It’s Sunday morning. I should be watching Friends for the umpteenth time and drinking coffee (dark roast). I should be curled up in a blanket, on a couch somewhere, taking sips and laughing. I should be daydreaming of weekends in the Caribbean, of trips to destinations unknown because I’ve seen them in a postcard somewhere. I should recall what postcards used to cost. I have no idea how much they are now.
I should be doing many things. After all, it is Sunday morning. But instead I am looking outside my study window, at the intermittent rain. If I am patient enough I can see it touch down in a puddle, which is how I know it’s still there. I’m sure if I open my window I would be able to breathe it in, the salty with the sweet, just like a confectioner’s shop.
I leave the window closed. It’s enough to imagine it, to remember it again, because I’ve been fooled before. I’ve been surprised by the smell of the rain, and I’m not in the mood for surprises this morning. Continue reading “It’s Sunday Morning.”
miracle: a highly improbable or extraordinary event. I believe in miracles. No, not the kind where angels show up and do magical things. Not the kind where the lilting sounds of strings betray a majestic happening. Not even the kind where a fairy tosses dust that makes everyone fly. I believe in honest-to-goodness down home … Continue reading Everyday Miracles
The diving board stretches out over an expanse of ground that should be a swimming pool. There should be cool, clear, sparkling water at its edge instead of the light blue turf that otherwise adorns the space in its rectangular glory. At first glance, upon driving past, it appears to be a standard swimming pool, … Continue reading The Diving Board
When I was a kid I wanted to be famous. I wanted the whole wide world to know my name, and not just for fifteen minutes either. I would look on TV and see stars like Bill Cosby and Jerry Seinfeld and I wanted that. People used to tell me all the time that I … Continue reading As Big As Bill Cosby
“Oh, my life is changing every day, in every possible way. And oh, my dreams. It’s never quite as it seems. Never quite as it seems.” -The Cranberries
I had this dream last night, and in it some people had broken into my car. I don’t remember where it was parked, but something tells me it was at the mall, in one of the outside slots, where the eighteen-wheelers like to park across several spots at the same time. I’m not sure why it had to be there, but of course that made it more appealing for thieves. And I couldn’t recall if I had locked the car or not, if it was a passive break-in or an active one, but I sensed that somehow I had locked it and they had smashed in the back window with a crowbar or some other such implement.
I’m not even sure where I was when this was happening, but I showed up moments after the thieves left. I could even see their own car pulling away, but I didn’t have my keys so I couldn’t follow them. They were driving away but looking back, taunting me because I didn’t have my keys. Then one of them, a sandy-haired youth, tossed the ring of keys out of a back window, and then they were gone. Just disappeared, car and all. I went to grab the keys but they weren’t mine. In fact, they were a set that kids play with, the large plastic multi-colored keys. And I remember feeling stupid that I hadn’t realized I had brought them instead of my actual car keys. Of course they belonged to the baby, but if you had asked me what baby I wouldn’t have been able to tell you.
Then I went back to check out the car, to see what other damage they had done besides bashing the back window in. The passenger side doors were wide open, open even wider than they can actually go, and the car looked pretty immaculate inside. Nothing seemed out of place at first glance. They had even brushed the glass off of the back seat and I could see the shards glittering against the pavement. Then I noticed that my iPod was missing, and I broke down in huge, gasping sobs, knowing that my world was over. Continue reading “Premonitions”
“Without leaps of imagination or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all, is a form of planning.” – Gloria Steinem
Too many people these days disregard possibility. They spend so much time focusing on the now that they lose sight of the future. They forget that things we do now affect our future. It’s why regret comes in waves and knocks us down when we least expect it. I remember when I saw The Neverending Story for the first time, and I identified with the poor creatures and people in Fantasia who merely want to be acknowledged again by children and adults alike, by people who have lost their imaginations and their will to dream up things fantastic. I identify even more now with those creatures and people now than I did back then. The Nothing is taking over our world. Continue reading “The Loss of Possibility”