Stop. Breathe in. Exhale. Now, I want you to think about something for a second. I want you to think about a piece of clothing in your closet that, to you, is your comfort. I mean, that one piece of clothing that, as you look at it you think, “Man, I love wearing that thing!” and you put it on and you sit around the house and don’t give a crap what anybody thinks about it or how it looks. Do you have it in your mind? That old ratty t-shirt? That beat up pair of jeans? That soft sweater? Okay. Good. Imagine it for a second. Now, why is it your “comfort”? I’m willing to bet that it’s not because of the way it fits (or doesn’t fit) on you. It’s probably not because of the way the cloth feels on you. I’ll take a bet it’s because of the way it makes you feel. It may be a shirt from an old lover and, if for even a moment, you swear you can smell them on it again. Or maybe it’s a pair of shorts that have survived ten summers, and you can’t help but smile every time

Continue readingYou burned like a rocket from the womb to the world, and you ignited everything like a gasoline rain

Ahh, so it’s snowing again. Not nearly as bad this time, but there it is, the white crystalized water that I’ve come to dread in my old age. I don’t suppose I’ll ever enjoy it the same way I used to, now that I’ve actually had to deal with it.  And in a way, I feel like one more little nugget of innocence from youth has been destroyed. Or maybe I’ve just become cynical. Who knows? But you know what? I’m not worrying about it. Today, I’m choosing to enjoy the snow, believe it or not. I’m sitting in front of the fireplace, I’m reading a good book, and I have a bowl of chili and some french bread. I have some great music playing in the background, it’s Sunday, and I’ve got nothing to do. For the moment, life is grand.

On a Friday, at 5pm, it’s relatively rare to be able to sit down while on the bus. In fact, it’s exceedingly rare to have a seat to yourself. But on this particular Friday, for reasons unknown, I’m able to sit by myself and without interruption. And thus, I write. I needed a place to sit tonight. It’s been a long week, for reasons I have no intention of explaining. My friends have been struggling, and because of this, I struggle along with them. Not out of obligation, but because they need me. And I need them. I’m excited to get home, and get ready. My band has a show tonight down at Ash Street Saloon, and I’m excited to play. I always enjoy playing, to be honest, even if it’s just by myself in the confines of my office. But there’s something electric about playing in front of a crowd. To feel the heavy thump of the bass, the blaring sounds of the guitar, and the drums kicking me in my chest; it’s like nothing I can compare it to. The bus is traveling through Ladd circle now, and we’re passing the rows of victorian style houses on both

Continue readingThe Bus Chronicles, Part 2

I received an e-mail from a friend today. It was about optimism and hope. I felt that I should write about it, a response if you will, partially because I know she’ll see it, and mostly because her writing forced me to take pause in my day to day. That’s an amazing thing, if you stop and consider it (ha!). How often, in your daily life, do you drop everything for even a second, and strive to absorb every word of something that someone is trying to tell you? I’d wager that it is rare for most of us. To stop someone in their tracks, even for the briefest of moments, is like touching their soul. In a part of her letter, she spoke of helping the homeless. Having been homeless, I felt I could provide a decent amount of insight to the hope that she spoke of. Instead of writing something new, I’m including something I wrote when I was homeless. I’ve never shared it with anyone, as I’ve always been reluctant in letting anyone know most of what happened to me then, but I feel comfortable enough sharing this piece.   I made it to St Louis today,

Continue readingSanity may be madness but the maddest of all is to see life as it is and not as it should be

To say that I’m upset is an understatement. I just feel like I need to rant and rave and carry on, and I’m angry. Very angry. I want to pick up my guitar and destroy the plate glass window in my office, and for bonus points, maybe hurt myself in the process. Don’t worry. I won’t. I’ve had many people in my past, friends, girlfriends,  relatives, etc. say that I can calm them in the most dire of situations. That they have a sense of peace whenever they are around me. I’ve heard that many times in my life. Many. Times. I have this “aura” about me, or energy, or whatever metaphysical hippie bullshit you want to call it. Either way, the sentiment is always the same. I’ve always believed it to be a great skill and one I use a lot in tense situations. My dad has even made comments to that effect, and he’s a person that normally can’t be calmed once he’s reached any real level of anger. So why can’t I ever calm myself down? I have a long fuse, but I finally feel like all these thoughts in my head have me lit, and I’m

Continue readingI used to wake up behind the wheel, I used to hurt before I could heal

