a day without Hope

Flowers didn't seem to burn anymore. Nothing did. What didn't make me feel terrible made me feel numb. The walls are not closing in on me, they are falling away, which is much more terrifying if you ask me. I would much rather be snug than falling away. Nobody asks me though. I think later I will not want to be asked, but as of now I could use someone asking. Ask me anything. I cannot promise I will not lie.
I have lied before.
We should not get into that though. It is hurtful and I do like it. It does not make me feel good about thinking of past things.
(authors note; I know this song was sung by an orphan but let us be honest, it was a made up story and is now sung but anything but orphans.)
The sun will come up tomorrow they say, or at least that is what little girls like to sing. You never see a poor child singing that song. People who have no earthly problems are the only ones who worry that the sun will not come up in the morning. They have so much they want to do, places to see, people to love, pleasures to be had. Poor folk secretly pray that the sun will not make it up tomorrow. The pain and troubles ended before the end you. If you cannot finish the race, would it not make things better if a storm cancelled the whole event?
A bad day for a comfortable person is reason for depression because it is the lowest they have ever been. For one who has none, a bad day means the next day will be worse.
The pills and the 750 ml bottles seem to drag you through the shit worse than trudging through on your own. They say they will help you fly over or at least give you boots to wade through it, but it just allows you not smell it until its caked all over your body and in your mouth. Just walk through with your eyes ahead and at least you will see the parts of your body to wash when you are out. This whole world cannot be a field of filth yet.
The stupor and fog passes with the morning breeze. Walking down to the cafe helps scrape the film away. It is still there but I can see well enough. I can talk to people again. It is nice to be able to look at their faces instead of their shoes.
I have two dollars and twelve cents. That is a cup of coffee and one refill. I want to be thankful for the little things but it is hard when you realize what the little things cost.
I do not like to think of the night I became hopeless. Having a good time naturally brings me back to it though. I cannot experience good without remembering the good that was taken from me.
He did not have to shoot her. He could have took my wallet and her thin gold necklace and had a perfectly good time. Maybe he knew though. He knew that it would buy him only a few more days and nights of escape. Maybe this was his giving up. He knew the police would find him. He did not even hide. After he killed her and shot me, he just sat down on the curb and cried. I did not hate him. I could not believe him. He was not sorry he did it, he was sorry it came to it. He had no choice in his mind.
The police handcuffed him. He said he was sorry. He was not sorry he got caught, sorry he killed her and not sorry he was doomed. He was sorry he had to do it. Natures of man want to bring others with them wherever he goes. Up or down we want company. See you in hell or I'll join you in heaven. Whenever you go and wherever, take companions.
I could not work a job afterwards.
I lost most feeling in my right arm. My pelvis was shattered by his first shot and my spine on the second.
I lost the will to work. I do not receive anything as far as disabled payment. It goes to my medical bills and my nose plugs. Being estranged from your family offers little goodness when you are not independent or have no purpose in life.
I walk to my change jar. I receive five cents for my bottles. I found five dollars on the ground the other day. I have seven dollars and fifty eight cents. I do not know what to do with it.
I sit down and just look at it. There is no point in saving anything anymore.
I do not know what to spend it on.

Inspired by Christmas music in starbucks...

The Christmas music was still playing over the loud speakers in the coffee shop. It is serenely disturbing as Jingle Bells serenades a man dying as he bleeds out over his latte and bagel with cream cheese. Nobody likes a murder or even death but this one hurt. It is the holiday season and all were enjoying themselves. The couple in the big softies chattering to impress each other on their first date, the two old men playing chess and downing espressos religiously and the barista behind the counter smiling but wanting to be home. The barista is still smiling but the smile is stuck and unconscious when before it was forced and genuinely fake. I have never seen a murder. Now I have. I would like to explain to the police what happened and that would help them catch someone. I would be a hero and even receive a handshake. Alas, all I can tell is that someone walked into the shop as a person on holiday would walk. Strolling with little to no purpose. Meandering would be a good word. I'll use that.
Dashing through the snow..
I want to squelch the notion that murders are loud or dramatic. Well some are I am sure but this one was not. The man on holiday walked up to the man reading the newspaper. A handshake, a smile, a exchange of greetings, pulling him close and then four thrusts of a blade into the newspaper and through the stomach of it's reader. His hands coddle the man's confused face and then he walks towards the door with a small grin on his face. He stops at my table first and presents me with the knife. He tells me I have earned it. I guess so.
..on a one horse open sleigh..
That was it. The holiday skewer did not even run away. He walked. People are not even afraid of spilling the blood of people in coffee shops who read newspapers during the Christmas season. There was Christmas music playing. Has anyone ever died immediately after hearing "Happy Holidays to you."? I watched the man's blood soak his bagel and wondered if that bothered him. I hope it did not, he has enough to worry about at the moment. A new song as come on the speakers.
The weather outside is frightful...
I want to help this man but he is too far gone. I am sorry he is dying. I hope they catch that man on holiday. There is no excuse to interrupt the yule tide season. People have presents to buy and trees to decorate. Uncalled for really.
...but the fire is so delightful...
Turn off the incessant music. I cannot seem to get a grasp on what has happened with those tunes blocking out all ranges of emotions. Police officers are inside now with guns pulled and some paramedics are fussing over the newspaper and it's reader. They should stop. He is dead. I wish I did not have such sticky hands. The coppers are looking at me with odd looks on their face. The guns are pointed towards me. This is un safe I say. Doesn't a man have rights in this holiday season? I would like to finish my coffee please. I tell them this and they do not listen. Hands behind the back is uncomfortable. I am worried that the police officers have made a mistake as the knife is on my table.
They are not convinced by my oaths of innocence. The other customers have turned on me. They want justice.
...as long as you love me so, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...
Looking back I should have taken my pills but it was the holiday season I say. I will not subject myself to that any longer. I was a man on holiday, I did not need any pills telling me what to do. Merry Christmas I guess. I tell this to the police officer who handcuffs me. No response. I am not sure holidays mean the same to everyone.

