The Party Was A Success Tuesday, June 26, 2007
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I am recuperating this evening, recovering from the post-vacation blues. I spent an enjoyable, whirlwind few days in Scottsdale. I was in for, among other things, my brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law’s engagement gala, as I have previously mentioned. It was a great evening. Both my mother and father were actually in the same room together and, after checking their edged weapons at the metal detector, they were even cordial toward one another. I am totally joking about the edged weapons part. My mother’s weapon of choice is a filigreed silver .22 she conceals in her bra. Ha. It was nice to see the two of them speak to each other and find mutual joy in their son’s special evening. I know they are proud of him and their newly-acquired daughter.
Abby, my brother’s fiancée, has a wonderful family. She is the middle child of 3 girls. Her mother and father are hilarious, warm, effusive people; I have come to like them very much. Her mother wants to adopt me! I know my parents think highly of them as well. They put out a great spread, too. The catering was by a local b-b-q place called El Paso, one of my favorites! Abby’s mom imported soft pretzels and Tastykakes from Philadelphia and, as if the afforementioned smorgasboard was not enough, there was a cake as large as my bed! I ate until I had to slip my belt 2 notches and drank half a case of Stella Artois. Ugh, I think I am swearing off food for a week. I am putting myself on a yogurt and tree-bark diet until I can see my feet again.
Summer has descended in my brief absence. Summer, like a suffocating wool blanket is smothering St. Louis and will continue to do so until fall. Back to showering 3 times a day; back to changing my shirt after a half-mile stroll around the corner. I am buying stock in the company that manufactures Certain-Dri. I think I can make a killing and retire early. Thanks, Ameren UE for raising my electric rates just in time for air conditioning season!
A Beautiful Sunset On This Cool Night Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Posted by T-Bomb in Observations, St. Louis.1 comment so far
This evening the heat broke in St. Louis and a comfortable breeze swirled through the streets. I sat outside, enjoying the cool, peaceful evening and watched the sun set, gracefully sliding below the thick stand of trees on the edge of Forest Park. As the setting sun painted the low-slung, diaphanous clouds deep orange and violet I reflected, yet again, on the recent absurdity that has become my life. There are no solutions, merely recriminations. My feet remained firmly rooted to the rough-hewn stone beneath, unmoved by the desperate cries of my heart to run to her, run until my breath gives out and my legs fail; to fly to her, wide-eyed and delirious, seeking respite, nepenthe, peace. I silently screamed at the stone beneath my feet, yet the obdurate stone was unmoved.
So I arose, cast one last gaze toward the west and, as the last liquid vestiges of sunset glimmered in the foliage, I held my head up and slowly began my walk home knowing that, as always, my eyes would be drawn, as of their own accord, up the street toward where she lives; the evening’s final, unconscious expression of hope.
One Promise, Two Sisters Saturday, June 16, 2007
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Pink was the color of the day today in St. Louis. Pink was the color of hope; the color of strength; the color of courage. On this day, pink descended in a wave and lifted us all in the tide of the indomitable human spirit because today tens of thousands of people joined together to honor a promise made 25 years ago.
Today, 3700 breast cancer survivors were joined by innumerable supporters for the annual Race For The Cure. Each and every woman, man, and child who showed up and lent their support on this hot, hazy Midwestern day had a smile on their face, love in their hearts, and words of hope voiced by their lips. Each and every one turned the fountains, streets, parks, and buildings of this city pink. There are not words that can express the soulful, perfect beauty of their endeavor as they celebrated each survivor and mourned each woman tragically felled by a disease they fervently hope will someday be stamped out.
37oo survivors; as numerous as the tears beading my lashes as I type. 3700 women, each placed in an extraordinary situation, each asking for something that comes so naturally to the rest of us: to be here in the morning to watch the sun dawn on a new day.
Nancy Brinker made a promise when she lost her sister, Susan. Honor that promise.
Listen To The Burrito… It Knows All Wednesday, June 6, 2007
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Oh, I almost forgot! I have discovered the most revealing query you can pose in order to gain maximum insight into one’s personality:
Qdoba or Chipotle?
