Tag: writing

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.

Like, comment or subscribe…

Peace and Love,

John

If Only it Was Real

I saw a headline that stopped me mid-scroll over the weekend. It was so delicious and intriguing I had to click on the link. The attention grabbing headline and subsequent story told of a women who had been arrested for hiring a clown to harass her ex at his rec league softball games.

The story had all the elements of a Shakespearean drama…..love, betrayal, revenge and a clown. The story even had the mugshot of the arrested woman.

This is perfect I thought for a deep blog post on relationships gone wrong, bad breakups and new employment opportunities for the clown community. I mean besides kids birthday party’s, and the occasional parade the demand for clowns is pretty low. Not to mention clowns seem to catch an inordinate amount of negativity in general. Let’s face it…..most people really don’t like clowns nor understand why a person would dress up like one and paint their face when a large majority of people are actually frightened by them.

It took me about 2 minutes of additional scrolling or research as I call it, to determine the story was fake. It had originally appeared on a website known for generating false story’s, kinda like The Onion but not as well known. The mugshot was a fake AI generated picture of a rather attractive young woman that I’m sure was a catalyst for generating so much interest in the story.

What I find so fascinating was the amount of people who believed the story and subsequently commented and shared the story causing it to go viral. Of course people had to weigh in like so many people do now days with their expert opinion.

I make it a habit not to read the comments mainly to not waste my time and to keep my naively false hopes alive that we’re not as stupid as we appear online. I can only guess that there was an equal amount of people taking the woman’s side as the man’s side. I mean who amongst us hasn’t let their mind wander to some creative type of harmless revenge against an ex who so wronged us by ending a relationship and what could be more creative than harassment by a clown.

This really could have opened up a whole new avenue of employment for clowns. Besides listing magic tricks and the ability to make dozens of different balloon animals and the singularly unique talent of wedging themselves into impossibly tiny cars and driving them haphazardly in parades they could now also note that they’ve helped many wronged ex’s get over a bad breakup. They could then list all their most effective harassment techniques. The clown in the fake story was hired to harass the ex boyfriend at his softball games by clapping sarcastically at even the most routine plays.

Oh I can see it now, clowns showing up at places of employment critiquing even the smallest of mundane tasks. A clown sitting next to you judging every email sent, every sales pitch rejected, every meeting you attended where you desperately attempted to be heard even if your sole contribution was saying “lets circle back around next week.”

Instead of that small voice in your head that stifles your creativity and reminds you of all your failures going back to middle school, you’d have a real voice reminding you of your failures and that voice comes with overly large shoes, a painted face and maybe a horn to be extra annoying.

So unfortunately the real victims here are the clowns with their faces painted to appear happy but we know it’s a a mask to hide their real sorrow and unhappiness. Not only denied new employment opportunities but used in a fake story so many of us wanted to believe.

I could end here by saying don’t believe what you see on the internet but we already know that and we still get duped…..

Peace and Love,

John

The Work Slowdown Has Begun

I came home the other day to find my wife vacuuming the living room. Six months ago this would not have been a surprise. My wife is a bit of a germ-o-phobe and a little, kinda, slightly obsessive compulsive plus we’re a household with 2 vacuums so it was not entirely unusual to come home and find my wife vacuuming at any hour. She vacuums with such gusto and vigor I often thought she actually enjoyed vacuuming but when I casually mentioned this one day she pointedly informed me how incorrect I was and oh by the way maybe I should start vacuuming and maybe I would enjoy it. At that moment I decided to keep my mouth shut about the amount of vacuuming and the perceived level of enjoyment.

Still I was a bit surprised to find her vacuuming because 6 months ago she purchased yet another vacuum. It’s one of those robo vacs that you can program to vacuum at any time. Since the purchase of robo vac my wife’s vacuuming has declined but the frequency of tripping over robo vac has increased. The spinning whirring disc seems to let nothing get in its way of completing its preassigned work….or so I thought.

