WATERDROPS ON FIRE
Guns are the hashtagged, trigger generating, all mighty keyword in a hot topic conversation en masse, where they’re the slow guy in a robbery scene, and they’re the ones left holding the bag.
But like any problem that holds us all hostage, there is no one simple solution. Doing something about all the guns that are in all the hands they should not be in, is part of the solution, but it’s gonna take a lot of want, and a lot of give, and a lot of that grimy, mud wrestling, down in the dirt, back and forth, heart wrenching give and take, to figure out how to find all the solutions, and how to put them all to work. Together. As a well-oiled machine against anguish and death.
ONE THOUSAND YEARS (Poem)
If I could lie beside you, and softly stroke your hair
While worlds break down around me, I’d think that to be fair
To be there in your presence, to kiss your day good night
To feel the warmth pour from you, cast by your inner light
I'd feel so complete that,
it would fill my inner core
Except to hold you in my arms,
one thousand years or more
So I took a walk today
Cause I kind of wanted to hear
What nature had to say
When it whispered in my ear
And I walked past all these houses
With their windows opened wide
Hearing snippets of the stories
Of the lives that lived inside
Always (Poem) (Written many moons ago)
Thoughts of you are constant,
the smiles wistful,
and intermittent many times throughout the day.
You will always come to mind,
on the days when the sun rises,
and the moon comes out at night.
I think time, both speeds up and slows down, as you get older. Not at any specific age, but whatever age a person is when they finally realize time is running out. Maybe not next month or next year, but whenever that very late stage of life hits you.
Quite possibly, it speeds up because your body fails more frequently and more easily. The increments when you feel older than before get closer and closer, like highway mile markers as you drive faster. Maybe life just seems to speed up because you desperately want it to slow down. On the other hand, maybe it slows down because as you enter into those later years, the details of life, the micro parts, develop a routine and life of their own.
I’ve been talking a lot with my father lately. That part isn’t unusual. He’s almost 95,
You…. were born with buckets.
Not the kind of buckets that hold water, but the kind of buckets that reside inside, and hold the things you hate about yourself.
When will I cease to be
Drift away, drift away
I won’t be me to you someday
When will I die to you
Fade to black, fade to black
Once I’m gone I can’t come back
Inside The Outside (Poem)
The old man shuffles away slowly,
each movement making joints ache
in a discordant cacophony.
a trial of balance.
But inside, he is young, proud,
and full of a life and spirit
from a younger man’s day.
Your Lipsticked Lips (Lyrics)
Your lipsticked lips
Brush against my fingertips
And chills crawl up my spine
I’ve known it since I met you
That I just got to get to
Make you mine, mine all mine
I'm tired and it's time to go, it's been a long road.
I've lived such a cherished life, and I’m not owed
I've done my share and I know, I've had my say.
And in my heart I know that, I don't regret a day.
But now it's time that I drift my way back home
From where I came, I'm going back there now
I'll be leaving all the ones I love and know
But now it's time for me to go back home
Don't you cry for me sweet baby, wipe your eyes for me sweet girl
I'll be in your heart sweet baby, don't you cry for me sweet girl
Don't you cry for me sweet baby, wipe your eyes for me sweet girl
I'll be in your heart sweet baby, don't you cry for me sweet girl
Growing Into Myself
My wife and I were getting ready to go out with another couple for dinner. She was changing, and I was just lying on the bed, playing with my phone. She asked me if I was going to change. If I hadn’t gotten the feeling she was trying to send me a message, I might have been more open to the possibility, but I did get that feeling, and I ended up telling her I was probably going to go the way I was.
This was after, earlier in the week, I left the house to go to work dressed in a way she didn’t feel was appropriate. We disagreed then too, and I left without changing.
I’ll admit, I become kind of obstinate in those circumstances, maybe because so much of my life is out of my control. Whether it’s managing my business, taking care of my family, or maintaining our home, how I conduct my own life is the only thing I actually have control over. So maybe I have a heightened awareness of not giving any of that control away. Which doesn’t mean I’m totally self-centered. I just want to be the one who is in control of me, without feeling obligation to someone else’s judgement.
Either way, my wife reacted by getting angry and telling me it seemed like I didn’t
MOMENTS OF UNKNOWN SIGNIFICANCE
I often think about all the milestones that mark a life, all the real significant moments that go by with hardly any thought at all.
