Of All The….

I’ve always liked the movie Casablanca, which is kinda odd since I don’t especially get into old movies especially black & white movies from long ago. But there is something romantic about Casablanca….just saying it conjures up images.

The World War 2 classic tells the story of refugees from war ravaged Europe finding their way to Casablanca in hopes of securing a flight to freedom and eventually the United States. Everyone appears to be trying to leave Casablanca except Rick who seems quite happy running the most popular bar in the city. Everything seems fine with Rick, he let’s the police chief win at roulette, he looks the other way when certain activities happen in his bar and he seems unbothered by the larger world around him….until she walks in.

The stunningly attractive Ilsa and Rick had a past relationship which the memory of comes crashing back to Rick the moment he sees her. Later as he drinks the night away and laments her arrival he utters ruefully…..

“of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.”

Perfect, absolutely perfect….

Who amongst us hasn’t felt that pain when an old love reemerges with a new companion. Rick had hoped that disappearing to Casablanca would shield him from ever having to see her again, but old loves never really go away.

The heartache, the pain, the feelings of abandonment are always just beneath the surface. Rick eventually handles it admirably and I’m quite sure I’ll never run into an old lover in my small Michigan town but I’ve always wanted to be half into a bottle of booze and mutter the line about gin joints, old lovers and fateful meetings.

Peace and Love,

John

The Times They Are…..

I recently saw the Bob Dylan biopic “A Complete Unknown” Yes, I know it came out a couple of years ago and despite my interest in seeing it at the theater it came and went in my small town before I got there.

And so it was with great delight that I happened to be mindlessly flipping TV channels and somehow stumbled across it. I didn’t catch the very beginning but I certainly didn’t miss much. When I tuned in Bob was in New York in the 60’s playing his guitar and beginning to make a name for himself.

Now I must admit I never grew up as a Dylan fan. As a child of the 70’s & 80’s my musical interests back then was Top 40 pop rock and some limited knowledge of rock and roll in the 60’s like the Beatles or the Rolling Stones. My parents were never into rock music and pretty much considered anyone to be making music in the 60’s & 70’s to be long haired hippies who were probably on drugs.

My Dad listened to Am radio which consisted of news, information and sports events. When he did flip the dial to the FM it was for instrumental music which was also commonly known as elevator music. My Mom’s musical taste was Neil Diamond and Barry Manilow. I still know the words to a lot of Neil Diamond songs and I can definitely sing most of Copacabana from Barry Manilow. Although now it’s quite to humorous to admit my knowledge of Neil Diamond and Barry Manilow songs, back when I was in high school it was definitely not something I was bragging about.

I knew a few Bob Dylan songs but most of his music simply didn’t appeal to me. It wasn’t really played on Top 40 radio and folk music seemed like a genre from a totally different generation, a generation I didn’t come from and didn’t understand.

One of my favorite parts of the movie was him singing at a folk music festival. He strummed his guitar and sang the song….The Times They are A-Changin

I have a little better understanding of what Bob Dylan meant to music and the generation of people coming of age in the 60’s. It was a defining time in our country’s history. An unpopular war was splitting the country, trust in government and other institutions was fraying. Racism and it’s effects still plagued most of the country. So when Dylan strummed his guitar and sang about times a-changin I have to believe alot of people looked forward to that time.

I sit at my laptop each morning and scan the headlines. The problems of the 60’s don’t seem that different from today’s problems. In fact if you didn’t know better you might say we haven’t really solved much since Dylan sang of times a-changin. But at least once a week I click on YouTube and listen to that song.

It’s funny, even though I just recently turned 60, in many ways I feel like the young people of previous generations still waiting for change, hoping for resolutions to problems that nobody really wants to solve.

So…… “gather round people wherever you roam,

the times they are a-changin”……

I hope so Bob, I really do.

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Peace and Love,

John

The Keys are Calling

I’ve always enjoyed reading books and short stories by Ernest Hemingway. He wrote of far away places, of Paris and Spain after World War I, hunting in Africa, short stories of time spent in my own state of Michigan.

