Posts

Posted on

home it is

Hi.  This space is where I write on the internet.  Below is a sampling of some of that writing.  You can read it if you want, and it may even change on some days.

I know people tend to skip the paragraph when I talk about music, and that’s fine really… I don’t have a gun.  But, for my sake, I’d ask you sometimes try to muddle through – I often bury very real commentary in there.  Sometimes some of my favorite bits of writing I do are some of the talk-ups I’ve done for this record or that song.  Again, you don’t have to like what I like, or even like what don’t like, or even anything at all – I still don’t have a gun.  That said, here’s a paragraph on music.

I really never thought I’d like this Bon Iver album everyone’s been conferring sainthood upon over the last half of the year.  Turns out, while it’s not gonna top my list, it’s actually really good.  Maybe it’s that the lonely unaccompanied guitar and soft double-tracked vocals are speaking to the general melancholy I’ve been mired in the past month (self-imposed or not).  Instrumentally it’s built of twigs, but tunefully it’s strong as steel – something that’s sometimes hard to do without getting stuck sounding like some Mazzy Star wrist-slitting dirge.  What’s more, it lends itself well to the cold weather (which may be exacerbating that melancholy, come to think of it) – so it fits well with the clouds and morning fog.  I like it; I really do.  At least it’ll hold me until Merriweather Post Pavilion leaks…

Evenings lately I’ve been spending my post-work time helping out as a backstage guy for our church’s Christmas production (I attach little microphones to peoples’ ears, tape them down to their faces, and tuck the transmitter packs somewhere conspicuous in their costumes).  I’ve actually enjoyed the post-work “work” quite a bit, I never was much of a “drama” guy in school – and watching the people work (it is a full production, quite serious business to a novice like me) while safely in the wings has been interesting and fun.  I haven’t got to see Keaton but for in the early morning before work the past few days, but tonight was the last night of rehearsal so I’m released until the actual show nights at this point.  I know, you’re thinking, “Dave, spending your evenings at church doesn’t sound much like you.”  Yeah, well, maybe it doesn’t… but, then again, maybe it will.

I know I’ve written about it before… but I love the random urge to just “keep driving.”  You know, the moment when, as you’re driving along the highway homeward, you start thinking, “What if I just sped right past my exit and didn’t look back?”  I thought that the other day, imagining Sharaun and Keaton in the car with me.  Just drive on… right into the horizon.  Sleep where you get tired, eat where you get hungry, and stop where you please.  Maybe visit long-lost relatives, or national parks, or just the open road.  Just drive on… put something good and long on the stereo and settle in.  I guess I’d have to stop somewhere tho… and home really is the best place I know, so… home it is.

Goodnight.

Posted on

optioning tradition

Another hump-day.  Right now I’m simply counting down until my folks get here.  I’m actually not taking any “true” vacation while they’re in town, but I have high hopes that work’ll be light enough that I can phone it in for a good portion of the time.  End of year is typically quiet, so cross your fingers for me.  OK, go.

A couple of bloggers I read regularly lately wrote nice little bits about what they termed “Christmas tradition.”  I found their timing (while ultimately probably predictable, taking into account the season) quite, well, timely.  See, Sharaun and I had decided that, with Keaton nearing an astounding three years old (proof, in my opinion, that time is a cruel, cruel thing), it’s time we started a Christmas tradition that’s based around our little family.

Mostly this just means that we’re going to try and do Christmas at our home and not travel each year.  It was a hard choice, as we both love being with extended family – holidays or not – but I think it’s a good choice.  Now, neither of us is opposed to traveling on occasion, but for the general case I think we’re going to start doing Christmas at-home.  Of course, family can come to us – that would be great – and, in fact, this year my folks are going to celebrate Christmas at our house, which will, I think, be the first time since way back in college I’ll have been able to wake up on Christmas morning with them there (neat).  But, again, an at-home Christmas as a family is something I feel is important, and that’s the real goal here.

So, Sharaun’s been in charge of getting us some family-type Christmas traditions.  Sounds funny to say we’re “creating” or “starting” tradition – but, really, what else is it?  A young family with no history of the time together and a need to inject something static to build memories and enjoy the occasion.  I’m not really sure what she’s got planned, and we are in fact marching closer and closer to the holiday with nothing established as-yet.

To be fair, we did just get back from our Thanksgiving vacation late last week, and our tree is still in some 25%-done state due to busy evenings and busier days (boxes and Christmas flotsam currently litter our living room, and, as much as I love the holiday, the mess is killing me).  We hope to have things up and cleaned by the weekend – but who knows; things need to at least be in cheery Christmas order by the time my folks arrive, I say.  And, if we’re diligent, we should be working on establishing some Christmas rigor for the family to boot.  Let’s hope.

