California

Becoming a Better Friend/Leaving All My Friends

It’s June 5th; this means we have 25 sunny (foggy) days left in California. Time has been flying. I didn’t quite realize how fast it was flying until June 1st came around. Really? It’s June???

It hit me like a pile of time bricks… if that’s a thing…

Five of our six California months have been spent. Geez… In a few days we’ll be flying to Rochester to look for places to stay. When we get back we’ll have another couple weeks here; sooner or later, though, July 1st will roll around and I’ll have to say goodbye to all my California friends and family once more.

July 1st we drive back to Idaho to square up our belongings; sometime in August we’ll make—what I’m dubbing—The Great Drive.

(Confused? About Me is a good place to go to catch up)

Good at Leaving

About four years ago I left California for Coeur D’Alene, Idaho. It was there I met my wife, started school, and got really cold. Originally, I was looking for a change of pace. I used to say, “God called me to Idaho;” truthfully, our signal has never been that strong. I just sort of ended up there.

Every time I leave California, whether it be a weekend visit, six month stay, or major life move, I’m reminded of the friendships I have here. The term friend doesn’t really cut it as much as the term family does.

There’s times where I feel just as connected to Randall, Patrick, Scott, Justin, Timmy, both Aaron Boyds, as I would my own brother or sister. Generally, these people have always been there for me. As I get older, I realize how much I’ve taken them for granted. These goofy, weird people.

Friendships Never Sink

When I was younger I assumed the world existed for my benefit. I thought my friends were suppose to be some sort of accessory—something that benefited me in the way I talked, looked, and spent my time. Consequently, I took way more than I received.

Remember that episode of 30 Rock where Liz Lemon dumps all of her problems on to Kenneth, and then Kenneth goes crazy and needs therapy? I think that’s what I did to the majority of my friends. I really wouldn’t be surprised if they were all in therapy.

That said, I’m trying to be a better friend. I’m trying to be a better person, in general. I’m hoping to give more than I take. This includes listening more than talking, or not turning every conversation into something about me.

My friends have stood by me all these years, despite my selfishness. I hope I will get the opportunity to stand by them someday.

We’re starting to get a little older; responsibilities are starting to pile up. But when we get together, we still laugh as much as ever. We pick up right where we left off and I feel at home.

I guess, what I’m getting at, is that I don’t want to leave my friends again. I know that I’ll have to, but this time it wont be as easy.

Cheezy Friendship Gallery

A few photos, recent and old. I guess I’m being emotional or something.

2013: Patrick, Randall, and I
2013
2013, Kevin & The Wonder Years reunion jam
2013: Beard and some Randall
2009: Ireland Trip
2008: Timmy & Garrett sing me a goodbye song
Kevin & the Wonder Years (Last show, I think?)
2007 or 08: 80s Party
2006 or 07: Me and Timmy,
Sometime 2004 or earlier

Short Story: Jake’s Jacket

The water’s just too damn cold.

Jake stood on the shore of California’s blue expanse, examining its horizon, noting the abnormalities under it. The ocean seemed empty to Jake. Sure, there was life teeming underneath, but nothing above he could see. The waves tumbled; the sea foam, in clockwork, came and went—hugging Jakes’s ankles, offering shallow solace.

Born on a farm in Pennsylvania, standing now, ankle deep, at the edge of existence. How did I—

“Why don’t you come back in?” Michael’s voice stole Jake away from his thoughts. He reached out his hand, “Let’s talk.” Michael’s body, not yet in the water but just out of grasp of the ocean’s reaching, rippling fingers, awaited response.

A black dot broke the surface in the closest series of waves.

“There!” pointed Jake, his arm outstretched, “Do you see it?” He laughed. A black seal broke the surface twenty yards or so from where they stood. “He’s come to watch me die,” Jake turned around and met Michael’s stare, offering a deflated grin,  “and you too?”

“Come on out.”

“DON’T!” Jake yelled, closing his eyes and breathing heavily. “NO!” He began to scream. Michael shot his hands in the air.

“Nothing in my hands.” Michael signaled, “Nothing in my hands.”

– – –

Inching slowly, ever so slowly, Michael approached Jake. Cold seeped in through Michael’s shoes and bit his skin. Jake had since opened his eyes and was reexamining the water. Finally, the two stood side-by-side; Jakes’s explosive vest was visible to Michael for the first time.