Besides traveling around Michigan I’ve yet to travel to any of those exotic places described by Hemingway. In my younger days I wanted to travel to Spain and enjoy the festival he describes in the book The Sun Also Rises. I have no interest in attending a bull fight but I always thought it would be cool to run with the bulls through the streets trying to stay upright while avoiding the horns of a massive angry bull in some kind of wild delusional test of courage.

Now my 60 year old self is less enthused about the idea of running with out of control animals but that’s probably due to my creaky knees and the fact that I would need at least 20 minutes to warm-up to get my body ready to propel myself forward in anything more than a brisk walk.

I recently fell into a YouTube rabbit hole of watching videos of people exploring places in Paris where Hemingway ate and drank. In fact there’s an entire tour that can take Hemingway enthusiast to his favorite watering holes. The idea of wandering around Paris getting a drink at each little cafe or bar would be a wonderful way to spend an afternoon. Sure the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre are must see attractions but close behind for me at least would be a cafe where Hemingway sat and wrote.

I recently discovered that Hemingway’s house in Cuba has been perfectly preserved and is open to tour. He lived there with his third and fourth wives for many years (he had as many houses as wives). He left suddenly after the revolution that led to Castro’s rise to power. When he left he assumed he would be back someday so he left all his personal affects as if leaving for a vacation. His clothes still hang in the closet, his eyeglasses on the nightstand, his toothbrush in the bathroom. A moment in time perfectly preserved.

As it seems highly unlikely I’ll be jetting off to Europe or visiting Cuba anytime soon, I’ve focused my attention on the place Hemingway lived and wrote for many years….Key West. That tropical set of islands at the southern most tip of the country was barely a tourist destination when Hemingway and his second wife settled there. He wrote in the warm mornings, fished in the afternoons and drank in the evenings. His carefully curated image of himself as the best fisherman, best fighter, best drinker and writer was largely forged during this time in Key West.

I remember being quite small perhaps 8 years old when we went on a family vacation to Florida to visit my uncle. I vaguely remember we took a drive to Key West and stayed for a few days. I don’t have many memories of that entire vacation, in fact it was so long ago I think the only evidence of it is some slides my Mom kept for many years. Once a year we would get out the slide projector and have a family night of looking at old vacation slides. Don Draper was right about the slide projector (if your not sure of that reference go to YouTube).

What I do remember is my Dad wanted to go to the bar where Hemingway hung out, I believe it’s called Sloppy Joe’s. Being quite small and not having read any Hemingway I was more curious about all the chickens that ran free throughout the city. Key West might have been at the forefront of the whole cage free, free range chicken craze and that was back in the 70’s.

Key West has become almost a bucket list place for people to visit, a destination all unto itself for the Instagram generation to snap pictures of sunsets and markers that proclaim your as far south as you can be in the country. I dare say most people who visit aren’t likely to care much about an old writer who drank too much, cheated on all his wives and wrote of long ago time and places, but when I visit I’ll seek out his old haunts as my father did and try to avoid the chickens.

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Peace and Love,

John

It Defined Me….

Daily writing prompt

Describe a phase in life that was difficult to say goodbye to.

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I was on the verge of turning 33. Too young for a mid-life crisis or deep existential awakening but having been married for 3 years I came to the realization that I desperately needed a hobby, preferably one that got me out of the house for hours at a time. It was at this point that I took up long distance running.

I’m not sure exactly why I turned to distance running besides the fact that it fit my two criteria, get me out of the house and it took lots of time. Whenever I would see people running down the road it seemed like an activity that they didn’t seem to be enjoying. Runners always appeared to have a pained look on their face that seemed to ask “why am I really doing this ?” Perhaps the real reason, if they were being truthful, was that they needed a hobby that got them out of the house for hours at a time.

Admittedly my journey to distance running does seem a bit strange in retrospect. I had never run on the track or cross country team in high school and although I worked out and was in relatively good shape, running wasn’t something I did consistently, but I had always been intrigued by distance running and the ability to train to endure pain and discomfort that seemed to accompany distance running. And quite frankly it fit my personality of enjoying solitary pursuits in some grand quixotic activity. I had always been amazed at the story of the first marathon runner, a messenger in an ancient war who ran 26 miles from the plains of Marathon to deliver the news of a great victory…..he collapsed and died soon after, a Homeric death if there ever was one.

