brother of mine

Regret and discontent. I tremble in my sleep, awake before I dream. The sins of my ancestors are close to my heart, inescapable. What I've become is preordained. My life was lived once before, in pieces.

The emotions we hide--they aren't hidden, but just misunderstood and uninterpretable. Emotions we least expect creep up on us and surprise us. And in these moments of clarity and confusion, what will we do?

I'll tell you about my hidden and subtle discontent, seeping to the surface in unexpected gushes of unwanted metaphor. I'm anxious by nature, fidgety and discontent. But moments of peace catch me by surprise. Often they occur at night, when the busy world is silent, and I walk alone, surrounded by the noises of Creation - crickets, birds, wind and rain.

mighty mouse

I don't have many friends. Some people think this strange, especially considering my many acquaintances. But I don't. I don't think it's strange at all. I'd bet that most people don't have many friends. That is, someone who:

1) You can share silence
2) Your conversations are not dominated with sentences that start "remember when we..."
3) You are honest about politics
4) When they ask you "how are you" you tell them the truth.
5) Knows when you are lying


Matthew visited about a year ago. And I reflected on his visit any my relations to others a little later.

I just returned from a visit to the mountains, where I met my friends (see above) for a weekend of camping, horseback riding (more on that later), and fishing.

We left Denver Thursday morning and drove to our camp site. I'd tell you where it is, but some things are too special to share. To give you a rough idea, leave Denver and drive east on I-70 until you hit Glenwood Springs, then hang a left. Take the 133 south for a while and then make a left onto the gravel road which winds through the mountains. Take that for about 30 minutes and then you're there. Rumor has it that you should avoid drinking too many drinks before "shittin' and a gettin' it" down the gravel road. Sloppy stomachs don't appreciate switchbacks and S-curves.

You'll know you're in the right spot when you see the river on your right:



And the snow capped mountains on your left:

I'm not the outdoorsy type. I like showers, Tivo, and ice cubes. I enjoy going to bed without wondering if my dreams will be interrupted by a grizzly bear licking my nose. And going to the bathroom should never entail bringing a shovel.

But I'll be damned if I didn't enjoy my trip. Mostly, it was nice to spend some time with my friends, despite the no-shower thing. (To the lady at Starbucks who served me coffee on our way home - I don't always smell like that).

And I did something I've never done before. I rode a horse. Two of my friends are horse fluent. Actually, they're real-life cowboys. They even spent a morning on our camping trip helping a local rancher look for his lost cows.

These so called "friends" of mine thought it proper to teach me to ride a horse by scaring the shit out of me. Literally. They took me up the mountains, where we rode our horses up steep inclines, over downed trees, through rushing rivers, and down sheer cliffs. I'm honestly not making this up. And there I was, two inches from death, my horse tripping on an downed tree, hanging onto the edge of 90 foot cliff . I was certain things were going to end badly and the first thought I had was, "Matthew is the dumbest son of a bitch I've ever met."

Mighty Mouse saved my life. We might never be friends, but I'm still appreciative.


Matthew, Josh, and I met nearly 10 years ago. We've changed. I suppose everyone does. But for me, there's nothing quite as special as friends who remain though changes, friends that don't vanish after a season, but are around to sit with you and watch the leaves change again and again and again. Friends who teach you to ride a horse much like my father taught me to drive a car: sit in front of the wheel and figure it out you punk-ass-sonofabitch-know-it-all kid.

I'm already looking forward to our next meeting. Whenever it may be. Until then: sleep well, eat pork (it's better for you than chicken), hope for cheaper diesel, and read a good book.

i wish my name was tiger

I started playing golf when I was 11 years old. In high school, my claim to fame was that I was the captain of the golf team. Tons of chicks.

These days, I'm just a hack. I remember the days I used to shoot good scores and take money from old men. Now I'm the old man.

Golf is a funny game. I have more fun now that I used to. I'm not nearly as proficient at the game as I once was, but I don't really care. I'd rather play alone than with people. Other golfers annoy me. I don't go to the course to talk or hang out. God gave us bars and whiskey for conversation. Golf is entirely different. Don't poison my good walk spoiled with idle chatter. I want to be alone with my thoughts, my memories, and my ping golf bag.

corn

I had an interesting conversation with a friend over lunchtime burritos. Ethanol sucks.
Of course, we didn't let any facts get in the way of a good conversation. Ethanol sucks.

Let's think about this: if you use corn for gas, then there's going to be a run on corn. A run on corn = everything we fat americans eat is more expensive (high fructose corn syrup is in everything), the price of chicken goes up (chickens eat corn feed), and the price of prime rib goes up (guess what cows eat??). In short - ethanol makes everything we eat cost more.

What's worse is that I've read articles which indicate producing ethanol actually consumes more oil than what you save by using it to drive your car - it takes a ridiculous amount of energy to convert corn into alcohol (and hence the premium price you pay for a good bourbon like Makers Mark).

I'm a liberal hack. I like the environment. Hell, I even believe in Global Warming. But ethanol sucks. I want nothing more than to reduce America's dependence on oil. But ethanol isn't the answer. Save the corn for my booze.

Save the Corn!

home

We plan our lives. Don't lie to yourself. Everyone has ambitious plans and ambitious dreams. We want our children to live better lives than ours; less financial stress, less pain, less confusion, fewer Republicans.

Our plans never work out.

top 5

What is your top 5 most played on your iPod? Here's mine:
1) i will follow you into the dark, Death Cab for Cutie
2) notice, Gomez
3) poison oak, Bright Eyes
4) burn, Ray LaMontagne
5) see the world, Gomez

level out

All my friends and sedatives mean well, but make it worse
My doubt is always magnified
My cocaine soul is a cabaret


I often stand outside and ponder thoughts words cannot describe
My feet feel soft grass or hard rocks or smooth pavement
I listen
And hope I'm not being too dramatic

Smells I remember linger