Tag: commentary

Posted on

Taking Some Wrong Turns

Astronaut-Earth-sign1-300x221Why do I always get lost? I always get cold and clammy any time I see a “Detour” sign, which is ironic since my first novel is called Detours, but that is a metaphor while real detours just freak me out. I guess it’s because I usually only know one way to get anywhere, so when that way is taken away from me I cease to function as well. When I first moved to upstate New York it seemed like I was getting lost every single day, and getting lost here means going deep into cow country and not being able to find a road that leads out of it.

Once, a couple of summers ago, I was in Rome (Rome, NY, people) for a get-together with some teacher colleagues. I had never been in Rome by myself before, but I thought I knew the way back to route 69 that would take me back in the direction of home. The problem was that I ended up on the wrong street and I assumed it was parallel to the route I wanted. But it wasn’t. I kept driving anyway. I figured I would eventually run into an area that I was familiar with, and of course the longer I kept going straight the more likely that wouldn’t happen. I wasn’t going back, though, because that would admit I was so far off the path, so I kept driving.

The later it got, when the shadows began taking over the road in front of me and I had to turn on my headlights, the more I began to worry. When I finally passed a sign for “Ava,” which is an hour away from where I wanted to be, I finally realized it was time to suck it up and admit that I was hopelessly lost. So I stopped the car by the side of the road (I still wasn’t turning around) and I did what I usually do when faced with a dilemma. I called my wife. She directed me to a road I would have missed otherwise, and within minutes I was back on familiar ground. I guess that’s what comes from actually being from around here. Continue reading “Taking Some Wrong Turns”

Posted on

Should We Talk About the Weather?

th“Do you think it’s going to rain today?”
“Yeah, it definitely looks like rain.”

That’s a conversation I’ve had about a million times, and usually it’s with people who are associates. Not friends. You know why? Because with my friends we talk about real subjects, like love, war, and who we think is going to win American Idol this year. The weather is relatively boring unless something like a flood, a tornado, or an earthquake hits. Then we debate over who should have shown up with relief efforts and when. But only then.

Usually talk about the weather is just space filler, what you say when you don’t know what to say. Like on a first date, or on a break at work, or when stuck in an elevator with men wearing Brooks Brothers suits. It is the absolute last resort, and the problem is that everybody knows it. So when you adroitly bring up an impending rain storm be aware of the rolling eyes or what I call the “dead stare.” That’s when they’re nodding along but looking through you while you talk. It’s usually followed by “Sure,” no matter what it is you just said.

Do you blame them for spacing out? Talking about the weather is usually as dull as dishwater. But it accomplishes its purpose most of the time, to fill in the space. Continue reading “Should We Talk About the Weather?”

Posted on

The Ones Who Talk

thYou know “that guy?” He’s the one in the movie theater who can’t stop himself from yelling at the characters on screen as if they’re friends of his who are making a mistake. The one on the bus staring at his iPhone, whispering to it like it’s an old friend who’s done him wrong. “No!” he says as the screen goes blank for no good reason. He’s the guy who interrupts every conversation that goes longer than one exchange because he “just has to” interject something that is of a life-and-death importance. Yeah, I used to be that guy.

It all started with books, innocently enough. I was probably five or six and reading was what I lived for. Of course we didn’t have that many age-appropriate books at home, so I would read through the ones we had multiple times, like they were going out of style. The characters in those books became really good friends of mine, so I would begin imparting knowledge to them over the course of the book. “Don’t open that door!” I would say, knowing that behind the door was nothing good.

Then it moved on to movies. I’ll never forget the first time I saw Back to the Future and I kept telling Marty, “Your plan’s not going to work!” but he just wouldn’t listen. Luckily for him, even though his plan didn’t work, everything still came together in the end. If he had only listened to me it would have been a lot easier, though. And when the one scientist said, “They’re all engineered to be female,” in Jurassic Park, I yelled at the screen, “Hell no. They’re smarter than your science!” Look who was right.

But not everyone saw it the same way I did. In particular my sister would tell me to “pipe down” when I would get out of control responding to things that really were just one-way communicators. She would pound on my door while I was narrating my baseball games, and when I was proposing to Samantha Micelli (I guess I was loud) and tell me to knock it off. Apparently “nobody” wanted to listen to me profess my love for a fictional character. Of course, though, that didn’t stop me. Continue reading “The Ones Who Talk”

Posted on

Caffeine Love

cup-of-coffeeI fell in love with coffee just after I got married, the blissful haze of wedded bliss leading me to try all kinds of new things I had never ventured to try before. She drank coffee in starts and stops, but I had been content to live vicariously for at least a year, drinking various other hot drinks while she drank heaven. Until we tied the knot, and then it was on.

And there are so many different types out there too. Before then I thought there was but one, like the one ring forged in the fires of Mt. Doom. It was “coffee,” like “eggs,” or “deer,” or “pajamas.” But that’s not the case at all, I realized once I decided to just go for it instead of simply dipping my toes in the wading pool. So I dove in headfirst, into the Olympic-sized swimming pool of coffee, the various flavors and shades, the textures and densities, the sizes and the culture.

Now I can tell a Colombian bean from one grown in Antigua (in the taste), and I have sampled such flavors as Autumn Spice, Pumpkin Latte, and Green Apple. Green Mountain, and Dunkin Donuts, and Starbucks, and various other big names began fighting for space in my refrigerator, right after I got married, and in my cabinet, and in my coffee mug as well. And I don’t have just one either. I have three distinctly different mugs that are specifically for my coffee. I know. You’re jealous. Continue reading “Caffeine Love”

Posted on

Six For Saturday

It’s amazing that even though February is the shortest month of the year, March has flown by very quickly this year. With only a couple of days remaining in the month, though, it still doesn’t look like spring outside. As I look out of my window I see patches of snow on the lawn, but … Continue reading Six For Saturday

Posted on

Learning to Change

thThe R on my keyboard sticks. In fact, every single time you see an R in this blog post just know that I’ve typed it in repeatedly before it showed up. I’m not quite sure when it started, but it was probably about three weeks ago. It was subtle, too, at first, so that I merely found it mildly annoying. In the beginning. Then it began truly bothering me this past week. With a vengeance.

I thought about prying the key up and trying to figure out what was happening underneath, thought about being the keyboard doctor, but I stopped myself with one very real fear: what would happen if I couldn’t get it to go back on? Then not only would I be without a perfectly working R key, but I would then have also maimed my keyboard to no avail. At least it’s not my space bar.

When it began messing up my Facebook posts and responses, that’s when I knew it was more than just an inconvenience. I mean, it’s Facebook! That’s probably an extension of my anal retentive nature, needing everything to be perfect, and being extremely disappointed when it reveals itself to be different from my ideal. It’s why I’m hardly ever satisfied, even when things go as well as they can possibly go. I’m always looking for that perfect scenario, that fluid R to complete my keyboard.

When I was young it first manifested in my bedroom while I was counting bars on my window. I would sit on my bed and stare through the glass at those thick black bars that made me feel like I was in prison. I counted them over and over again, even though they never changed. There were eight in total, and it eased my mind to have such a solid footing. I knew there were eight, and everyone else who counted would have seen eight as well. It was soothing in its way.

Continue reading “Learning to Change”