Initially I told no one of my new passion besides my wife. Partly because I wasn’t really sure how long I would commit to it and partly because I knew people would become puzzled and confused about my desire to do an activity that left me exhausted and uncomfortable. Eventually I did begin telling people of my plans to run a marathon. People I told would be silent for a moment with a confused and puzzled look on their faces, before eventually saying something like “now why would you do that ?”

But once I started doing it, I loved it. I bought magazines, yes magazines, that were devoted solely to distance running and all aspects of training. I studied training programs, experimented with different workouts, trained before work then switched and tried training after work to see what was more effective, before work was way more easier to accomplish effective or not. I bought running shoes and then more shoes. My wife stopped accompanying me to the shoe store knowing I would be there for at least an hour trying on shoes and talking training, despite my obvious bribe of taking her to dinner afterwards.

Running became who I was and what I did… it defined me in ways I was sure non runners could never understand. And when I lined up at the starting line of my first marathon with 20,000 other runners I knew I had found my people and my passion.

One marathon led to another and then another, even traveling out of state and meeting up with an old college buddy who had also discovered distance running. And of course there were shorter races almost every weekend in my area. I started noticing the same familiar faces at each starting line, and I soon began to realize who was fast and who I could realistically beat.

When my wife became pregnant one of the baby shower gifts was a running stroller so I could keep running and take my son with me, perhaps my first bit of parental multitasking it accomplished two very important tasks, giving my wife a break and getting my son a nap as he soon fell asleep in the motion of the rolling stroller.

I soon began going to races pushing him in the stroller, no longer preoccupied with being fast, I took great joy in passing as many other runners as possible while pushing a stroller. After a couple of years my son outgrew the stroller, his legs were dangling over the edges. It was at about this time I tried to get back to marathon training. Perhaps it was fate or simply trying to do too much too soon but I quickly developed a stress fracture in my foot which was misdiagnosed initially and when finally properly diagnosed set my recovery back months. Unwilling to have surgery to remove the small offending bone, I began to realize my days of running marathons had suddenly ended.

I turned to other activities, activities that also took hours and required I vacate the premises. Hiking and biking soon replaced running but although each was satisfying they pale in comparison to distance running. I admit part of the allure of running marathons was telling people I ran marathons, and then seeing their bewildered looks. Running defined me in ways that no other activity ever has, no matter how many miles I ride my bike and although my creaky knees are probably partially attributed to running I wish I could still do it.

Peace and love,

John

How About a Walk

Daily writing prompt

What are your morning rituals? What does the first hour of your day look like?

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Some days getting out of bed seems difficult. It’s too cold, too dark, too early and the demands of the day feel far too overwhelming. Who amongst us hasn’t contemplated burying themselves deeper under the blankets, pulling them over our head and wishing we could stay there forever or at least until the sun comes out. But we know the longer we stay hidden under the blankets the further we fall behind in our daily responsibilities…..ugh, responsibilities….those things that people count on you to do. If only there were less responsibilities and more time wrapped in blankets dozing in that early morning slumber.

One way to trick myself to get up and moving is to begin the day with a morning walk. I do this even though I realize that I’m getting up earlier than I need to and I’m robbing myself of extra sleep under a warm comforter, but I feel it’s worth it. Living in the mid-west can make these early morning walks difficult and far less appealing than in a warmer climate. Depending on the time of year it’s still dark and cold, and the moon still glows reminding me that perhaps I’m foolish to be out so early. But with my earbuds in my ears and a winter hat covering my head plus enough layers to stay warm I set out to begin my day.

I find it fascinating to see the my neighborhood at this unique time, night drifting away and morning slowly announcing her arrival. I’ve seen deer browsing through our apple trees eating the fallen apples off the ground and even standing on their hind legs plucking them off the trees. They graze uninterrupted until they sense my presence, they freeze and stare at me for a brief moment and then silently hurry away bounding at an astonishing speed. Other nocturnal creatures scurry away as morning approaches like vampires avoiding daylight.

