!"

"A..Chest?!"

Both of them together, "TREASURE?!"

So together they ran home and grabbed two shovels and ran off into the woods to find a good spot without roots to start digging. Eventually they came to an opening in the woods and started to dig.

Scoop, throw, scoop, throw, scoop, throw. On and on and on.

They got tired, but didn't stop, the cold dark earth was all around them but they kept going. The sun had gone down, and they knew they would have to take a break so their mother wouldn't kill them. So they went home. In the morning they got up extra early, did their chores as fast as possible and then ran to the hole.

The brothers dug and dug, eventually striking their shovels into a surface with a dull thud. They were more than thirty feet down by now, or had to be, they thought, the sunlight was oh so far away. They knelt down and dusted the dirt below them where they felt the thud. After a few moments a very old, worn chest began to emerge. The boys got excited with anticipation and started to uncover it faster, sweeping and scooping the dirt away with their hands.

Soon enough, the ancient chest was uncovered and the boys collapsed beside it. It was clearly locked, but maybe the lock had given way after all these years. They tried just lifting it; no luck. So they got creative, holding a shovel to the metal lock they jumped upon the shovel head and after three or four jumps, there was a loud "KLANG!" and the lock popped clean off.

The boys jumped down off their shovels and each grabbed a side of the chest lid, and heaved upwards. Inside were just a few things, a small packet, an envelope, and a few small momentos. The brothers took the envelope, opened it and the older brother read out loud:

"Dear Future Adventurers,

I hope that it was a summer day which found you digging up our treasure we left so many years ago. I would like to apologize, you were probably expecting gold or rupees, some sort of treasure that would make you rich just like me and my brother imagined as we started digging in a similar hole when we were but young lads. Now time has passed and I thought I would pay it forward for a new generation of adventurers. In the packet you will find 4 four leaf clovers, may they bring you luck in your future travels.

Yours truly,
The Brothers Matthew and Joseph
June 3rd,
1832"

The older brother dropped the letter back into the chest, and pick out the packet containing the four leaf clovers. He handed two of them to his brother. Smiling the adventurers clambered out of their hole and ran home.