Heck, yeah. As far as I am concerned, it is Qdoba, hands down. Completely A-W-E-S-O-M-E.
I Am A Total Domestic Slave Sunday, June 3, 2007
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Listen to the way I spent my Sunday:
I woke up, made the bed and cleaned the bathroom after my shower. Then, after reading the Sunday paper with a couple cups of Starbucks, I went to the supermarket and bought a cartload of food. I brought the groceries home, put them away, threw a load of laundry in the machine and preheated the oven. While the oven was coming up to temperature, I opened up the package for one of the two roasting chickens I bought, seasoned it, and popped that sucker into the oven. I then proceeded to fold my clean laundry and iron about a dozen shirts while the chicken cooked.
Do you believe this? I am going to make the perfect freaking wife for someone someday! I think I had better drink a couple of beers and put a ballgame on right quick.
Anyway, the happy couple sent me a bunch of pictures chronicling their engagement. Here are 2 good ones:
Is this not a beautiful backdrop for a proposal? Note the candles lining the walkway and the muted floodlights flanking the table. The linens covering the chairs are a nice touch as well! Why is that one candle on the right side extinguished? The world wants to know!
Here they are, shortly after the big moment:
Everyone say it in unison: Awwwwww…
Hitting The Nail On The Head Friday, June 1, 2007
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I was moping today, half-mockingly, over the imminency of my birthday when one of my colleagues shook her head and, exasperated, asked me why turning 32 was such a big screaming deal.
“You talk as if something big is missing from your life,” she said.
I just smiled. What else could I do? It was the most poignant statement I have heard all week!
Breakfast, Anyone? Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Posted by T-Bomb in Observations, Women.2 comments
One of my favorite memories about Kim is one I call “The Flapjack Fiasco.” First of all, the mere fact that she cringes at the word flapjack is good for a chuckle. Like watching her cringe at the word moist. As in, “Man, these are some moist flapjacks!” Kim, if you are out there reading this, than MOIST…MOIST…MOIST!!! That probably engaged the gag reflex, didn’t it?
Anyway, Kim, because she is so sweet, wanted to make pancakes one morning. She got out all the ingredients and prepared the batter. She heated up a skillet on the range top and doled out the first dollop of the mix onto its surface. Now, as we all know, the first pancake is always sacrificial; it never comes out right. It is the mutant that is usually fed to the dog! Yet I could immediately tell that Kimberly was irritated with this lesser specimen, almost as if the pancake was mocking her. Over my protests, she tossed the hapless jack into the sink and doled out mix for another. The aroma at this point, by the way, was heavenly.
The second pancake began to cook and it became instantly clear that it would not meet the exacting standards of the cook so, accompanied by a short string of curses, it was summarily lobbed into the sink, where it sullenly ran down the stainless steel sidewall and came to rest on top of its sacrificial cousin.
Somewhere around this time, extra milk was added to the batter to thin it out somewhat, and a third pancake was attempted. This one immediately began to run, amoeboid, every which way in the pan until it began to quickly brown. This was more than Kimberly could take. “Son of a BITCH!!” she exclaimed, and tossed both the protean pancake and the remaining batter into the sink.
I could not hold it in any longer; I put both my arms around her and began laughing uncontrollably. She was so irritated and looked so forlorn, my pancake perfectionist. I know it only stemmed from her thwarted attempt at doing something nice for me, but I wish she would have known it did not matter a whit; the simple act of her making me pancakes was more than enough. I would have happily eaten the art-deco pancakes; hell, I would have licked the batter out of the bowl!
She calmed down, whipped up another batch of batter, and made me the best pancakes I have ever eaten. They were flawless in every way.
The reason I am bringing this up? Not too long before this, I had a similar meltdown while trying to make deviled eggs for the two of us! Aargh, I couldn’t peel the shells off those fucking eggs to save my life! And of course, she had a tremendous laugh at my consternation.
Kim, the two of us are so very much alike. Thank you again for the pancakes.
