Pirates follow a different sort of code but I know from experience they understand what is meant by the kiss you remember but never speak of.
I came upon one on an island bar, bottle of rum in his hand and listened to him describe a woman he once knew.
“Red dress, blue dress- it doesn’t fucking matter she looked damn sexy in both.”
“Argh! She left you didn’t she matey! I’d say you ought to set sail for whatever parts she occupies and find your favorite wench!”
He pulled off his eye patch and for a moment I got a glare from the one good eye and the empty place that wasn’t ever filled and then he put his hands on his hips, laughed and told me he wouldn’t take advice from a man who didn’t have a giant set of brass balls.
I swept his peg leg out from under him and beat him with the parrot that had been perched upon his shoulder.
You might wonder If I am concerned about the consequences of admitting I beat a man with a bird and I’d shake my head.
I didn’t beat a man with two good legs, I beat a guy with a wooden one and one eye.
Granted that fucker carries a musket and a sword and is a certified corsair, but I am a Taurus and that is no bull.
A Magnetic Personality
I’m in the sort of mood in which June could yell at me at not being able to walk the line and I would do my best Johnny Cash and say no one can do a better job of walking a fucking line or dancing in a goddamn fire than me.
That shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone who really knows me or anyone who read the bit about the guy who beat a pirate with his own parrot.
Something about the moment reminded me of this clip and some other conversations. Lightning never strikes when you expect it to and it doesn’t matter if you’re Thor, the fucking God of Thunder some storms aren’t ever controlled or tamed.
You just hold on with both hands and hope the fucking beast doesn’t rip you in two.
My kids and I play HQ together and we keep coming close to winning the damn thing.
We miss one question and discover that had we not missed that one we would have taken it all because we got all of the other questions right.
It is a living life lesson where we are reminded of how easily the world spins on a dime.
One step to the left or a jump to the left and all is different, but the most important part isn’t which direction you go it is understand you don’t give up ‘cuz things get rough.
Dad is responding to the chemo and good things are happening but I am still a little nervous because we don’t have a reliable barometer for good.
Or more precisely, we don’t know how long that lasts for and I am torn.
Do I catch a flight sooner than I planned to try and take advantage of this time or do I plan a trip and hope all is good…still.
When people ask I tell them we can’t plan control this, we can only navigate and that we have to take advantage of the good times when they come.
The Secret Worlds We Pass Through
Prior to passing out the pirate asked me how I knew so much and I told him I have tasted life and been thrown off of a cliff and bounced all the way down.
“She fucked you up a little bit, huh.”
“I don’t know, maybe we did that to each other or maybe not. Maybe the part that got fucked up was an Adam and Eve kind of thing. Ya know, the moment where you realized you had been living in a paradise and now you are not.”
He bellowed out another argh and some other choice pirate words and said I shouldn’t beat off my frustrations upon him.
“I am a gentleman sir and I would never engage in such foul debauchery.”
He spit out a tooth and laughed at me this time I was the one who cursed.
Tonight I stood in the gym and had the odd sensation of feeling weak.
Most of the time I walk through there knowing the one thing I can always do is throw iron around. I might not have as much stamina or raw power as I once did but there is still a lot of horsepower under the hood.
Except this time it didn’t feel like it and I couldn’t blame it upon exhaustion or illness.
I walked towards the mirror and for a moment I thought I saw my father or grandfather shuffling forward.
“One day…maybe, but not today.”
The reflection didn’t respond and so I walked to the treadmill, climbed upon it and wondered.
I hear rumors and stories about what people plan on doing for their 50th birthdays and I find myself wondering If I will celebrate with them.
That is another peculiar thing that puzzles me because it is not something I usually concern myself with.
I don’t wonder or worry about what parties I am or am not invited to. If people want me to come and I can I often do.
If I don’t get an invitation I rarely wonder if it was something I did or didn’t do.
But I get the sense that won’t suit me across the board. It irks me a bit because it is juvenile, but I suppose sometimes we all have feelings.