The birds are the first thing I usually notice, especially in the warmer months chirping and singing a beautiful natural wake up to the world. The singing of the birds means that sunrise is not far behind. Frequently as night disappears into daylight the sky is streaked in a mosaic of colors so wonderful I usually stop and appreciate the beauty before me as if standing before a work of art hanging in a museum, but this is a work of art I’m part of as it surrounds me and with it a new day presenting opportunities and possibilities that are endless.

Could I have these same feelings while burrowed under my comforter dozing in a morning slumber….probably not, and I find that my morning walk gets me going and feeling a positive vibe. I’m more likely to accomplish more if I begin the day with a walk although I have discovered that the morning nap after the morning walk is quite a wonderful feeling too.

Peace and Love,

John

Gimme A Break

Daily writing prompt

Do you need a break? From what?

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If only it was so easy to just have a break. I think we could all use a break from something. Work would rank high on the list of what people would like a break from. Then there are other obligations and commitments that can be overwhelming at times. Taking care of a sick or elderly family member can be both physically and mentally draining. Other times it’s just the drudgery of everyday tasks that we long to escape from. As I sit here looking out my sunroom window I realize I just want a break from winter.

Most years I try to fully embrace winter. I always say there’s no such thing as bad weather just bad clothing choices. As someone who worked outside for most of my career I got used to all kinds of weather. The heat of summer, the damp rains of fall and yes even the snowy clutches of winter. I also enjoy winter activities like skiing or a winter hike on a crisp, raw day. But I’ve come to realize that I really only enjoy those activities if the the sun is shining. So perhaps it’s not winter I need a break from but the gray drabness of it that accompanies winter in the midwest.

I swear we can go a week without seeing the sun. We get up each day in darkness, soon the darkness fades to reveal an endless gray sky and a landscape covered in snow. Everything looks the same and only two colors dominate our vision, gray and the white of snow. I feel like I’m living in my own black and white film.

And because it’s only the beginning of February I know there are still weeks of this bleakness. On gray overcast days I just want to stay inside and hibernate with some soup simmering on the stove and a book that takes me away from my existence. I wouldn’t mind winter if only we had more sunshine.

So yes, I’ll gladly take a break from the depths of winters cold grip and gray drabness and as soon as a sunny day comes along I’ll be out there enjoying it no matter the temperature.

Peace and Love,

John

So Many to Read, So Little Time

Daily writing prompt

What books do you want to read?

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For the last few years I’ve been keeping track of the books I’ve read. Each year I try to read more than the previous year. This past year I read 17 books….. I believe that’s the most I’ve read in a year but I know it pales in comparison to some people, my wife is a voracious reader who can easily read 1 or even 2 books a week.

I like to to keep track of what I’ve read to see if I’m perhaps reading too much of a certain author or genre. I enjoy reading John Grisham books and each year I seem to read 1 or 2. Either he comes out with a new one or I find a title I haven’t read at my local library. I recently found one at the library that I hadn’t read. The story revolved around the theft of the F. Scott Fitzgerald manuscripts from the Princeton library. It got me thinking that I never read any other works by Fitzgerald except Gatsby. It took me multiple readings of Gatsby to truly appreciate it. I was always hung up on the idea that it was just a story of the rich and privileged doing awful things and not being held accountable. Even though Gatsby is hung up on his high school crush it’s still a story of love and loss. I read that Gatsby wasn’t even a big success when it was written and Fitzgerald was bankrupt and so desperate for money and recognition that he was writing screen plays in Hollywood when he died. I think I’ll read more Fitzgerald this year to see if his other story’s are as good as Gatsby.

I’ve always been fascinated with Hemingway. He himself cultivated an image of a man who could drink more, write better, out fight and out womanize anyone else. As with a lot of mythology some of this is true and some of it is pure fiction, but the man could write. Not everything he wrote stands the test of time and some of his subjects are just plain puzzling nowadays, his fascination with bullfighting and traveling around Europe as part of “the lost generation” seems odd. His personal life may have been as tragic as the characters in his books but some of those books are pure genius. The subjects of love, loss and death permeate his great works and I think I’ll continue to read as much of his work as I can.