It’s right around 7pm, and as I write this, I’m on the trimet bus heading home. I won’t be there until very near 8pm, and that’s okay. I need that time to decompress and lose some of the poison that tends to seep in during a long day at work. I’m glancing around and seeing the other riders. You can tell they’re all tired and they’ve all had a long day. A quiet camaraderie exists between each, and every once in a while someone will exchange a knowing glance with me. We’re the middle class warriors, the people who devote a large portion of their life to work, with very little to show for it. There’s a man standing in front of me, and he’s just about the get off the bus. He has a an old Mamiya camera hung around his neck, and it looks to be from the late 60’s or early 70’s. I wonder what brought him to this particular bus on this particular night. I can see the Portland skyline rescinding behind me, and the low thrumb of the bus engine can be felt in my seat, just audible through my headphones. Pedestrians and bikers walk

Continue readingThe Bus Chronicles, Part 1

I’ve been rereading some books by Carl Sagan, and thoroughly enjoying everything he has ever said. To say that he was intelligent is an understatement, and in a hundred lifetimes, I will never be as accomplished and as amazing as he was. I came across a quote of his from the book “Cosmos”, and decided I needed to share it. I hate to post and run, but this was all I had to say for now. We have held the peculiar notion that a person or society that is a little different from us, whoever they are, is somehow strange or bizarre, to be distrusted or loathed. Think of the negative connotations of words like alien or outlandish. And yet the monuments of cultures of each of our civilizations merely represent different ways of being human. An extraterrestrial visitor, looking at the differences among human beings and their societies, would find these differences trivial compared to the similarities. The Cosmos may be densely populated with intelligent beings. But the Darwinian lesson is clear: There will be no humans elsewhere. Only here. Only on this small planet. We are a rare as well as an endangered species. Every one of us

Continue readingAll these paper walls will burn, the day you finally turn away

The subject line of this post is from a song called, “What If” by Floater. Whenever I hear it (and I do listen to it a lot), I’m always reminded of the time that I spent hitchhiking across the country. Honestly, when I get all old and wrinkled, I would like to be the old man out on the highway, hoping for the next ride from some kind stranger. In a lot of ways, I’ve spent most of my life wandering and looking. Looking for what, I have no real idea. I guess that’s why I’m still unsatisfied and still searching for that next great high. I don’t suppose the search ever really ends, and honestly, I’m not sure I’d ever want it to. Despite what a lot of people will tell you, I didn’t ever feel threatened when I was hitchhiking. Certainly some of the drivers were a little stranger than others, but that’s a given in almost any situation. I loved the nights at 2am when a random stranger would pick me up, and quite literally tell me their entire life story. It was fascinating some of the things people will talk about in the company of a

Continue readingThere’s an old man out on the highway, and in his face a thousand futures all laid out

I was sitting in my car in the parking lot of Fry’s Electronics yesterday. I was getting a CD in the player, and organizing some of the stuff in the console and things like that. I glanced up to see a couple walking out of the McDonald’s fifty or so feet in front of me. Along with them, there was a little girl, probably about five or six years old. I could see that the parents looked… well, they looked like they were upset, but that wasn’t the impression that I got. There was just something off about the entire exchange. The parents were walking apart in such a way that they didn’t even want to feel the presence of the other. The girl was apparently oblivious to their distance. I think that that is the magic of being a kid, though. Not being aware that your life is being torn apart beneath you. I could tell that the parents had recently divorced, and all I needed to see was the way they walked together. The little girl was trying to hold both of their hands, but they were walking at an awkward enough of a pace together that it

Continue readingI’m off the floor one more time to find you

So I’ve gotta ask anyone that’s reading this (please comment if you have an opinion)… what’s it like to have a mother when you’ve grown up? My mom died when I was 17, and it just bugs the hell out of me how much of my life she has missed. She didn’t see my graduation from high school, or my first “real” job, apartment, house, wife, divorce (heh), or otherwise. There are so many life events that happen in those years, and she was gone from them. I’m not really looking for bad stories from all you folks, I just wish I had some kind of comparison to go by. My dad has been around for everything, and for that I’m grateful. He’s the best dad I’ve ever met, and I mean that. I’m lucky enough that he wasn’t led by example by his father. Some time ago my dad said to me (after his mom, my grandma, almost died), “I don’t know what I’d do without her. I need my mom.” And honestly, I can’t help but feel the same way. I need my mom, and tonight I’m feeling cheated. All I have are memories of her; pictures and

Continue readingWe’re just two lost souls swimmin’ in a fish bowl… year after year…