A Monday Morning Recollection

At many times since I've left Louisville, my IPod replays a small, verbal essay my friend Tina gave me during a project of collecting student philosophies. Tina was the one who encouraged me to swim deeper in the Atlantic Ocean of St. Augustine the year after we were visited by a tiny, Hammerhead Shark. She bought me a magnet that read, "Leap And The Net Will Appear." It is on my fridge, today.

I love when her words come to my ear. They are better than most of the music I listen to. Her audio acts as a photograph of sorts. Today, I share her voice with you.

Poison Ivy

My trombone-playing nephew has decided he's going to go to Yale University when he's older. Cynde told him he should talk to his Uncle Bryan about attending and Dylan asked, "Why? Can he write me a gift certificate?"

Actually, we're all banking on his future as a symphonic trombone player and the scholarships that will come.

76 Trombones lead his big parade. 101 Coronets close behind!

Maria! Maria!

Heidi described to me that when you enter a Ph.D program it is like entering a universe that is comparable to Hogwarts. One of my fellow soldiers defended her dissertation today successfully and all her hard work has finally allowed her to wear an $1100 graduation gown with pride - totally deserved.

There is no other way to describe the identity restructuring of such mental labor than quirky, and Maria is a Queen of quirkiness in my world. Her research on inventive spelling of kindergarten students has me thinking deeply about the growth a young child experiences in their youngest, schooling years. Hired by SUNY OSWEGO and loved by all her Syracuse University family, this post is a celebration of her achievement.

Today, Maria continues to be one of my multiple heroes! Way to go! I celebrate the human being you are!

When the Begeeshus is scared out of you.

My friend Tricia asked me to pick up a few donations for charity that her daughter outgrew, including a Disney Vanity Set that talks and tells little girls the perks of looking beautiful and wearing makeup. Knowing my schedule was rather hectic and I wouldn't be able to get her donation to a church or Catholic Charities, I stored it in my garage.

Last night, when I returned home, I entered my garage and I thought I was being robbed. A princess voice yelled, "Oh, you smell wonderful!" and it scared me half to death. I'm not used to hearing voices in my garage and I jumped back startled. I thought Ariel from the Little Mermaid was attacking me and I was about to have lipstick shoved into my eye. Startling.

I suppose I live a rather tranquil life, but last night, I thought I was going to be killed by Cinderella. Not a fun greeting to my normally quiet home. My heart is still racing.

Double, double toil and trouble

On my microwave, I have a stash of lupine seeds I salvaged from my outdoor plants before the first frost. The goal is to freeze them, then nick them in the spring and replant them.

My sister saw them and asked what they were. I imagined she had some jest for illegal substances, but she and Nikki both thought they were the tails of mice. I thought, "Now that would be cool. If only I could create spells out of my lil' North Syracuse home. That could be fun."

1 WITCH. Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd.
2 WITCH. Thrice and once, the hedge-pig whin'd.
3 WITCH. Harpier cries:—'tis time! 'tis time!
1 WITCH. Round about the caldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.—
Toad, that under cold stone,
Days and nights has thirty-one;
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot!

Where the Wild Things "Is"

I saw the trailer for this film a month ago during the Potter movie and, for some reason, I'm intrigued. The children's book was never one of my favorites, but it was always on my mind for its playful imagination and exploration of a world beyond this one. There's something magical about that and, perhaps, that's why I am rather excited to see this in the theaters.

Because I removed a spot on my rug with a new cleaning product, I was able to send my receipt to their company and was lucky to receive a free movie ticket from them. Luck comes in odd promotions.

I believe I will take myself to see this film with this ticket. A day with stuffed, teddy bear monsters seems like a good way to spend a couple of life's hours.

Dear Mr. Fartso

Dear Mr. Fartso,

I am writing you today because you called yesterday when I was walking the dog. At one point, we discussed the ubiquitous need to smile WIDE when life is rather crappy - and for a little bit of the journey, we were able to smile on a whole team of wide-grinned optimists as we trekked across razor blades and raw sewage on a sojourn of hope. We took our pain and made our teeth beautiful.

And I'm thinking of you and the lemons that come from growing older, from the forks in the human road of meaning, and from the quirky intellect it takes to make sense of the senseless every step of the way. I used to teach my students that aging doesn't ease the crap. It just gives you new tools for contending with the crap.

Last night, I ate an apple dessert (a follow up to yesterday's post of Johny Appleseed). I cored five apples and sprinkled them with cinnamon and brown sugar. I baked them for 20 minutes, then covered them with a box of spice cake and sprinkled the top with butter (half a stick...maybe a whole one - who cares?). I baked it for another twenty to thirty minutes. It's became a crunch. I now eat it over vanilla icecream.

Mr. Fartso, I command you to do the same. When life is lame, remember it's a game. Eat a dessert. It will assist the need for a wide smile later in life when you don't feel like being so politically correct.

Bryan

PS: For those of you who don't know Mr. Fartso, it doesn't matter. He knows who he is and how to soak the morrow from this posting. Mr. Fartso is any of us who are asked to tap dance during a funeral. It's not right, but it's the way the business sector works. Mr. Fartso composes music with piano. I try to compose with words. Both make wallowing in the compost more harmonious. If you want to sing out, sing out, strums Cat Stevens. This is a note to sing out on Tuesday.