A 9-Year-Old’s Courage We Can Learn From Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Posted by T-Bomb in Heartbreak, Observations, St. Louis.add a comment
I read the most inspiring human interest story in the St. Louis Post-Dispatch yesterday. A mother was driving her 2-year-old daughter and 9-year-old son when the SUV she was piloting slipped over the side of the road and down an embankment. The vehicle landed nose first. On impact “it sounded like 15 cannons”, 9-year-old Chase Ringwall announced. The SUV rolled over onto its roof and came to a rest.
Chase’s first act was likely a measured response of panic: “I’m alive! I’m alive!”, he screamed. He called to his mother, who was suspended upside-down by her seatbelt in the drivers’-side seat. She was unresponsive and he immediately saw that “her head was in a pool of blood.” “I thought she was dead,” Chase said.
Chase Ringwall knew then he must take charge. He called to his sister, Maya, who was still conscious and established that she was unhurt. He then crawled under her seat and unfastened her belt. Chase let his sister fall onto his body to prevent her from being cut by the broken glass strewn about the vehicle.
He got Maya safely out of the SUV and went back for his mother. When he realized he would be unable to either arouse her or free her from the car seat he immediately climbed to the road to get help. He flagged down a motorist who, with the help of a pocket knife, was able to free Chase’s mother and call for the Rescue squad.
How many 9-year-olds would have the presence of mind to function at this level? Chase, the courage you demonstrated has lifted my soul. You saved your family. You brushed aside your fear and ran into, not away from, danger. You are a true hero.
Chase’s story has managed to lift the pall that hangs over my heart today. I only wish I had demonstrated that sort of courage a few months ago when it may have been enough to save my relationship with Kimberly.
With the continuing hope that she will be unable to resist occasionally peeking in on this blog, I want to say this: Kim, make sure you are not going to make the same mistake I have made. The way I see it, there are two ways to look at the events of the last 4 months. Your way is from simple necessity – necessity borne of the hurt I inflicted on you. As you told me, you never in your wildest dreams believed I would show up at your doorstep with my heart in my hand and “I love you” on my lips. You had an incredibly rough time getting through this. Now I fear that the hurt was so great that you cannot imagine placing yourself in that situation again. That is a risk you believe you would face were you to consider opening your heart to me and giving us another chance, and it is untenable to you.
This is completely reasonable and defensible. It is also exactly the course of action I had taken in the first place that led to this position. It was my own fear that precluded my ability to risk everything by opening my heart to you. Unfortunately it took me several months away from the wonder that is you to make me realize the risk is more than worth it.
If only I could make you see that since you still love me and still care very deeply for me that it just may be worth it for you to again take that risk. Which comes to my other point – the second way to examine the events that have transpired over the past 4 months.
In pushing you away from me I gave up the chance of something beautiful; of something close to perfection. I did this out of fear and primitive self-preservation instincts. You have taught me to overcome my past. You have taught me you are more than worth the risk. Sometimes when you love someone you have to find it in your heart to forgive their transgressions and give them another chance. All I ask is that you consider doing this. My fear put both of us in this boat; were I not an hermetically-sealed emotional basketcase you and I would probably living together and planning our future together. Please consider setting aside your own fear.
I love you. I cannot say it enough. I want to tell you every day, forever.
Joshua
What good things a breeze may bring Monday, March 20, 2006
Posted by T-Bomb in Observations, Women.add a comment
One of the more enjoyable things I have found which suffuses an otherwise ordinary day, ever so briefly, with pure vibrancy, is a perfume-laden breeze. Let me explain:
I will be walking outside when a woman will catch my eye. Our paths will cross and I will usually smile or say a quick hello but the part I wait for is when she passes by. Bare moments after she has passed forever out of the envelope in which I live my life I will briefly catch her scent. It is a complex, diaphanous amalgam of freshly washed hair, perfume, skin lotion, even the leather of purse or shoes. I will close my eyes, sometimes pause for a moment, sometimes even look back as she departs, shoes clicking smartly on concrete and hair trailing behind her. I will enjoy this fleeting moment of intimacy with a complete stranger I likely will never come to know and it always brings me, however briefly, a trememdous moment of pure joy.
Who knew?
