He could feel it. That pulsating, building pressure behind his right eye. The muscles in his forearms tightened, relaxed and tightened again as he gripped the steering wheel. Jason wasn't really pressed for time. He was only fifteen minutes from work and he had more than forty minutes to arrive on time. Nor did he really have a problem with the traffic; it was no better, no worse than any other day. He knew that it all stemmed from the argument with his new bride the night before. He glared at the world around him from beneath his dark tresses and went over it all again in his head.
She was wrong. She had to be. If there was nothing else he knew about that fight, it was that he was right. It seemed simple to an outsider, sure, but Jason had to be right. And then it struck him like a lightning bolt, being right was all he was battling for. Going over the altercation for the umpteenth time in his head, he felt the shame wash over him.
"I'm such a jerk," he mumbled more to himself than any one or anything within earshot. He balled his right hand into a fist and punched the dashboard hard enough to break the skin on the knuckle to his middle finger. Ignoring the sting he looked up to see the light turning yellow and space in front of his '09 Honda. He pressed the gas pedal and thought he'd call Ashlie when he got to the office.
A movement to the left caught his eye. He casually turned his head as he was sliding through the intersection only to stare directly at the front grill of a quickly advancing CitiWorks dump truck.
"ASH-," barely escaped his lips as the deafening smack overtook all else.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
So what's with the name?
First off, I don't intend to write on this thing everyday. Get that idea out of your head right now. Doubtful I have either the ideas or the discipline to do so. However, today I have something in my brain. So lucky you!
My blog name makes little sense I'm sure. Those of you reading this that know me, both of you, probably just chalk it up to, "Ok, he's always been a little nuts...so it makes sense." Well, while that is true, my insanity plays little to the game here.
My first job with a paycheck was in the fields of Blueberry Acres, middle of Nowhere, Indiana. I pruned the bushes, and as the season went on, I picked blueberries for those too lazy to pick their own at a "U-pick" farm. The unspoken bonus to our paychecks was stuffing small handfuls of blueberries in our mouths when we weren't filling our buckets for Everett.
The best blueberries to pick were the dark, almost blue-black berries. They usually had the best flavor and all. But while those were truely good berries, my favorite were the slightly purple berries. Just a hint of red to say, "I'm not ripe yet!" They had that sour little kick to them. Really felt like it augmented the flavors of the fully ripe berries. Shoot, even sometimes the ones with a tiny bit of green that when set against the blue of the rest of the berry made them look like they had a white-ish flare were good to me. When Mom went to pick berries I would excite myself with picking out the unripened berries so her blueberry jelly would taste "better." Truth is I just wanted to eat the sour blueberries.
The wisdom is in how this reflects my life. Indeed it mirrors my outlook on the world, people and life in general almost perfectly. I've never done things according to acceptable norms. Sometimes I take pride in this, but as I grow older, it also tends to be a source of regret at times. From my dating and marraige to my wonderful Karen, my children's upbringing, to my eventual joining the Catholic Church and tastes in movies and music I turn the status quo on it's ear. When others are watching for big special effects or a well written story, I'm finding the artistic merit of the cinemtography, or the little hidden meanings some directors like to throw in for people like me. I took a side door into the Church really. It wasn't like I woke up one day and say "Hey! I'm going to be Catholic, now...let's go learn about the Church." No, I studies, tore apart and argued the Faith so that I could understand it. The initial goal was to even prove just how "right" I was to my clearly confused wife. Like all good Catholics, her answers of, "You don't ask why, you just accept it," never sat well with me. So I took it upon myself to learn as much as I could so that I could point out all the "errors" and how incredibly intelligent I was. What I found was that I wasn't nearly as smart as I thought I was. This could turn into an entirely different subject...or perhaps another blog for another day, eh?
Suffice it to say the name is to reflect all those "little things" that flavor the world and give that little wake up tang to my metal pallate. All the little observations, funny happenings and general disarray in my mind will find their way here. I will cover the obvious in my life, such as kids, angst, religion and politics. But who knows, might throw in a review for a book, movie or favorite pair of Fruit of the Looms. Enjoy the ride...
My blog name makes little sense I'm sure. Those of you reading this that know me, both of you, probably just chalk it up to, "Ok, he's always been a little nuts...so it makes sense." Well, while that is true, my insanity plays little to the game here.
My first job with a paycheck was in the fields of Blueberry Acres, middle of Nowhere, Indiana. I pruned the bushes, and as the season went on, I picked blueberries for those too lazy to pick their own at a "U-pick" farm. The unspoken bonus to our paychecks was stuffing small handfuls of blueberries in our mouths when we weren't filling our buckets for Everett.
The best blueberries to pick were the dark, almost blue-black berries. They usually had the best flavor and all. But while those were truely good berries, my favorite were the slightly purple berries. Just a hint of red to say, "I'm not ripe yet!" They had that sour little kick to them. Really felt like it augmented the flavors of the fully ripe berries. Shoot, even sometimes the ones with a tiny bit of green that when set against the blue of the rest of the berry made them look like they had a white-ish flare were good to me. When Mom went to pick berries I would excite myself with picking out the unripened berries so her blueberry jelly would taste "better." Truth is I just wanted to eat the sour blueberries.