I stood there puzzled watching my wife vigorously vacuum the living room wondering where the little robo vac might be acutely aware that it might blindly run into my achilles tendon at anytime causing an injury that might require me to rush to the hospital with the unbelievable story of robo vac sending me to the emergency room.

Finally my wife noticed me standing there and stopped her vigorous vacuuming. I spread my hands wide in a questioning gesture that needed no words.

“It got stuck behind the couch and then was confused so it went back to its dock and now it won’t come out.”

I shook my head in stunned disbelief….it got confused and went back to its dock and won’t come out. Were we dealing with a robot vacuum or a temperamental teenager whose told that the grass needs to be cut before they go to their friends house and in protest they lock themselves in their bedroom refusing nourishment and vowing a hunger strike.

Then I realized what was really happening. Robo vac was much smarter than I had realized. I thought the spinning, whirring disc knew only the finer points of vacuuming, dust prevention and preassigned patterns of our living room but no it had already determined that vacuuming kinda sucks no matter how vigorous and enthusiastic my wife makes it look. Robo vac had already determined a life of vacuuming was unfulfilling even if programmed for that very task.

Robo vac had also cleverly discovered that the humans or in this case my germ-o-phobe, cleanliness is next to godliness obsessive wife would actually do the work it was programmed to do. Robo vac could hang out at its home dock probably communicating its discovery with other robots in the robot union, planning and scheming and recharging for the next work that won’t be done.

I see what you’ve done robo vac and I kinda respect it. My wife will occasionally assign me chores around the house. I often wish I could disappear to my home port (man cave) surrounded by the giant TV and a stack of books I may never read and chill out and let someone else complete the chores.

So to summarize the robots are here, they don’t like doing chores anymore than we do and they’ve already figured out we’ll still do them if necessary. Oh one more thing, never turn your back on a robo vac, they go straight for the achilles tendon.

Peace and Love,

John

The Gift I Really Wanted

A few days before Fathers Day my wife asked me if I wanted to see a picture of the gift she had purchased for me. Knowing my wife for as long as I have I quickly deduced that I didn’t like where this conversation was headed so I did what any smart husband does when asked a question by his wife that he doesn’t really want to answer….I remained silent.

She continued and preceded to tell me that the gift she had ordered wouldn’t be arriving until October. Now not only was I silent but I’m sure my face looked quizzical as I thought to myself that the gift sounded more like something to be given at Christmas and not Fathers Day. But I always like to remain gracious when presented with a gift so I attempted to retain a positive look on my face.

I’m sure that look changed when I saw the gift. It was neither something I needed, wanted or would have purchased for myself and I found the item to be wildly overpriced. Now we can debate whether most things are overpriced in today’s economy and why that is but I have neither the time nor energy for that.

I remained silent for what seemed an interminable amount of time as I quickly studied my options. My silence and lack of enthusiasm was the real answer and my wife noticed.

We seemed to have reached the age where buying gifts for each other has become difficult. We rarely exchange gifts anymore as most of the gifts are unnecessary and just add to the clutter that I now constantly contemplate but rarely do anything about.

When my wife expressed the very idea that she didn’t know what to get me I suddenly realized what I really wanted. For a couple of months now I have been unable to write on this very website. That’s not entirely true as I have only been unable to write using the laptop. I have been able to login and write using my phone which is frustrating on many levels. I like to sit at a desk with a computer screen and keyboard and tap away occasionally glancing up to notice all the misspelled words and punctuation errors. A phone is not something to write blog posts on, at least not for me.

A phone is for texting, doom scrolling, accessing the entire world, getting directions to the new restaurant, booking flights, playing games, listening to music, taking pictures, sending and receiving emails, scheduling your calendar, writing notes and remainders to yourself, listening to podcasts, keeping a huge lists of contacts most of whom you never actually contact, making videos, keeping track of your workouts so you can annoy your friends with your Strava data, sending GIPHS ( which lets be real nobody still can agree how to pronounce…is it Jiffs or Giffs?) and even perhaps making a phone call.

