Award

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO: And The Winner Is...

In which our hero has a laugh.

[Sunday, October 5th(?)]

"Probably the best story of the evening was Craig Dawson's 'How I Met My Wife Story'. I know of no one else that met over watermelon. Absolutely fantastic."

** A great story in any social context, to say the least. Apparently she liked the way he sliced watermelon for her. Not only did I get that little gem from Mr. Dawson, I also got a little surprise package from him in the mail. It was a CD of 'Craig Dawson's Greatest Hits'. Fantastic stuff. Not quite the same velocity as PUSA's stuff, but I would very easily put him in the same category of 'joy pop'. I really can't say enough good things about this gem of a CD. Quite inspirational to see what he's done over the arc of (gasp) 20 years. I only hope that what I send him in return is as well received.

Homestead

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE: Life at the White House

In which our hero goes back 30 years.

[Saturday afternoon, October 4th, Metamora, IL]

"200 W Rohman (Roman?). I don't remember much about living there, or even how long it was that I lived there. Unless I've forgotten somewhere, that was where we (1) ended up after moving from Eureka. I have no idea why it was that we left Eureka in the first place. 200 WR was where I was living during the blizzard of 77-78. I had a large snow cave by the driveway (2). I remember having this gold colored toy space gun that shot these neon colored plastic discs (3). I remember that pennies or dimes also worked in it (4). I remember buying Charlie Brown books from one of the neighbor kids and relating way too much to the title character (5). I remember lying to my peers at the time about seeing Star Wars so I could fit in to the group better. I remember having a snap together model of a WWII German tank (6) that I put together and took apart incessantly. I remember the room in the basement that they (7) called a 'bomb shelter'. I remember 'be home by five' before dinner, and 'be home when the street lights come on' after dinner."

(1) The family at the time. I can't remember if Janette had been born yet or not. Maybe it was Jennifer's arrival, or soon to be arrival that prompted the departure from Eureka. If that were the case, the case could be made that the main reason for departing 200 WR was the arrival or imminent arrival of Jeanette. But I don't remember the exact timeline. Go figure.

(2) Or maybe I was a lot smaller and the cave was of no great or impressive size. I want to say that I named it 'Fort Power' or some such thing.

(3) It ended up being the first clip fed, sawed off weapon I ever owned.

(4) But to far less distance and effect. The only advantage of the coins was that they were easier to come by than the discs the gun was meant to shoot.

(5) That would be a good indicator that there was something not quite right with me even at that age. Other kids wanted to be Luke Skywalker or Darth Vader, yet I found a reflection of myself in Charlie Brown. The main difference being my little red haired girl ended up being a blonde.

(6) Or some such armored vehicle. I remember it was molded grey and had tracks.

(7) The parents. Really I think it was a small pantry/storage area or some such thing.


** Much to Cromag's annoyance, I have been adding all sorts of little doodads to my blog page. One thing I've wanted for a while was a way to have some type of music player that I could load with whatever music was in heavy rotation for me at any given time. So I went out and found just such an add-on. Then I discovered something. The program supports MP3 format, which is what I've been encoding anything I bring in from tape or LP as. Turns out that when I rip things from CD, they get encoded as WMA files, which the player does not support. I was not happy, as a tad more than 2/3 my music is in this particular format. I then ventured onto the 'net to find a conversion program by which I could change WMA files to MP3 files. I now have that program, and have to decide how much of my music I want to change. Then, I have to figure out how to use the add-on program, then I have to load it into my blog, then you can be further annoyed by my choice in music.

Patchwork

CHAPTER THIRTY: Fragments Forced Together

In which our hero's train of thought derails.

[Saturday afternoon, October 4th, Metamora, IL]

"I guess that the early fall is going to be an oddly appropriate time for me to have made this trip. Just like the leaves that will soon be falling from the trees, it seems that this trip will most likely be when all but the last one or two connections to this place will fall away from me (1)."

"There is still a curious sense of both physical and personal isolation for me here. I'm listening to the wind rustling the corn and looking at how the green of the trees plays against the sky (2). It might be nice to have someone (here) that I could use as a verbal drain for all the stuff wandering around in my head, but luckily I have paper (3)."

"The butterfly effect: The notion that one tiny simple choice , the alteration of one minimal event could have kept me from sitting here at this moment (4). A different result that could have been better, worse, or equally indifferent. Really has no bearing on the fact that I'm here now, but it does provide a fertile field for playing the 'what if' game (5)."

"Is there any real reason I should feel bad about the way things are now (6)? I suppose, but only if I'm still feeling this sense of isolation and disconnect when I get home. Home. Home is not here. I guess this is now just where I used to live. There be no tiki in Metamora."

(1) Nice thought, but thus far it has been far from that easy in practice. I guess that one of the things this trip did was come close to shattering the unrealistic notions of the past that I have been holding on to for so long. Having the disparity of memory versus reality thrust into my face has really and deeply cracked all of those false notion even though I really don't like that. The whole idea of giving up on all those things from the past still makes me uncomfortable even though they are being proven to be valueless. Maybe it's the whole notion of needing to have something. Could also be the fear of having to be present in the present without a bunch of props holding me up.

(2) As much as I really enjoy the pure raw heat of the summer, I think fall may be my favorite season. May be the shifting of the sun lower in the sky but the colors seen to be more vibrant. The cool air is also something I find pleasant. And, of course, there's Halloween. And I have a number of memories regarding pleasant fall wanderings.

(3) Or not, for those of you who may be trying to slog through all this.

(4) For example: although you could conceptually clone Hitler, you could never duplicate all the events that made him who he was in the end. So, even though I could jump into the ol' time travelling DeLorean and go back to the time when I was attempting to date Number One, there are an infinite number of variables that were in play that I could not control. Therefore, no Groundhog Day for me.

(5) Mental masturbation at its finest and most pointless.

(6) I can't remember the context in which I was phrasing this. Not sure if I meant just the whole reunion scenario, or my overall life in general. Either way, I don't think I have a good answer, as usual.