For instance... a 48 year old ... this very day, this very minute, may be at the exact mid-point of his or her entire life. It's like... "Wow! Ninety six years, and this is the exact middle!". And yet... it just goes by and there's no thought to it at all. We don't even know it. It's hugely significant in a "lifetime achievement" kind of way. Every one of us goes through their mid-life point in time, and not one single one of us can
"You're either a racist, a non-racist, or an anti-racist. And until there's zero racism, two of those three are part of the problem".
The Dichotomy Of Experience
I was caught the other night in what could only be described as a classic “Shower Thought”.
There are a lot of experiences men and women share.
A lot of them are perceived similarly…. Driving, maybe eating a meal, bowling.
Some of them are perceived differently, but usually there’s something thrown in that makes the actual situation different for each. For instance, a husband and wife could go to the same hospital at the same time, but really, it’s the mother giving birth, and the father feeling a bit helpless or faint.
I think there’s very few circumstances as similar and as opposite at the same time, as the classic “Bar Scene”.
"We're all just a bunch of weirdos on top of a bell curve, walking each other home"
History will elevate not those who rode the waves, but those who stood against the tide.
We All Did It
****This was originally written in September of 2006, when my daughter was nine years old...
My 9 year old daughter forgets things all the time. She'll forget her binder, she'll forget her glasses, she'll forget to clean up after herself. Basically, if something was supposed to be done, and she was supposed to do it, there's a good chance she'll have forgotten it. "But I forgot!" is usually the phrase I hear just before the reprimand comes. I can't be alone in all this. There must be a billion other parents who hear the same thing. Every day.
Why am I sure of that? Because I used to say it all the time when I was her age. It takes effort, but I have to remember that. I said it so often, my sister nicknamed me “Coma”. As a matter of fact, I said it so many times, I even developed a theory for it that I tried, unsuccessfully, to use to my advantage. It went something like... "But if I forgot, then I wasn't thinking about it. I can’t be disobeying if it wasn’t even in my mind. So how can I be faulted for not doing something I wasn't even conscious of?" Not bad for a little kid.
The fact that I thought it up in the first place though, probably means I needed to because I forgot so often. It helps me now when my daughter forgets something. I know I have to teach her responsibilities, but it helps to keep in mind that she's 9, and 9 year old kids will do that. It's been that way forever. Or at least since I was 9.
*** I’m putting a disclaimer here, as I probably should with most of what I write. It would be easy to challenge that my premise doesn’t cover every single aspect of life. So here goes… disclaimer…. my premise doesn’t cover every single aspect of life. I know there are situations people are not to blame for. This is just one person’s opinion for what I think covers a wide swath. I understand there are exceptions.
Sometimes, it’s hard to be honest with someone. Maybe you don’t want to hurt them, or you don’t like confrontation, or you’re embarrassed, but whatever the reason, it can be difficult to be honest with others at times. And if you’re good enough, sometimes, you can get away with that lack of complete honesty.
However, by far, the most difficult person to be completely honest with, is you. Lying to yourself is easy. And if you want to believe it bad enough, you will. It can even become second nature.
Self-deception happens because you don’t want to believe certain things about yourself. You do something inconsiderate, ...
THINGS THAT TICK ME OFF
Let’s talk about things that really tick me off. Why? I’m not sure, except it feels better if someone else knows them. Especially if I can get someone to jump into my emotional stew along with me.
For a couple of these things, my own lack of insight keeps me from understanding their reasoning. I’m sure there are reasons. And even though I recognize that, my perspective is just weird enough to amuse myself, so I’m sticking with it. With some of the other items, they aren’t amusing at all. They just tick me off.
One last note…I’m sure, if I thought harder, I’d discover this is just a partial list. I should put a “#1” after the title, because there will probably be a “#2” sometime in the future.
Here we go…
Issue #1 – “Frozen Butter Patties”.
A DASH THROUGH THE DASH
(I started writing this in 2007. It's now 2020. I hope I didn't rush things)
As a noun, it’s just a little line. As a verb, you hurry through a moment. Those two kinds of dashes are related in a way that I consider almost tragic.
Most people don’t think of the dash as anything except a small, insignificant little line.
And yet, it represents the most important thing ever known to man.
MY WEEKEND WITH MARLEE
Something I wrote one night way back in 2003, after getting back from a camping weekend with my daughter Marlee...
I got back a little while ago from “My Weekend With Marlee”. The big annual once a year “Father/Daughter” tent camping weekend. The Marlee part was great. The weather part… well… part of it was pretty bad, a little was really nice, and the rest was hot and sticky. But the Marlee part overshadowed the weather, so it was okay with me. Considering the point to the whole weekend is to completely devote time just between dad and daughter, it was a wonderful time.