Being a sports fan I could easily spend a whole year reading nothing but sports books especially baseball. I think of all the sports, baseball is the sport that has the most books about it, perhaps it’s the history and tradition of the game or maybe just the simple pace and day to day nature of it but I do enjoy a baseball book during the long, dark, cold winter months. Reading a baseball book in the winter gives me something to look forward to as the seasons eventually change.

I read somewhere that the best story’s are about baseball, running and horses. Maybe it’s the solitary nature of running, the lyrical day to day grind of baseball and the simple beauty of a horse but I have read great books about all 3 of those subjects. But there are great story’s everywhere…..go find a book and read it

Peace and Love,

John

Curled up in a Corner

Daily writing prompt

What is your favorite animal?

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I’ve always thought it was unfair to label someone a “dog person” or a “cat person.” If you love animals enough to provide a loving home to one, then you probably love all types of animals. Sometimes people have a preference, they grew up with a dog or a cat or perhaps a horse or goat and they have fond memories of that animal.

My wife and I have had a dog and a cat, and although they never did really get along we loved them both. They carved out a spot in our hearts much like they carved out an existence in our home while ignoring the other. We gave them love and they returned it. We played with them, took them on walks, the dog we took on walks, cuddled with them, shared the couch and bed with them and put up with their midnight ramblings and early morning wake-ups.

If I had to pick a favorite…. I would choose a cat. Growing up we had a cat in our family. She lived a long time and like any pet became part of the family. We lived out in the country and during warm summer nights she would stay out all night carousing around the neighborhood, at least that’s what I like to believe she was doing. Quite frequently she would be out hunting….usually at least once a week our lovable cat would leave the carcass of a small critter on the front porch in a proud display as if saying “look what I have brought you, now shower me with love and adulation.”

Mice, birds, rabbits all were left bloody and in some cases decapitated on the front porch. This required a thorough clean-up and scrubbing of the porch, usually by my irritated mother……how us kids got out of that I’ll never know. Mom would sometimes scold the cat as she was scrubbing the porch but the cat usually sat there with an imperious look on her face confused why the gift wasn’t lovingly received. Then she would disappear the rest of the day sleeping a restful slumber until the next night.

Cats have this amazing ability to show no remorse, guilt or even understand why you might be upset. They strut about ignoring everyone, demanding to be fed at odd hours and then curl up and sleep for most of the day indignant if awakened before they have achieved at least 20 consecutive hours of sleep.

I wish I had the confidence of a cat, but I’m frequently empathetic to others and often guilt stricken from doing or not doing something. I always say I have the personality of a cat…..I’ll probably ignore you most of the time, not because I don’t like you but I’d rather just be doing my own thing hidden away in a corner. If I need something I’ll let you know and if you need something from me I’ll always be there……now if only I could sleep as much as a cat, that would be glorious

Take care or your pets….

Peace

John

Play More

Daily writing prompt

Do you play in your daily life? What says “playtime” to you?

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It’s not just me but I don’t think alot of people spend time “playing.”

I find it strange to drive around neighborhoods and see very few kids outside playing. I was fortunate that I grew up in a neighborhood where there was other kids my age to hang out with. We’d ride our bikes up and down the street seeing who else was outside and if there was enough of us we’d decide to do something. Sometimes there was enough of us to organize a game of some kind. We might play for hours or until one of us was called home, and when I mean called home it wasn’t our parents calling us on a cell phone it was usually Mom yelling down the street to get home or another Mom coming by and passing along a message from your Mom.

That’s how communication worked back then in neighborhoods, every Mom knew the other Mom’s and they all seemed to know each other’s phone number and even if my Mom didn’t know where I was it could be quickly determined where all the kids were hanging out by the Mom’s telephone network.

