Sparks & Secrets

I caught a glimpse of Jericho standing upon the walls a while back and ignored her because she was ignoring me.

When you are decades past chasing a Cheshire cat and his rabbit pal through the looking glass and into the hole you don’t rely upon logic or maturity.

You just follow your instinct knowing that you live in the upside down and inside out and you will not leave until you solve the thorniest or maybe easiest math problem you have ever encountered.

Perhaps that is why my trip into a different rabbit hole called family genealogy bothers me less than some others because what some call strange I see as normal because people aren’t rational or logical in their behavior.

Given my contradictory position of believing misanthropy is underrated and finding people endlessly entertaining/fascinating I am not surprised by simpler surprises which is to say unknown marriages on the family tree and the story behind these mystery relationships.

Sparks & Secrets

Got The Moody Blues singing in my ear intermixed with the echoes of Donnie Mac singing about the three men he admires most and I keep shaking my head.

Because dammit, I keep thinking about the father, son and holy ghost in a non religious sense ‘cuz hell it would be great to the the three prior generations 0f Wilner men here to answer a few questions.

I know I already know the answers to some of them…if I can only pull them from the shelves upon which I have placed them.

I know with the faintest of hints the memories will come roaring back like a herd of buffalo thundering upon the plains and I will feel foolish for having forgotten.

Other questions exist for which I believe to have never gotten answers because of things I never knew about.

Call it the joy of the unknown which leaves you no foundation to stand upon to ask questions because you never had any insight you were lacking information.

Some of these questions have mundane answers attached to them, were I only able to get them answered.

My best guess is most lie within that plane, but there may be others that do not and I am somewhat curious.

Somewhat being the operative word because not all knowledge is equal in status and significance and some things are better left unknown.

I have never forgotten being told by a friend that a different friend said I am exhausting.

It doesn’t bother me to be called exhausting because I know who I am and I imagine that some people can be worn out by me, but most if not all people can wear others out.

That is why we are closer with some than others.

What always bothered me is hearing second hand from someone because if you are a real friend you know that not only can you come to me with this, you should.

Or you should just walk away.

I am not interested in collecting people to say I have lots of friends. I am interested in being a good friend and knowing I have them.

If that is 1, 3, or 100 so be it.

I am always cognizant of those who just click with me and I with them and even more aware of the few who make it impossible to stay angry with.

When 50 Meets Almost 19

I can count on one hand the number of times my dad did any sort of workout with me as well as the number of times I saw him run.

My children won’t share that in common because they have grown up with a father who they knew would routinely play basketball, lift weights and engage in all sorts of other physical activity.

That is not to say I don’t have plenty of memories of an active father, but it is different. I remember many moments working around the house with him or him lying next to me looking up at a sink or sometimes a car.

I remember lots of moments of activity, but this was different.

Today the younger Mr. Wilner took his place on my right at the gym and pushed me to go harder on the elliptical.

He didn’t say anything in particular or try to taunt me. It is because I am competitive and having him or my daughter there always makes me go a little harder.

Truth is I am pleased if they can beat me at almost anything, but at the same time it is damn hard to know I probably am not going to outwork my son on the elliptical.

He is a runner and was on the cross country team and he is almost 19 while I am 50.

Still got him on the weights, he can’t come close to what I can do on most things. But the truth is he doesn’t care and if he did he could make up the difference in a relatively short time.

He doesn’t realize how easily he could, but that is his choice. He certainly isn’t weak as he has my frame and the natural strength that comes with it.

But great googly moogly, if he really understood what his body will do now if he asks it to…sometimes youth is wasted on the young huh. 😉