Somehow the login for this website changed….don’t ask me how these things happen or how they always seem to happen to me but I could only login on my phone. I tried, oh did I try numerous times to login and write. I had emails sent to me with login procedures and new temporary passwords but each time left me on the verge of destroying something, probably the laptop itself, and since I knew that wasn’t a good idea although it might be satisfying, I was reduced to writing on my phone which since I find annoying I was sure it had also simultaneously curbed my creativity.

So when my wife asked me what could she have possibly gotten me for Fathers Day I actually had an answer. As I mentioned earlier there are few gifts I need or want. I have numerous polo shirts, too many books, gadgets I don’t use, memorabilia and mementos that sit around getting dusty, t-shirts I still wear from 20 years ago and golf clubs that are one step away from being taken to the curb on garbage day. What I really appreciate now that I’ve grown older is time spent with others and somebody doing something for me that I either can’t do or find frustrating to do, and believe me anything to do with a QR code or password is at the top of my list of frustrating things.

But since my wife is an IT professional I figured it was the perfect time to have her fix my login problem and get back to writing. And if you’re wondering why I didn’t ask her sooner, I admit I was stubborn and didn’t want to ask for help with a tech issue and I know that she deals with IT issues all day which her usual response to is “it sounds like user error”…..of course she’s not wrong about this. And since I know when she comes home from a long day of programming, helping others with their passwords and proclaiming “it’s probably user error” well the last thing I wanted to bother her with was a password login problem.

A few clicks on the computer and a few clicks on my phone and the problem that had thwarted me for months was solved in less than 5 minutes. She then proceeded to cancel the other gift, the Fathers Day gift not scheduled to arrive until October (seriously what was she thinking) and I know sit happy at a desk typing away and misspelling every other word. Now if only I could figure out how to get the text the right size.

Enjoy time with others and have smart people around to fix your passwords

John

Friendly Advice

I’m not proud of this and I certainly don’t think I’m the only one who does this, but the first thing I do when I wake up is reach for my phone. Of course this is a rather new phenomenon, it wasn’t always like this. But even though knowing all the warnings against looking at my phone before bed, the light emanating from it and the doom scrolling affecting sleep, I still have my phone in bed or on the nightstand. So yes the first thing I do when I wake up is reach for it almost as a comforting touch.

I typically do a quick check of notifications and news to determine nothing too disastrous has happened overnight and it’s safe to get out of bed without the dread of an immediate crisis.

I then usually check my weather app. Having worked outside for many years this is a habit I still do to this day, and I’ve noticed a recent trend with my weather app. Along with giving the forecast for the day and if needed a weekly forecast along with the radar for the area, my weather app is now also giving advice.

At first I really didn’t even notice it, so I’m not sure when it started and I wonder how many people really do notice it as we’ve become so accustomed to glancing over many things on our phones and not really reading them. It was probably a couple of days before I really noticed and determined this advice was not a onetime thing.

What I find so fascinating about this is that the tone is more friendly, even motherly in a non-judgmental sort of way that true motherly advice could never be.

”Showers might spoil your plans and a rain jacket is a smart call when heading out”….was the advice with the daily forecast yesterday. If my mother had actually said that to me I probably would have rolled my eyes and ignored it.

”With no shadow and no glare, cloudy days have their perks”….hmm I thought I guess cloudy days do have some benefits. I surely never would have come to that conclusion any other time.

”No blue sky, but no reason to change your plans either”… well that’s a relief I thought as I still lay under the covers.

The advice seems to be given in a breezy, friendly tone as if a caring friend notices you always seem to be the one who forgets their sunglasses or umbrella.

I’m sure this is some type of AI generated advice creeping into our lives disguised as a non obtrusive feature. And I genuinely worry that our brains are slowly shutting down and dying with each query into our phones and computers. Will the next generation be capable of original thoughts without running it through an AI machine to verify. Our are own mothers being replaced as the most knowledgeable source of information?

