Welcomes Home

She climbs out of the truck, her feet touching the gravel of the drive. The barking dogs and the rustling leaves in the wind are the only sounds. Her voice resonates as she calls the dogs or as she calls them the baby girls (who are getting to be much more like old ladies) to her side. Hailey, the terrier arrives stick in mouth tail wagging the entire back half of her torso with it. Her whimpers escape even though her mouth is full. The dog drops the stick. She tosses it back into the woods as Hailey takes a head start in the direction she's facing. Molly, the retriever walks back and forth between her legs wanting to be pet but too excited to stand still. They stay by her side as she wanders into the blue A frame that stands within the wilderness and puts her bags down. Her Dad advises her to go to sleep in her old bedroom after the red-eye flight. She chooses to crash on the couch by him and the dogs. The relaxation of being so far away from everything and back where she started overwhelms her as her eyes close to dream.

Three days later she steps off a subway, goes up the escalator, through the turnstiles, and there he is smiling, sleepy and open-armed. Her pace increases to kiss him, get into his arms, after cars, planes and trains she was finally back. He takes the heavy stuff, and they walk together the ten minutes back to their apartment. It is just barely morning, they talk slowly on the empty streets about her 3,000 mile trip and his adventures over the same weekend at their home. Her hand grasped in his, he opens the door and there is their cat waiting to welcomes her. A little annoyed by her absence the cat does not purr but demands attention. They curl up together in bed with the cat laying at their feet. His body pressed against hers he whispers, "I'm glad you're home," in her ear and she says, "Me too," as they fall asleep.

The Most Impressive Victory Ever!

There I was cornered. My two kings against her five. Two little mice trapped by five fearsome cats. We just paced back and forth as they set up in formation. We were barely surviving, hardly scraping past them as one by one they attempted to attack. Until finally I saw it, a glimmer of sunlight appeared on her eighth move. The kings debated who would be the sacrifice and who would be the new ruler of the checkerboard. Each noble in their wish to save their companion, but only one could survive. In the end King Banana Fana proved that his martyrdom was the only chance they had at defeating the evil empire of Brussel Sprouts. He made his move, forcing the King Sprout to jump him. Leaving King Mango Tango open to jump Kings Stem, Brussel and Sprout. Now it was two kings to one. King Mango Tango danced around avoiding the ropes determined not to allow King Banana Fana’s sacrifice to be in vain. King Yuck lost his patience and made a foolish attempt to trap, King Mango Tango saw his opening, he moved right between the two of them forcing one to die. Now it was one-on-one, and King Mango Tango edged King Picky Icky onto the ropes. If King Picky Icky kept retreating he knew he would win. Just one more move, he thought. Finally with a shout of triumph it was over! King Mango Tango jumped King Picky Icky and I won!

Americana

Another 4th of July approaches me like a drunk in the street. Stumbling and fumbling and blocking the sidewalk, he adavances. Hare brain ideas that he wants desperately to be true are dispensed in a voice that belongs to the seven cans of Coors Light. He vocates on the love of this country, the greatest nation among nations. He points to the American flag on his t-shirt and asks if any of us know of any nation greater. The nation where it is our responsibility to criticize our government! The country that is governed by the people. The country where the people allow the capitalist regime to conquer their will by placating them with the media.

With that sentence the elated patriotism of this inebriation slowly fades into something much more sinister, more revealing. Did you vote?! What's the name of your state assembly person, your mayor? We blame the government and we don't bother to vote for our representatives! Is that a protest? Is that patriotic to sit idly by? We pay more attention to the lives of celebrities than we do to what the President is doing. We send our troops to die so we can sit in front of our televisions and feel safe watching the baseball game. We treat athletes like heroes when the real heroes are out there everyday risking their lives so that we can vote in an election, have freedom of the press and religious freedom. Yet no other American takes responsibility or action. God we don't even take care of our soldiers who have returned from battle!

Tears well in his eyes in anger as his face is a deeper shade of scarlet. I read the papers. I see what we are doing, and that is nothing, we are being protected so that we can live the American way. The American way to get as much for as little as possible, to not take any responsibity for our actions, to just go with the flow. What happened to this country, this land that I love? At this he drags himself away to release some of the alcohol's venom into the bin. When those fireworks are over, he turns and stumbles down the street. I watch the clock strike midnight as another Independence Day comes to an end.

Glacier Bay

There she is moving a few feet at a time towards the water. Carving her way through the mountains, down the ancient path that she's occupied for all these years. No one dares trespass on her frozen tundra. At the gaze across the Bay her face drops at the beauty of the water, fluid and dancing, feels his tides touch her toes, ankles, knees as he greets her like a cat meandering between her legs adjusting his whiskers.

Writing on the thread of the Web

I've kept different types of journals over the years full of the scraps from my cavernous mind. Different notebooks filled with poems, stories, embellishments, and editorials. They were just simple places to release thoughts and emotions that were bursting through my hands as they tried to grasp for something solid to hold on to, so I didn't just get swept away in a self-made tornado. The pen and paper were trustworthy friends to confide to.

The privacy of notebooks is drastically different from a blog. I recognize that this is the public domain, a dangerous and invigorating place to write. Letting my thoughts, experiences, and ideas out into the World Wide Web where people can read them at their leisure, and give a response is exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. So here I am, not sure of what to share, but writing all the same on the largest bathroom wall of all.