“Every inch you move is another towards death, my friend.”

“There’s no gun…”

“… so its been since birth.”

Michael closed his eyes in defeat.

The seal again broke the surface and Jake smiled. “I’m glad you’re here.”

picstitch

A short story exercise, 300 words or less. My first in a while. Thoughts?

That One Time the Roof Caved in on Me

Memories from my past bubble to the surface every now and then. At times, they feel larger than life—tall-tale even, like in Big Fish. Since taking Psychology 101 last year, some memories have become suspect.

There’s this one memory I have; the one where the ceiling caves in on me. Until recently, I wasn’t sure it was real. I asked my older brother about it. In the memory, he’s the one who carries me to safety.

Quickly, here’s the memory: 

It’s an old white house in Paso Robles, California. Two stories, maybe, just one. I’m eight years old or so and scared to death of the Daddy Long Leg spiders that inhabit every corner of every room in the house. Everything is dirty and dusty. I hate it here.

“Kevin,” he yells. I wake up. The air is thick with dust and drywall; broken wood is everywhere. In fact, my bed is covered with it. I look over to my brother, standing beside the bed. He’s laughing. “You slept through it,” he says and laughs again.

Everything is confusing; I’m paralyzed with fear and can’t move. The next thing I know, my brother is carrying me out of our room and into the kitchen where everybody is listening to music and eating popsicles.

Party

My early years were quite… different than most. After the parents split up, my dad moved us around a lot. Life got weird. Shady, actually, is a better term.

We were those obnoxious, trashy neighbors. The ones with the loud, late night parties, or fights that ended with clothes on the lawn and the cops being called. That was us.

Sorry neighbors.

“They were partying in the next room,” my brother said. Last year, we reminisced about our childhood and I asked him about this event. “We came out of the room,” he continued, “covered from head to toe in drywall dust. No one knew it happened. I think it was the music that caused the ceiling to fall. The bass.”

“And I slept through it?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “you slept right through it. I thought you were dead.”

Guardian Angles 

It seems a little self-absorbed to claim this event as a miracle of God. Honestly, I’m really not that important. It could’ve just been dumb luck.

Still though, I think back to the broken wood in and around my bed—some pieces large and quite dangerous. All I know is that the ceiling caved in, one ugly night in Paso Robles, California, and two young boys were spared.

In times like these, I’m reminded that I need to live my life in a worthy way. Not because I survived my childhood or because a ceiling caved in on me, but because I was born at all.

Life is an opportunity and everyday among it a unique gift. Don’t wait for tomorrow or you may just get crushed to death by your own ceiling.

“If I live the life I’m given, I won’t be scared to die.”

What are your thoughts? Do you have any good memories from your childhood you suspect are false? What is your response to living life as a gift? 

Versatile Blogger Award!

versatileblogger111Well, well, well. Looksy what eye’s got here. A bloddy blawgah award! (Can you tell I’m in a good mood?)

I was recently nominated for a Versatile Blogger Award by Adeline from Dancing in the Storm. She writes a great blog about her faith, her marriage, and her missionary work. She says that writing keeps her “grounded,” reading her posts does the same for me. Thanks Adeline!

Embarrassingly I must admit, a couple months ago I was nominated for this by Tony from his amazing blog, A Way With Words. Tony, thank you. I’m sorry this took me so long! Simply, your blog inspires me to be a better writer.

To accept the award, I have to tell Adeline and Tony seven things about me. Let’s keep this brief.

Seven About Kevin 

1. I started the year in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho; the next day moved to San Luis Obispo, California. By Fall, Rochester, New York will be my home.

2. Science fiction is my favorite fiction genre. I grew up watching The X-Files, and reading books about UFOs and conspiracy theories. I’m currently reading Sphere by Michael Crichton and it’s awesome.

3. I never wanted to sing, nor have I ever been good at it. Yet, I’ve fronted a local rock band AND led worship at various churches through the years. The microphone has always had it out for me.