I have a feeling this is just the beginning. First the AI machines give helpful but unasked for advice about weather ( after all we could simply look out the window or….gasp….go outside)

Soon the advice will become more pointed and judgmental and even personalized as all of life seems to be heading.

”I think I answered that last week, do we really need to go over this again”….is something that will soon be spewing forth from an AI agent or perhaps a simple query about a evening out will become a referendum about your current relationship and whether it’s really working for you.

No we all know this is just the beginning, the friendly advice now about weather soon becomes career advice, relationship advice, investment advice, parenting advice, and although we could each use a little guidance and mentoring it’s still probably a good idea to get that from trusted sources like parents or friends who actually know you and have your back.

And although I have been taking my phone to bed with me and tucking it under my pillow as I fall asleep to music or a baseball game I don’t consider that I have a relationship with it that feels like I want to trust it for life advice.

I hope the apps on my phone don’t all start giving advice….can you imagine if Facebook or Instagram start judging what you’re posting….

”You wore that to the theater and why are you squinting? Didn’t the weather app remind you to grab your sunglasses ?”

Soon our apps will be communicating with us verbally so it really will be like your mother is always with you, reminding you, scolding you and advising you…. “I told you she was no good for you and you really should have been a doctor like your cousin” ….

I can’t wait ….

Peace and love….

John


Goodbye, Farewell

Two of my favorite podcasts recently decided to stop production. The loss of 2 podcasts barely registered a blip in the podcasting market as I’m sure there were 10 more new ones that very same week. But as I listened to the last episodes I was overcome with a feeling of sadness as strange as that might sound. I mean it was only a couple of podcasts for gosh sakes. I didn’t actually know these people nor would I realistically ever have a chance to meet them and besides hearing their voices once a week I had no other connection to them but still I hate when things end and especially when they end abruptly and without warning.

And so as I listened to the last episodes I kept thinking about how it felt like a relationship was ending. Not like a romantic, passionate love affair but more like a friendship that has run its course but only one person is really ready to let go. Friendships end for many reasons and later after some reflection you sometimes wonder how and why you were actually friends to start with. There’s usually some connection of shared experiences…..school, work, where you live. These experiences bond people together and friendships are formed. You often think these relationships will last forever but typically they end when those shared experiences end. You move on and the relationship withers as time and new experiences take over.

The loss of 2 of my favorite podcasts reminded me of losing a work friendship. One minute your reaching for the last nutty doughnut and sharing eye rolls in a never ending meeting about productivity and increasing opportunities with an increased emphasis on customer service and the next day they mention their house is for sale and they’re moving across the country. The gut punch is real and startling. Who are you going to share vacation photos with or talk about the silly things your teenagers do.

Work friends are wonderful and necessary to combat the never ending drudgery of the workplace. Seriously if you weren’t getting paid would you really show up to work ? It’s the people and relationships that make the job meaningful.
Shared experiences lead to shared connections. You watch each other’s families grow up, you watch each other’s parents grow old. You smirk at stories of each other’s spouses and you have each other’s back. You cheer their success and support each other in difficult times.

Maybe there’s doughnuts involved, there’s definitely too many meetings. Sometimes there’s late nights or early mornings, sometimes holidays are spent at work and not with family. You think they’ll be there whenever you are, ready to go for another day, ready to deal with whatever the universe throws at you. Then ….they’re gone, moved on, new experiences to be had and they leave a feeling of loss.

I would sit in meetings looking at the empty chair next to me, remembering the inside jokes and inappropriate laughter, remembering the passed notes and eye rolls.

Soon that chair was filled by somebody else just as my podcast feed is filled seemingly with a never ending stream of babble. You hope you find new podcasts to replace the ones that have left….you don’t even bother trying to replace the missing friendship.