Anyway, I think it’s interesting to hear bloggers of a similar age and family-status mulling the same things.  Perhaps there’s hope for our generation after all, and maybe we won’t end up a bunch of MTV and reality-TV –suckled ne’re-do-wells.

Nothing more today, I’m out.  Goodnigh.t

Posted on

that footworn path

Happy workweek-fifty, fellow serfs.

Were we not destined by our birth-caste to labor as we do, we might now be napping in an open field or floating in cool water.  Yet, here we are; running the race, pulling the millstone along that footworn path.

The weekend, at least, however, held promise – as our alma mater pushed forward to SEC victory and now awaits the national championship game next month.  So, that, in part, lifted my spirits.  But with the return to work tomorrow, my mind will no doubt once again return to those ten days in Florida…

And, speaking of Florida, I’ve a funny story to relate now that it’s fresh on the mind.

While there staying with Sharaun’s folks, Keaton shared a bedroom with us, sleeping on a neat little “pop-up” cot thing on the floor.  And, even though we worried she wouldn’t sleep well with us in the room (I snore, after all), it turned out to be no problem at all.  In fact, I ended up liking it a lot – feeling somehow “closer” to her being able to sit up slightly and watch her sleep; having her climb into our bed occasionally (although I don’t think I’d like her having the option at will).  Also, it was just a good feeling to have the whole “family” packaged together in a single living space… you know me and my pioneer fantasies… maybe I likened it to some imagined one-room homestead.

Also by virtue of our vacation cosleeping arrangements, we learned that Keaton suffers from more than just one of Daddy’s nighttime eccentricities.  See, just like Dad, it seems she’s also taken to talking in her sleep.  Yup, sure enough we heard her chattering away some dreamy nonsense almost every single night.  Since I’m not a very light sleeper, I only managed to hear the loudest and clearest of these episodes, but Sharaun assured me she did it pretty regularly even when I didn’t catch it.

Of what I did hear though, the following exchange made me realize even more how much of her Dad’s daughter my little angel really is.  Check it:

Mmmm… grrrmmphh… No… I need to cook the pizza rolls…

Errrmmm… sssss…. I need to cook the pizza rolls!!

Gaaaaahh… Hey… where are my pizza rolls?…. ffffmmmm….

Clear as a bell my little baby was talking out-lout during her dream of, what I assume, was pizza rolls.  For those who know how beholden I am to the Godsend that is pizza rolls this should bring a smile.  The sleep-funk, the sleep-babbling, and apparently a great taste in bad-for-you finger foods: all things the good Lord has allowed to pass from my to her.  Poor girl.

No apologies for my rigor of writing this week, I’m gonna do what feels right and that’s what I’ll do.  Goodnight, and I hope we get to do this again soon.

Posted on

counting the hours

Last night in Florida; this one’ll be a dirge.

We went to dinner with the family, sans a couple members who are down and out with a stomach bug.  We got together with a friends from years past who we haven’t seen in years (and, our kid played with the kids of our friends, in a series of surreal “Oh crap, I’m totally old” moments).  Sharaun and I even split up one night to canvas acquaintances, since we’ve got so many folks we like hanging with down here.

All in all though, and I know I’ve said this as many times as I’ve written over the past few Florida days, the visit felt as long as it was – which is actually a good thing, as we often end up feeling like we had too little time, even though the days numbered enough.

And now, back at the inlaws’ rambling ranch-style Florida, built strong in the old days with cinderblock and copper pipe and thick walls, Pop-pop started a fire to push the cold air back outside.  That’s right: It’s cold tonight in Florida.  In fact, the news said lows in the upper 30s, I think.  For the central Florida coast – that’s chilly.  It’s a pungent coastal oak burning, but the chimney has a good draft and all we get is a slow-moving comfy warmth.  Keaton’s fascinated by the fire, which isn’t entirely unexpected given her lineage.  Upon returning home, sated and loose, we all took turns warming while staring into the flames – it’s primal, you know, staring at fire… in our blood from those very first days.

It’s comfortable here; I’m beginning to wish we could stay longer still… because, really, what’s to get back to?

But, reality calls… it’s back to work on Thursday, and I won’t lie and say I haven’t been checking e-mail on the iPhone – because I have.  Even sent a response or five hither and thither.  It’s hard for me not too, I’m so connected to the place… umbilically tied to the sawmill, stuck at its teat even when away.  With the holiday week, doesn’t look like I missed much – so the ramp back into things shouldn’t be that bad.  Although, returning to the mill alone will surely defeat my vacationing spirit; just suck it right out and stomp on it.

And with that I think I’ll hang up the hat for tonight.  With thoughts of one more morning of Florida sun to wake to, we bid you adieu.  Goodnight.

