Monday, October 23, 2006

Book Titles by R.B. Trary

Remember as a kid, those cheesy book titles followed by their extra cheesy authors? You know...

...Yellow River by I.P. Freely

Under The Bleachers by Semour Butz, etc.?

Well, today I thought of a few, more up to date versions...

-The Press Is Always Right by Condy Cending

-No First Names by Anderson Cooper

-Where Have All The Soldiers Gone? by Tupac Tharebags

-There Were No Weapons by Reed Mylips

-It Comes Back Around by Boomer Ang

-Hiding In The White House by Juneau Wariam

-What Did You Step In? by Ishmael Sinnear

-Tracking Bin Laden by Chase N. Araynbo

-I Am Not A Snob by Art C. Fahrtse

-This Time We'll Get Him by Terry Gozagen

-Whistles In My Head by Wendy Windblows

-He's Still President by Wyatt Neverwerks

-Hillary's Last Dance by Ben Thayer and Don That

-Mission Accomplished by Ugatta B. Kidden

-You're Gorgeous George! by Wendell Ites-Gowowt

...I'm sure you guys can think of some more. Come on! This'll be fun :)

Saturday, October 14, 2006

My Own Fog

It was foggy today. It was a lingering, heavy fog. The forecast said it might blow off, it might not. It seems as though that same fog has infiltrated my heart of late. I don't know how to explain it really, but it's a heavy, lingering fog. It's a funny thing, fog. Each particle of mist, in and of itself is hardly discernible, but when they gang up and hold hands you can scarcely see your hand in front of your face.

Well, the particles have slowly been sneaking into my life, seemingly undetected, certainly not invited or properly addressed and they seem intent on making it hard to see anything clearly. And they're succeeding.

Not one day goes by where this sentence doesn't come into play at some point: "If I had loved well I wouldn't be here right now." Now, I realize that any good relationship is all about give and take...Simultaneously. So did I give too much? Did I take too little? Did I take too much? These questions haunt me. Will I ever get a definitive answer? No. But my empty house silently screams to me, "Why does it matter? The fact is, you failed." I have no answer. And a particle sneaks in.

I love my kids with all of my heart. If I had more heart I'd give them that too. My 15 year old son has a beautiful heart buried in confusion and anger. He has been the source of more frustration in my life than I thought was possible. We misunderstand each other gravely. Nothing hurts like being misunderstood by someone you love. My intentions for him are filled with a deep love reserved for my children, yet through his eyes I look like the devil's brother. Nothing I do or say seems to matter. The fog thickens.

I'm alone. Duh. That's why I'm spilling pathetic, forlorn words out into the internet. As pathetic as it sounds, I'm downright lonely sometimes. I walk around here singing schmaltzy songs that make me laugh. Songs about candy corn and Snickers and in the background a lonely candle flickers (see. I told you they were schmaltzy!) . You see, I realize that I'm nothin' extraordinary. If anything, I'm extraordinarily ordinary, but I have a heart to give away. I firmly believe that a heart can't be won...It must be given. I want to sing schmaltzy songs and laugh and dance and hold hands and enjoy being myself with someone while we give our hearts away to each other. But I'm still afraid of failing; of misunderstanding; of being misunderstood; of not getting through. I'm paralyzed in the fog.

The fog is thick. Tomorrow's forecast says it might blow off, it might not.

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Life out the door

I used to wonder as a kid, what my dad saw and thought and did during a day at work. Maybe someday my kids will wonder the same thing, so I take my camera with me sometimes to chronicle the what I saw part of my day. These last few weeks we've been blessed with some enormously beautiful days. Here's a sampling of what I get to look at out the open door of my truck.

Isn't it perrrrty?

Maybe even...artistic?