We arrived about 5 PM on Friday, and we were lucky. It was pouring. But since I’m such a fantastic forecaster, I deemed it might start raining even harder… and not stop. So we decided to make the most of it and started setting up camp in what I would consider only a slight downpour.
Because of my amazing forecasting talents, I had thought ahead and had taken a “groundcover” to put under the tent to separate the dry tent from the soaking wet ground. I positioned the groundcover down in just the right spot.
Next was the tent. Of course, by the time we went to put the tent down, the ground cover was soaked. So we tried drying it off… in the downpour. That took half the towels we had brought with us. And it only took half because we had brought extra. It also only took half because we eventually gave up trying to dry off the groundcover in the pouring rain. We now have the tent down on a soaking groundcover that’s there to keep the tent from sitting on a wet ground. Nice!
(Something I wrote back in 2013. When I was much less mature. Okay... who am I kidding...)
I enjoy a pastime called “Curb Jumping” which is a very close cousin to “Cliff Jumping". And as you know, cliff jumping is extremely dangerous.
I, being the dangerous man I am, fit the profile perfectly. Particularly since, being in New Haven CT, the only real cliffs I come across are curbs, which tend to mitigate a lot of the danger.
However, I still must feed my wild side, so every so often, I'll put on my helmet and gloves and get all my line and rope and footwear and everything on and go jumping.
Obviously, in a city like New Haven, finding a good curb is pretty easy, although the steeper ones... 6... maybe 8 inches... are a little harder. Of course, when you're dangerous like myself, looking a little harder for the big ones is worth it, especially when you have a reputation for danger.
Most likely, people look at me in awe when they see me on the weekends. I see them pointing... speaking under their breath, waiting for me to jump. Sometimes, I'll stand there... breathing deeply.... gathering myself on the edge of a particularly high curb... stoking the anticipation. Some onlookers laugh as they try to hide the fear they feel inside for me.
And then.... as they wait... holding their collective breaths.... I raise my arm.... my signal that I am about to leap.... the adrenaline rushing through me.... silence around me.... they stare.... I am so dangerous to them.... and then... I leap. A rush of air inevitably hits my face as I leave the confines of mother earth. Ploop.... I hit the street and raise my hands in triumph!
The onlookers are, as always it seems, speechless. I have done it again.
POLITICS AS SPORT
Politics have become a game of sport, where one side constantly tries to defeat the other, in a competition that can't truly be won unless everyone wins. As fans, rooting for the other side's failure, is like hoping the other team's stadium implodes while you're sitting in it.
May a warm wind come down from the skies, whisking you away, taking you on a journey through the stars, across universes untraveled.
While you ride in the warm arms of the wind, may you see spectacular glitter, and colors unimagined.
May you be swept to the edge of the universe, traveling through time and space to galaxies never before traversed, wishing upon shooting star after shooting star, hearing the silence of nothing go by. The sky around you black and seemingly shiny, with billions of tiny lights in the distance, each becoming extraordinary large as you sail by silently with a speed unmeasured in the vastness of night space.
May you see life, beautiful life, intelligent, loving, playful, and always friendly, as you speed your way through time, and may the warm winds hold you and give you comfort as you ride your trip of a lifetime.
Colors unimagined, bright and deep, play like fireworks upon the black canvas around you, silent, quiet, yet filling you with a wholeness you have never felt in your life. A strange new sense invades you and gives you comfort, making you smile involuntarily, nodding to yourself as you go.
And may the warm wind bring you around and down once again, setting you gently in familiar surroundings, all knowledge gained, senses aroused, fulfilled, yet home again as you open your eyes.
A dream? Real?
You gain a better sense of your surroundings, acknowledging your life as you know it, and realize while you have just experienced something extraordinary, something you will never forget and will be able to experience again and again without ever being able to fully describe, maybe even to yourself, you also realize that you are earthbound, never having left your comfortable existence.
You sigh, somewhat disappointed, deciding you need to raise yourself and move. As you do, you gaze downward toward your arm, as some fine, powdery star dust falls off and lifts in the breeze.
David S. Chorney
This is where I'm supposed to write something about myself. I still have some hair left. I am still undecided which I like better, photography or painting. My four major food group are seafood, melted cheese, pasta, and Advil. I love the hunt of a finished piece of art. All quotes, essays, stories, and any other written piece on this website, are original and written by yours truly, unless otherwise noted.