Peace and love,

John

So I Went to the Mall

I stood looking out the front window. Another delivery truck had pulled into the driveway. It was yet another Amazon truck dropping off its latest package. It just so happened to be the second Amazon truck that day and as I watched the driver place the package on the porch and take the necessary picture I briefly pondered the scope of a delivery network that can send different drivers to the same house on the same day.
Had they optimized their delivery system to fulfill a customer’s request within hours or was it simply an error in sorting and loading to the appropriate route. Although there are much smarter people than me designing networks and writing algorithms, I still tend to believe human error and simple mistakes are the most common answer why things happen. And because I still had a few gifts to buy and I actually still enjoy going out shopping I headed to our local mall.

I had recently seen a video while scrolling of a mall back in the 80’s. It was during the holiday season and the mall was packed with people. Decorations were everywhere and the line for Santa was never ending. Old favorite stores like Banana Republic, The Gap and WaldenBooks flashed by. Even though the video was short there was an excitement and buzz that was unrecognizable to today’s shopping experience. The caption of the video simply stated that today’s kids would never experience the excitement of a mall at Christmas.

Perhaps that’s true or maybe it’s just simply a bit of nostalgia for people of my generation to think back on. My mother fondly recalls taking a bus to downtown Detroit with her mother and spending an entire day shopping at Hudson’s department store. That too was an entirely different time and I’m sure she lamented the idea that malls had replaced department stores as I lament that online shopping has replaced malls.

The death of the mall began long ago and there are plenty of malls being repurposed for other uses most notably for housing or a combination of businesses and housing. Our mall while still open is a shadow of what it used to be. It had a nice run during the 80’s & 90’s. Everybody shopped there and although we knew it was smaller than other malls it still offered a wide variety of shopping and food choices.

But new trends emerge and habits change and the shopping mall belongs in a different time and place. As I walked around I noticed more elderly people walking for exercise than people actually shopping. The decorations were still hung and music played over the speakers but as I walked by Santa I noticed there was no line….he was talking to a lady dressed as Mrs. Claus, perhaps they were making plans for dinner or talking of favorite cookies.
My shopping experience was quick, the line at the checkout was short, and as I headed back out to the parking lot I couldn’t help but wonder what would become of our mall and would it even be here next Christmas.

As I pulled onto our road darkness was beginning to descend as winters grip took hold. An Amazon truck was headed towards me still out delivering. The ease and comfort of home delivery was just a few clicks away and an army of drivers was seemingly always ready.
Perhaps I’ll turn into that person that constantly talks of the old days of how things used to be…. I hope not, I realize things change and malls had their time and it was glorious for a while but the market speaks loudly and the shopping experience is not going back.
I headed inside to wrap the gifts I had bought, now there was something I really dread doing….wrapping….if Amazon had a wrapping service I’d probably take advantage of it.
It’s probably only a matter of time.

Peace and Love,

John



This is How it Begins

I stood in front of the refrigerator. I held the door open staring into the abyss for way too long. I was equally puzzled and amazed that there was so much stuff crammed into it. My wife had gone shopping the previous day and the new items combined with Thanksgiving leftovers the refrigerator had an overstuffed look and feel to it that resembled how I had felt most of the weekend. But since my wife had declared she wasn’t cooking anything until the leftovers were gone I grabbed the plastic containers from the bottom shelf and began preparing the last meal of this Thanksgiving weekend.

The turkey still looked good although not as appetizing as Thursday and the mashed potato’s and stuffing were awkwardly sharing the same plastic container crammed together like commuters on a overcrowded bus who can’t but help brush up against each other. I threw everything on a plate and zapped it in the microwave, added a slice of bread and gravy and settled in for the perfect comfort food on a cold mid-western day….the hot turkey sandwich. It was then I heard the new sound in our house, a beeping and whirring….it was my wife’s new “toy”….the Robo-Vac.