4. Singer/Songwriters that inspire me: Denison Witmer, Ben Folds, The Avett Brothers.

5. Oddly enough, Ecclesiastes is my favorite book in the bible.

6. I’m married to a great girl named Megan. She puts sunscreen on my back. The beach and I have since reunited.

7. Favorite Movies: The Truman Show, Indiana Jones & The Last Crusade, A Bronx Tale, Empire Strikes Back, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!

Fifteen I’ve Nominated 

Around the time Tony nominated me, I had just taken up blogging again (at least, on a consistent basis). I wasn’t really sure what a blog award was.

Also, I was a wordpress hermit—there weren’t 15 other bloggers I knew to nominate.

Times have changed; we have microwave ovens now. I read more than I write, and I’m writing better because of it. The best part of this award is that I get to give this gift that was graciously given to me.

Here you go; you all deserve this (in no order):

1. Immortal Nobody

2. ArcSurf

3. Wild Magik II

4. Dream A Lot Louder

5. apprentice2jesus

6. Merely David

7. Gabriel Garfield

8. My Sanguine Life

9. The Misfit Christian

10. Roots Like Oaks

11. Mark Block

12. Steak and a Bible

13. Pastor’s Ponderings

14. Hiking to Healthy

15. Omnia’s World

Thanks again Adeline and Tony. You guys are the best. I’m very, very grateful for this award.

Now on with the show!

That Dam Lopez Lake or: (How I Learned to Drive a Boat)

I’ve been boogie boarding quite a bit lately. Getting back into the water has been an enthralling adventure—even despite the Pacific Ocean’s three constants: it’s always cold, it’s always windy, and it’s always cold.

Sometimes, a feller just needs a warm lake and a boat.

Megan and I moved from Coeur d’Alene, Idaho to San Luis Obispo, California this year. North Idaho has no ocean (which I hope you know), but does have close to three-billion lakes in it’s vicinity (mildly exaggerating). Needless to say, visiting lakes was not a priority for us.

A friend of mine recently purchased the Lopez Lake Marina, and I’ve been desperate to see what he’s done with the place. So we went to a lake.

Orcutt Road

Our day started with a beautiful drive on the backroads of San Luis Obispo. There’s a great little curvy road which takes you straight (well, curvy) towards the lake. We call it old Orcutt road.

Wineries have blossomed on just about every hillside. My friend Aaron put it this way, “at least they’re covering hills with grapes and not with houses and Costcos.” It’s true. Despite my reservations regarding these fast-expanding wineries, the beauty of these old SLO roads are protected. (more…)

Matlock, The Angel of Death

Since last week’s wetsuit incident, I’ve been thinking about my failing youth. A good friend once told me that getting old is a process of many realizations. The first and most important, is understanding that the world doesn’t revolve around you.

I would amend this statement by saying hurting your back is definitely the first sign.

Have you ever pulled a muscle in your back? Geez. It’s terrible. You have to buy heat/ice packs and think about what type of shoes you’re wearing.

Andy Griffith and Carol Huston star in Matlock.Just put on Matlock already; I’m done. Count me out.

Getting Older

We were at a small group last night, and one of the couple’s kids starting spinning in the middle of the floor. He thought we were all there to watch him.

It made me think about my friend’s statement—the one at the top.

I used to be like that kid. Everybody used to be my audience and I’d always have the floor. What’s changed?

Is it my understanding of adult civility, a mellowing out of my extroverted nature, is it something else?

Getting old has it’s privileges. I’ve talked to many people about it. There was one lady I got to know at my old job in Idaho. She claimed she didn’t feel comfortable in her own skin until she turned 50.

That’s cool, I guess.

Wife Proverbs

Yesterday Megan and I walked to the end of the Avila Beach pier. As usual, I complained about everything. My back. How I couldn’t boogie board anymore. My world was over.

She said, “You know, the world doesn’t end just because you can’t do something.”

She was right, as usual. The world doesn’t revolve around me. I’m getting older.

I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it but enjoy the ride. Enjoy each day I have, hurt back or not.

Sometimes though, I’m selfish and I want to be young again. Not a teenager, not even 21. I want to be 6 or 7. I want to be back at that place; the place where I’m spinning in front of the room. Where everyone is looking at me. They didn’t come to see me, but now they are.

photo

From the Avila Beach Pier

Would that be so bad?

As usual, I’d love to hear some feedback. Any advice on getting older? Any advice on pulled backs? A good Matlock episode?