The wisdom is in how this reflects my life. Indeed it mirrors my outlook on the world, people and life in general almost perfectly. I've never done things according to acceptable norms. Sometimes I take pride in this, but as I grow older, it also tends to be a source of regret at times. From my dating and marraige to my wonderful Karen, my children's upbringing, to my eventual joining the Catholic Church and tastes in movies and music I turn the status quo on it's ear. When others are watching for big special effects or a well written story, I'm finding the artistic merit of the cinemtography, or the little hidden meanings some directors like to throw in for people like me. I took a side door into the Church really. It wasn't like I woke up one day and say "Hey! I'm going to be Catholic, now...let's go learn about the Church." No, I studies, tore apart and argued the Faith so that I could understand it. The initial goal was to even prove just how "right" I was to my clearly confused wife. Like all good Catholics, her answers of, "You don't ask why, you just accept it," never sat well with me. So I took it upon myself to learn as much as I could so that I could point out all the "errors" and how incredibly intelligent I was. What I found was that I wasn't nearly as smart as I thought I was. This could turn into an entirely different subject...or perhaps another blog for another day, eh?
Suffice it to say the name is to reflect all those "little things" that flavor the world and give that little wake up tang to my metal pallate. All the little observations, funny happenings and general disarray in my mind will find their way here. I will cover the obvious in my life, such as kids, angst, religion and politics. But who knows, might throw in a review for a book, movie or favorite pair of Fruit of the Looms. Enjoy the ride...
Thursday, June 23, 2011
The first of many behind the times mental meanderings...
Ok, so...I've done it. I've decided to open my own "blog space." Who knows why. I did Myspace when it was new, but got way, way too many "Look at my nekkid pics!" invites to be comfortable anymore. I started doinking around on there, and moved to Facebook. Yeah, before Facebook was cool (but slightly after they allowed non .edu addresses to be accepted. So I'm cooler than you, but not as cool as I could be. LOL)
Anyway, the entire point of this is to get me writing again. I used to write prolifically in school. Granted, I'm 15+ years removed from that, but I'm looking forward this time. I know what I could do then, which means in theory I can do so again, but hopefully be better. I have two book ideas in my head. Frankly I think they are pretty nifty ideas...but then, I thought of them, so I should hope I think they are keen. Yeah, I said it, "Keen." Live with it. But I figure if I get myself writing, even nonsensical ravings in my mind, then I can slowly work towards actually sitting down and writing out more than "Chapter 1, It was a dark and stormy night."
I'm still figuring out what I'm going to be. I know who I am. But what I'm doing is an entirely different story. My life for 14 years has been dominated (as it should be) as my identity as a father. Nearly 9 of those years as a full-time stay at home Dad. Alex enters Kindergarten this fall. While this is a momentous occasion in our family, frankly it has me a little trepedatious of the wide open days ahead. Sure, I could sink a LOT of time into my games, or the web, Facebook or this blog...but Karen muttered something about "productive" and "beat your ass" in reference to "doing nothing." I dunno...when she looks at me a certain way, and her eyebrows draw closer together as they tilt downward, I tend to duck, cover and plug my ears. I kid, I kid, I never plug my ears.
So I've decided flat out that at this juncture in my life college is not for me. More on that another time. I'm looking at photography, taking a few classes so I know what I'm actually doing and going that route. Yet these book ideas keep resurfacing. I keep seeing not only a need for one of them, but an unspoken desire to read something of what I have been thinking about for so many years. So maybe this is just the subtle way of telling me, "It's time to focus, Michael. Sit down and get that stuff down on paper."
And thus, here I go. Welcome to the ride...(elipses intentional as there will be more to come.)
Anyway, the entire point of this is to get me writing again. I used to write prolifically in school. Granted, I'm 15+ years removed from that, but I'm looking forward this time. I know what I could do then, which means in theory I can do so again, but hopefully be better. I have two book ideas in my head. Frankly I think they are pretty nifty ideas...but then, I thought of them, so I should hope I think they are keen. Yeah, I said it, "Keen." Live with it. But I figure if I get myself writing, even nonsensical ravings in my mind, then I can slowly work towards actually sitting down and writing out more than "Chapter 1, It was a dark and stormy night."
I'm still figuring out what I'm going to be. I know who I am. But what I'm doing is an entirely different story. My life for 14 years has been dominated (as it should be) as my identity as a father. Nearly 9 of those years as a full-time stay at home Dad. Alex enters Kindergarten this fall. While this is a momentous occasion in our family, frankly it has me a little trepedatious of the wide open days ahead. Sure, I could sink a LOT of time into my games, or the web, Facebook or this blog...but Karen muttered something about "productive" and "beat your ass" in reference to "doing nothing." I dunno...when she looks at me a certain way, and her eyebrows draw closer together as they tilt downward, I tend to duck, cover and plug my ears. I kid, I kid, I never plug my ears.
So I've decided flat out that at this juncture in my life college is not for me. More on that another time. I'm looking at photography, taking a few classes so I know what I'm actually doing and going that route. Yet these book ideas keep resurfacing. I keep seeing not only a need for one of them, but an unspoken desire to read something of what I have been thinking about for so many years. So maybe this is just the subtle way of telling me, "It's time to focus, Michael. Sit down and get that stuff down on paper."
And thus, here I go. Welcome to the ride...(elipses intentional as there will be more to come.)
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