MIXBAG OF MUSINGS

How do you project that spot on the calendar when all of a sudden it's not somebody else's home you're journeying to for the holidays, but it's your home everybody else is coming to? It's not like my daughter has left us and comes home for the holidays (she's not quite 4 years old yet), but my house has turned out to be the gathering point for several disparate branches of loosely fragmented particles of a family brought together by circumstance. Most of the connections between us are frail at best, with some notable exceptions, and we get together almost exclusively on Thanksgiving and Christmas. I've tried to come to terms with this whole "getting together for the holidays" thing, and I believe I understand the phenomenon a little better now. The truth is, days off from work are rare for me. It's hard to find any free time to do things around the house. On top of that, there are usually great games scheduled on those days, so dealing wi...

I spoke with an old friend yesterday. He called me on my cell phone out of the blue. I was walking around the mall with my Dad, killing time as we waited for my wife to show up for lunch (she's never on time!). My friend Alvin says he's coming to Florida this week. His company is sending him to Orlando for some safety training, sponsored by his Union. He'll be there all week. It's about a three and a half hour drive from where I live. Not exactly around the corner, but certainly a lot closer than the continental divide we've had between us since I moved away from California 7 years ago. We both vowed that we'd make an earnest effort to see each other on this trip, whatever it takes. Back in the day when Alvin and I first became friends, we were very different people from who we are now. Not only younger, but also driven by other motivations. Alvin grew up in a small oilfield town in south-central California. One of the younger brothers in a large family of m...

As the sun sets again, another day fades away. The clock ticks with ever increasing speed as I grow older; gaining momentum with each passing second. It's hard to be carefree when you feel the pressure of goals not achieved, and the finish line seems to approach you with the force of a freight train. I gaze upon my daily accomplishments at night sometimes, trying to find worthwhile achievements in my monotonous lifestyle. It's important to award yourself points just for doing the things that a working society requires, such as keeping a job, obeying the laws, investing in the economy, paying your taxes, etc. Mundane though they be these are not effortless tasks, and they form the backbone of our way of life. It's for the good of all that a majority of the population perform in this fashion. But I feel lazy and repressed, inhibited by petty fears of losing my comfort zone. Otherwise I would venture further into the world and try to live up to my self imposed expectations. S...

The colors of fall don't hit South Florida in the same spectrum-blasting way they do in the northern part of the country. There's gloom in the air and a sort of grayness dominates the scenery, and the leaves don't grasp for powerful tones before they wilt and die. They simply grow dull. Some people equate the change of season with the natural progression of events that mark the passing of a year. For instance, Christmas with winter, 4th of July with summer, and so on. In that same way, they balance their moods and spirits for that particular time. Despite the tireless efforts by the ubiquitious members of the advertising world that splash every holiday into our subconsciousness with thoughts of commercial expenditures, a sense of what certain holidays should feel like still persists in our minds, albeit sometimes only in bursts of nostalgia and naiveté. Either way, it's highly probable that the events that created those childhood memories that we cherish, were probably...

Hard to imagine what follows. I've long since stopped believing in gods and the religions that come with them. Yet the physics question of energy always transforming itself into something else makes it difficult to imagine that it all ends when we die. Thus the common belief in a soul - the essence of what we are, at least energywise. If our soul survives our physical death, what does it do next? Haunt the graveyards? Stick around to inspire the loved ones we left behind? Truly this last one is a romantic fantasy...that our spirit can look out for our children after we're gone...that we somehow still get to witness their development, the victories and failures in their lives. I don't know. I stopped looking for answers to questions that can't be answered a long time ago. Yet every now and then I can't help but wonder.