When you’re a 13 year-old boy sitting at a campfire singing Annie’s Song isn’t of particular interest unless your goal is to aggravate the guy playing the guitar who is trying to hit on another counselor.
So you might find ways to try to demonstrate your irritation with him especially when you know the girl he is trying to connect with will put her arm around you while she sings because it is a counselor kind of thing to do.
Some years later you’ll think about that moment and laugh and spend some time appreciating the lyrics because words are important to you.
Intermixed with the moment you’ll think of the day and conversations with those who could have grown up to be Fran Drescher had life been just a little bit different.
And then you’ll shake your head and wonder about 22 year mistakes and what the plan is or isn’t to correct them.
In my head I see the campfires of my past and picture some to come, got more songs I remember hearing and maybe half singing along with.
Had one hell of a week and got 85 percent of an answer to a huge question about the future and am stuck waiting for Monday to come so that I can gather more details and try to make big decisions based upon limited information.
Somewhere in the ether I can hear dad telling me not to worry too much because you never have as many details as you want so you make the best choice you can based upon what little you know.
So come Monday I’ll anxiously wait for a call to come, hoping it hits earlier than later in the day so I can gather more facts and assemble them within my internal spreadsheet for evaluation and digestion.
It is a funny thing to think about this because as I have aged I have grown far more concerned about not being impulsive and yet much more decisive about some stuff because I can change it on the fly.
Change it on the fly cracks me up, because I spent so much time trying to measure twice so I could cut once only to figure out it just doesn’t matter.
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Except there is one area in which I haven’t changed or if I have it is more of an evolution.
There are things I think I know about people and places in relationship to me.
Gut feelings that haven’t been given the full opportunity for long term testing on the regular but have been around long enough to provide some solid data.
Given a ride up and down and in and out more than a few times so it is not a test drive but the daily workout hasn’t been there so we haven’t figured out what parts might wear out…first.
I haven’t met any vigneron’s here in Texas, not when I lived in Grapevine or in any of the other places I have haunted around town.
But then again I haven’t visited a winery so it probably limits the opportunity to meet them on purpose or by chance.
In California I knew one for certain and think there might have been a couple more but I can’t remember with any sort of conviction.
Every now and then I have imagined that it would be kind of fun to engage in this as part of a retirement package and then I remember I am not a big wine drinker.
I enjoy it upon occasion, but my expertise there is quite limited.
Sometimes I think about expanding it as I am consumer of knowledge and enjoy expanding breadth and depth, but there are so many areas of interest and so little time.
Cue Plant and Krauss as I day dream about potential ideas for retirement be it today or tomorrow.
Into The Mystery We Go
Midnight approaches and the fatigue I felt just a short while ago is starting to lift and I can feel myself growing more alert.
Soon I’ll have to decide if I want to stay up all night or if I need to shut it down and dream about things yet to be and those that might.
Read an article earlier this week that said more pro athletes have begun regimens that are focused upon increasing the amount of sleep and regularity 0f hours.
It is supposed to aid in recovery and performance and I am thinking that I might need to try it out. Can’t hurt to try and it is free so what the hell.
But can’t say if I’ll start tonight because the words want to keep rolling and I need listen so I’ll tap upon the keys a bit long and see where it leads.
There is joy in the journey, is there not.