When future anthropologist begin studying our civilization and the inevitable demise of it I often wonder what they will declare was the beginning of the decline. Was it the continued invention of weapons for total destruction, or perhaps it was man’s desires for enrichment and pure simple greed. As I witnessed the Robo-Vac whirring and turning and beeping I became convinced we had just let into our home the very thing that will lead to our destruction.

My wife hates vacuuming, although you would never guess this by looking in the front closet. There sits 2 vacuums each when bought were declared to be the best and most efficient vacuums available. But lets face it no matter how you dress it up it’s still a vacuum and vacuuming is tedious and a bit difficult with the cord and various attachments. And if at this point you are saying to yourself that perhaps I should take over the vacuuming duties let me assure you that I have tried. My wife is just a bit of a germ-o-phobe and neat freak and did I mention her tendencies of obsessive compulsive behavior. Each of my attempts at cleaning usually leaves my wife muttering and declaring that she’ll “just do it herself.”

And this is how we ended up with a beeping, whirring, spinning, methodical disc going back and forth and forth and back across our carpets. After finishing off the leftovers ( I bet you thought this whole blog post would be about Thanksgiving leftovers )…… I proceeded to observe the Robo-Vac. I figured I should probably acquaint myself with the object of our extinction. It was slow and methodical. That’s how all the robots are programmed I deduced as a way to gain our trust. As it was still learning the layout of our house it became stuck in the corner of the spare bedroom. This is the bedroom that has my old tennis racquets and baseball ball bats leaning about and it somehow became wedged between a bat and tennis racquet. I smirked as I dislodged it thinking myself superior.

It soon finished and headed back to it’s charging station or dock as it calls it. I wonder as it sits there the rest of the day if it’s receiving instructions from some mainframe or perhaps a data center somewhere and soon it will implement the grand strategy. I picture it going into silent mode some night and creeping up into our bed and smothering us in our sleep and then going back to it’s dock and reporting to headquarters of it’s success eliminating the humans.

I opened the pantry door and stared into it, it also seemed overly stuffed……my wife breezed through the kitchen and as if reading my mind she said…. “there’s no more pie”….. I sighed and grabbed the box of Cheezits and slumped onto the couch. I pondered the Robo-Vac and it’s meaning as I mindlessly munched Cheezits and because I didn’t want to spend the whole day becoming the embodiment of the Thanksgiving couch potato I got up and brushed all the crumbs onto the carpet. I paused knowing full well what I had just done…. I shrugged…the Robo-Vac would be out again tomorrow and I figured it was better for all of us if he had something to actually vacuum up……best to keep the labor busy so it’s not plotting against us.

Peace and Love,

John

A Face in the Yard

I awoke to the constant patter of a rain on the roof and windows. Better than any alarm clock, a gentle rain reminds you that nature is continuously at work. Is there anything better than falling asleep or awakening to rain. Although depending on your plans for the day, the rain may be greeted with dread, any outdoor activities might have to be rescheduled or completed in wet and miserable conditions. Who amongst us really likes being out in a cold rain ?

The rain didn’t last long and by sunrise it had been replaced by a cool, cloudless blue sky. The wind rustled the trees and the red and gold leaves that fell carpeted parts of the yard. But a morning rain, much like an unexpected guest, also presents an opportunity. Leaves become too wet to rake, wood too difficult to cut and split. Outdoor activities would be delayed. A comfy chair beckons, a book to be read or a show to be watched with no guilty feelings.

As I glanced outside again I noticed the scarecrow in the front yard. Pumpkins and cornstalks surrounded him keeping in company in a postcard setting of autumn. But the scarecrow was not facing the road for all to see, the wind had turned him around so he faced the house. In fact he seemed to be looking directly into the front window. He was soaking wet and his hat was askew, some of the straw filling had become so wet that it fell out of him and lay on the ground underneath him. He still had the same goofy smile plastered across his face, perhaps he was beckoning to me with his smile that it wasn’t so bad out in the rain and wind, or perhaps his smile and the fact that he was looking in the window meant he’d had enough, enough of the rain, the wind, the leaves blowing around him, perhaps he was tired of having a pole stuck through him, tired of wet coveralls and straw that itched him constantly. Perhaps the scarecrow was looking for a warm dry place to settle down for the day. Maybe he could see my comfy chair and big TV from the yard and he needed a break from his job as fall decoration.

