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Wednesday, June 27, 2012


We're here at work watching the match between Spain and Portugal. This is one of two semi-final matches, the other being between Germany and Italy. I'm really hoping that the final match results in Germany destroying Spain and taking the championship. Not that I'm ahuge soccer fan, but I respect that most of my family came from Germany, and will accordingly root for that team. They're one of my favorites in the World Cup competitions, a far better team than the United States is.

It's fun to watch. I have a co-worker who has family in Spain, and hasn't really let anyone live down the fact that they're the standing World Cup champions. To him, it doesn't matter that Germany has won it more times. It just matters that they didn't win last time.

Soccer.  The world's sport.  We'll see how the Rapids do next season.

CHRONICLES: A Quasi-Alaskan Solstice

Malcolm woke me up at 4:30 this morning. I was wondering why I felt so tired if it was so light out. By the way the sky looked, it could have been 6 or so. But yes, it was only 4:30. I had to snap a picture to share it with everyone.

Today is the day before the summer solstice, the longest day of the year. It's been a lack-luster summer to date. I haven't spent nearly enough time outside. With the days only growing shorter after tomorrow, I'll be cramped for time. Before I know it, it will be dark at 3 in the afternoon, and the cycle will start all over again.

I am thankful, however, that I don't live farther north, where the sun never sets and rises at the different solstices. I don't think I could handle that. This is plenty to get used to.

CHRONICLES: Synopsis of a Dreamscape

It seems that since I've begun to pay attention to my dreams, they've become much more vivid and memorable. Last night, for example, I dreamed that I was walking up a long, gradual ramp in what could have been a school or a museum. On my left, a white wall with the occasional piece of artwork adorning it. A doorway here and there. On my left, however, was windows and a railing. It may have been wide open to the outside. At any rate, it was cool, almost dusk, and raining outside. As I walked up the ramp, I remembered being in New England, or maybe as far south as Pennsylvania. I recalled that this was a place my parents once brought me as a child. As we approached the top of the ramped hallway, it opened up into a large room, what I could describe best as a food court in a mall. To my left was a long, wide hall, almost like a concourse in an airport terminal building...

...this is the crap I remember when I wake up.

When I feel like they could be stand-alone stories, I write them in in a fashion that communicates such things. Sometimes, when I go back and read them, the dreams come flashing forth like memories from a distant past. It's almost as if they are memories from a different mental plane.

There have been theories that when your body sleeps, your mind is free to associate with its counterparts from other realities. In a way, someone could be dreaming about your life while you're awake and don't even know it.

Other theories, like the movie "Inception", have us believing in lucid dreams, which I've found to be a very real thing one time. I dreamed that I was falling, realized it was a dream, and gave myself the ability to fly.

I suppose the only thing I can do in the interim is to keep dreaming and see where these stories take me. It is, after all, good to see so many of these old friends lately.

CHRONICLES: The Moon, The Lake, & The Boy

Today was Father's Day, so natually I was treated to what the typical American father experiences: I let my wife sleep and I got up with the boy around 7:30. I wasn't really motivated to do anything, as I felt it was my holiday, so I relegated myself to only washing two loads of dishes. I read for a good twenty minutes, too. Then my brother, the boy, the dog and I went out to this place called "The Moon". I don't think i's officially called that. It's just a a semi-hidden area in the middle of town on top of a high hill with a pretty incredible view. Then we came home, I ate a quick, late lunch, and we went up to Ward Lake for a walkabout. Malcolm had a good time running up and down the trails. Dash pulled on the leash, smelled everything, and drained what seemed like a good 2 or 3 gallons to mark some territory.

At home afterwards, the bro grilled up some steak and some asparagus which I matched with some easy shells and cheese. A pretty magnificent meal considering my petty contribution. Now Malcolm's in the bath, and I'm preparing to face an evening followed by the last week of my 20s.  While I'm excited to turn 30, I'm not REALLY excited. The closer it gets, the more I realize I'm in the worst shape of my life, mentally and physically, and all I'm doing right now is growing old. (Insert Billy Crystal's speech from "City Slickers" here.)

All in all, Father's Day this year was kind of disappointing. However, the highlight was Malcolm. The highlight of everything is Malcolm. Even if he's in a shitty mood and I've had a shitty day, for whatever reason, he makes me feel needed, and he makes me feel loved, unconditionally, in a way that is totally different from what you feel from your parents, siblings, best friends, or lovers. And to that, I smile as I write and my eyes well up. Happy Father's Day to all you dads who understand how it feels to be a dad.