Posted on

spurned by santa

The molasses pace of this week and a half is more than I could ask for.  Every day I wake up thinking it’s a day later than it really is, and am pleasantly surprised when I realize the error.  So, when today was Monday as I rose, and I realized we’re down to our last two days – it was something of bummer.  But, let’s move on from all the talk of vacation-end and get on to some talk of vacation-happenings.

The other night we took a short walk down to the city park near Sharaun’s folks’ place.  It’s located smack in the middle of the historic shopping district here, and the city has done considerable work over the past ten years or so really shaping the place up.  In fact, it looks really good down there – and the crowds drawn to the park, temporary ice-skating rink (yes, in Florida), shops and food seem to show that the work has paid off.  We’ve walked the short mile or so down there a couple times already this trip, and each time have really enjoyed letting Keaton run around in the park and strolling the shoplined avenues.

This particular night, however, we were there right before dinner and the light was beginning to dwindle.  As we played in the park, we began to notice a man setting up lights around a sleigh sitting central to the goings-on.  Sure enough, Mr. Claus himself showed up for pictures with kiddies just as we were getting ready to make the walk back home.  When Keaton saw him, she absolutely lit up.  She looked at me, looked at mom, looked back to Santa – and just stood there struck like a stone, mouth open and wide-eyed.  I finally said to her, “Do you want to go say ‘hi’ to Santa?”  “Yeah!,” she squealed as she tore off in his direction.

There were several kids flocked around Santa, and she sort of sidled up alongside them in the back row and just stared up at him in awe.  Eventually, the throng thinned and she had a clear shot at him.  She stared right up and him and said, “Hi Santa!”  Only, she said it sort of smallish and demurely, since that’s just how our girl is.  Unfortunately, Santa did not hear her salutation, and instead turned his back to her to talk to some other kids.  At that, Keaton waited there a minute, wringing her hands, and the walked back to me with the sorriest, saddest look on her face I’ve ever seen.  When she got to me, she said, “He didn’t answer me,” in the most forlorn little voice.

I was absolutely heartbroken; felt crushed right along with her.

Trying quick to recover, Sharaun and I both said something along the lines of, “It’s OK baby, he just didn’t hear you that time.  Go on back over and say ‘hello’ to him a little louder this time so he can hear, OK?”  With a little prodding, she walked slowly back over and found another opening for some one-on-one time.  This time, Santa saw her first and stooped to speak to her.  As he did, she was excited, but I could still see the reluctance in her eyes from his initial spurning.  When she came back, she was a lot happier, but I could tell she still had some misgivings about this Santa guy.

Later that night, as I was putting her to sleep I asked her, “Wasn’t it fun meeting Santa today?”  “Yeah,” she said, and her voice turned frost cold and sad, “But… he didn’t answer the first time.”  I about bust out into tears right then and there.  Poor girl.

Sorry for the sob story… I promise it’s not indicative of the week.  In fact, we’ve had a fantastic time – and I suppose I should’ve chosen to relate a funny story instead, but that one stuck with me as something that might “blog” well.

For now, I’m outta here.  Holler at you guys later, OK?

Posted on

Happy Thanksgiving!

Just a quick-tap from the iPhone to wish everyone a good day of thanks.

For me, I’m thankful for this moment of respite with family, and am trying not to think about getting back to the grind.

Enjoy.

Posted on

knocking the dust off

After a nice break from writing while we eased into Florida, I just wanted to stop by and knock the dust off sounds familiar.

So far, our trip to the balmy South has been just as I’d imagined.  Even as we met our ride at the airport and I took those first few breaths of sticky, clean, Florida air – I knew it would be a good week.  And, what’s better,  I haven’t felt that driven to write (you may find yourself asking, “Gee, what’s new Dave?,” but in reply to that I would tell you sternly to “Shut your mouth, smartypants.”).  I figured, however, that I better log on and say something lest folks think our plane wound up in the drink and thought us lost forever.  (Not so.)

Last night we met up with my oldest and bestest friend for a couple beers and two regret-consuming-even-while-consuming cigarettes.  Was a good time, trading stories to bring each other up to date on current goings-on and asking after family and old friends.  We hope to meet up with more long-lost friends as our time winds on this week, and have put out feelers to try and make sure we can do so.  At our age, we can actually use the pretense of “getting the kids together” to catch up with folks we haven’t seen in years and years and years (do we need pretense?).

Well, already this whole blogging thing is bringing me down… feeling tied to writing and such.  So, I’m gonna cut it loose here and give these scant paragraphs to the world before signing off.  I’m pretty sure I’ll do it again tomorrow, as the lazy, gluttonous pace of the holiday usually makes for a good writing mood.

Until then I hope you got where you’re going and with who you’re gonna be with for tomorrow’s day of thanksgiving.  Take care internet.