I must admit, it was rather unnerving staring out the window with him staring back at me. His button eyes seemed to follow my every move. I went to another window and looked out, his eyes seemed to follow me knowing where I was. I hoped for a strong wind to spin him back around but he seemed riveted to this new position, and so I knew what I must do. Outside I went to straighten him out both metaphorically and physically. I turned him around to face the road, once again he assumed his proper position, a centerpiece among the pumpkins and cornstalks, a postcard picture of autumn.

I thought about somehow securing him so the wind couldn’t spin him any longer, so he couldn’t be facing the house looking in the front window contemplating my cozy environs. But I assured myself it had been a windy night and that as a scarecrow he was his happiest outside in the wind and rain fulfilling his destiny with a pole stuck up his back….who wouldn’t be ? As I walked away I glanced back and as I did so a gust of wind blew him back to face me, his goofy smile taunted me and then another gust blew him back to face the road. It was as if he was reminding me…. “go ahead, go inside, sit in your chair with your book and hot coffee…. I’ll be here in my wet coveralls with my straw filling and pole up my back but remember I’m just not here to scare away the birds and I just might be looking in the window when you awaken tomorrow.”

I did sit in my big chair with my coffee, but then as I looked outside I realized perhaps it wasn’t so bad out and wet leaves aren’t so bad to rake. An afternoon spent outside in the fall is a blessing and an opportunity. I also checked the calendar….only 10 more days till Halloween and then I can take that scarecrow down and decorate for Thanksgiving….turkeys love being outside right ?

Peace and Love,

John

A New Favorite

I was out on my morning walk today and I glanced at the sky. Usually when I’m on my morning walk I see the sun rise if it’s not obscured by the gloom of a mid-west day or the haze of smoke….I’m looking at you Canada. I often catch the sun just peeking over the horizon and many times I stop and take a picture. It’s interesting to see the different sunrises throughout the year. I’ll look back on the pictures and notice that sometimes it rises over the road but a month later it’s in the field across the way and next month perhaps it’s over by the neighbors barn. What struck me today was that I totally missed sunrise, in fact I’ve missed it for the past couple of weeks.

Now before you accuse me of sleeping in and enjoying extra time under the covers, let me assure you that I’m up at literally the same time every day. A son that’s out the door before 6 and a wife getting ready for work doesn’t exactly create a environment conducive for sleeping in. Add in the fact that as the weather has gotten nicer and the windows are open and I can hear traffic on our road and let’s just say that I’m up before the sun.

But as I noticed the sun this morning, I realized I probably haven’t been up before the sun lately. The sun was already high in the sky, really high and it struck me that June just might be my new favorite month.

Ah June, you temptress, you beguile us with your long days, pleasant weather and mild humidity. The promise of summer stretches before us with endless possibilities. Picnics, days at the beach, romping barefoot thru the grass, cool drinks with ice melting and clinking to the bottom of the glass, bike rides and hikes in tree covered woods….these all seem possible in June with a endless summer before us. July and August quickly become oppressive with your heat and humidity, we close windows and click on air conditioners hiding in the cool comfort of a modern climate controlled environment.

But it is June that the longest days are to be enjoyed, the bugs haven’t yet figured out I’m a walking blood bank to be swarmed at first sight or smell. Yes I know, I’ll probably write a blog post at the end of summer lamenting that I didn’t do nearly all the activities that I planned for the summer and I’ll ponder where the time escaped to, but for now I’ll be up early, maybe not to see the sunrise, but still early and I’ll enjoy the long days, mild temperatures and enjoy the possibilities that June brings

Peace and Love,

John