Sometimes the game we were playing devolved quickly due to arguing about the fairness of the teams or some rule interpretation but we’d do it all again the next day and the best thing was that it was all organized by us kids. There were no parents around to make every game an ultra-organized affair, in fact when a parent did get involved it was very awkward and I think most of us kids were thinking the same thing…..

“just leave us alone to figure it out”…….and usually we did

I’m not sure kids today have enough free time for play. Parents have over-scheduled organized activities for their kids that keep them busy all the time. We all know the parents who are constantly shuttling kids from soccer to dance to piano to karate to robotics to computer coding camp and on and on and on…….

As I grow older I find myself wanting to play more…..perhaps it’s just me trying to recall my youth or I realize that too much time is spent working or taking care of everyday life tasks like taking the car for an oil change or cleaning the leaves out of the gutters. Of course there are ways for adults to play……pickleball seems to be wildly popular and golf is always an activity that adults can enjoy as they age but I find myself wanting to walk more, ride my bike more, go on hikes.

A couple of years ago I bought a kite and on a perfectly windy spring day I flew my kite……I ran with it and launched it and watched as it caught the wind and climbed higher as I released more string. I watched the kite dance on the breeze dipping and swirling, often I had to pull quickly on the string to prevent a full nose dive….it was exhilarating in ways that are hard to describe……yes I felt like a kid again wanting the kite to stay aloft and hoping the string was strong enough and wouldn’t break in the spring breeze. Neighbors driving by were probably perplexed to see me standing there flying a kite but it was joyful and quite frankly I didn’t care what they thought….they might even have been jealous or not, it didn’t matter because as a kid it didn’t matter what other’s thought when you were playing, all that matter was that you were doing it and doing is much better than not doing and besides I’m not ready for pickleball

Peace and Love

John

Changes Happen

Daily writing prompt

Is your life today what you pictured a year ago?

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No…..most definitely not. There’s been a big change from a year ago. I call this new phase semi-retirement or Act 2. Back in September the large multi-national global conglomerate of a company I toiled for over 25 years announced they were consolidating operations and closing the location I worked at, and although I was offered another position at a different location I thought it was best to move on.

My routine of getting up and rushing off to work and working 8 or more hours has been replaced by lazy mornings sitting in my sun-room, laptop open scrolling through news and contemplating blog posts. The birds are getting breakfast at the feeder and in the field behind our house the deer roam languidly searching for any last beans that didn’t get harvested. All the projects that get talked about and never started have been started and some have been completed to be replaced by more projects. To be honest not everything has been started, that book I keep contemplating has not been started….that might be a commitment I’m not ready for.

I spend more time researching travel destinations…..did you know the best time to go to Machu Picchu is in the spring or fall to avoid the rainy season and avoid the crowds of the summer season. If you desire to hike the Inca Trail it’s a four day hike to Machu Picchu but there’s also a train that can take you to the top. So far my semi-retirement travel has been limited to the continental U.S. but perhaps with more free time I’ll expand my destinations.

Also this has been the first year in forever that I sent out Christmas cards. I always had the excuse that December was actually my busiest month so I had no time for cards, but this year cards are mailed, decorations are hung and most of the shopping is complete with still a week before Christmas.

Much to my wife’s chagrin there are times during the week I don’t even know what day it is, and as the weather has turned colder here in the mid-west my lazy mornings are stretching into lazy afternoons. I find myself sitting around more and watching stuff instead of doing stuff. These are not habits that I want to continue so Act 2 is evolving and I recently accepted a part-time position at our local community college. I love the idea of working part-time at this point of my life. I’ll still have the flexibility of time but with the incentive and purpose that only a job can provide, and lets face it my allowance around here wasn’t increasing.

As I sit here and think about the changes of the past couple of months I realize that life can throw you some unexpected curve balls and it’s important to be willing to accept change and look ahead, perhaps even if you think your taking a step back it’s really just a precursor to a new situation….Act 2…..the mornings are better, it hardly matters what day of the week it is and finding a new purpose is a revelation to be embraced…….

So look ahead and enjoy the journey, don’t sit around and if possible start planning your next adventure…..and avoid the rainy season

Peace and Love

John