Where does it stop and start?

Let us define phrases. Living for today. So ignored and so misused. I think.  How do we live day by day (by day, by day, by day oh lord) and not be terrible stewards of our lives? What does that mean? Is it sensible to do this at all? What happens when we plan for tomorrow and then forget about where you are walking?
I have lots of daily questions.
I have few daily answers.
I think that is okay...
Living for today. Do not say tomorrow I will go here or there and do this or that.
Constant worry/planning/hoarding about the future blinds us to world around us. People are stuck in time and space and out bodies are still not fully severed from out Adamistic Doom. Meaning we are going to die sometime. I have heard so many people talk about regrets they have about their loved ones death, wishing they had spent more time with them or told them they loved them the last time the talked. (authors note: look how many words start with L or T in that last sentence.) As I have become older I have finally started to realize the importance of saying "I love you" to friends and family members when I hang up the phone. Suck the marrow from the time you spend with people. We do not know when our string is cut.
I do not want to live just today and go bankrupt tomorrow.
How do we balance living today and being stewards?
I think the door swings on obsession.
Do not be obsessed with anything. Today is happening. You are alive today and maybe tomorrow. Which should you pick to focus on? You can live today and set up things for tomorrow without losing sight of the person in front of you. Do what you can but don't throw all your chips in for anything but Christ.
To hedge one's bets is a sin.
I am living today, so I will drink and enjoy this cup of coffee. I will cook dinner, enjoy it and give thanks for the provision. I will not max out 3 credit cards or take a loan that I never plan to pay off because I think I shouldn't plan for tomorrow. That is what a fool would do. The world could end tomorrow but it also could go on for 10,000 more years. How do you want to look or what do you want to be doing with the trumpet sounds? I want to be sitting with friends or family, enjoying a meal or reading a book. Live this life for Him and I promise you will have time to go see some wonders of The World later.
I do not know if I have made any sense yet so I shall stop.

Golf...who likes it?

I do. So went to the DMV yesterday and got six points for doing what the intimidating woman in my passenger seat called a "California rolling stop". I am not sure what that really means or entails but I do know that is I gathered ten points that I would fail the test for the Chauffeurs license thus losing my regular licence until I could pass the test all over again. I know how to drive, I know most traffic laws but having someone who must find it painful to smile sitting in your very small car, writing things as you turn right, turn left and parallel park is a wee bit stressful. Did I mention that this cali rollin stop was at the stop sign of the parking lot out of the DMV? It was. Anyways I passed. Did I attempt to butter the instructor up the rest of the test? Yes, yes I did. Did it work? You tell me, I have a chauffeur's licence in my wallet now.
After this ordeal, my work training got cancelled. HUZZAH! So I called the roommate and we went golfing. Here are some things I notice and love/hate about the "game" of golf.
Golf should not be called a game. Games do not cause men in their mid twenties to have cardiac issues relating to rage. SkipBo, that is a game. Golf is something more. Maybe it is closer to a job. I do not make much money from it, most of the time I am ill-tempered whilst doing it and I perform much better is I am drinking beer.
Physics are stupid. I hate them. The whole issues of spin really chaps my backside. If small dimpled balls did not spin in certain directions I would be a phenomenal golfer. Maybe I would not be able to hit the ball at all but at least I would not hit it at a 90 degree angle any longer.
Being awesome at Tiger Woods PGA 2004 does not make you even slightly good in real life. I struggle with the fact that getting on the green is basically one shot away from being done with the hole. This is true for me on the video game. In real life I am usually about 3-4 shots away. FYI this is also true with guitar playing and guitar hero.
Lastly, golf is life. You can play like a no good hack for 17.3 holes BUT on that 18th hole you hit a spectacular drive, and Mickelson like approach, and drain that put like Jack at Augusta. You love this "game", you feel on top of the world, you forget two holes back when you tossed you pitching wedge farther than you just hit your ball. That is life. You have trials and tribs out the wazoo (sp?) and then God gives you a sliver of mercy and all is balanced, all is good.
Fore.

Great, Sun, Morning, Awe and some coffee

Had a spectacular camp fire with some friends last night. The fire was hot, the brews frosty and the conversation would have kept Professor Slughorn's hour glass still.
The topic of sun in the morning came up. How it can lift the spirits and bring forth immediate worship. I am at a coffee shop this morning and I got to watch the sun rise in The East and elation, contentment and mercy filled me. God's print is in all of nature but there are certain things that really strum with me.
Mountains. Majestic and scary. They can strike fear in me as well as my utmost humility.
Sunrises. Rebirth, new day and all that. The sun is such a gift. The daily sign that life goes on and we are not alone.
late for work now because of the stars in my eyes.

The Autumn List it is!

Lists are great. It is a lazy way for me to tell people things that I would not be able to in normal natural conversation. I get to shove my thoughts into all ya'lls faces. So it is Autumn but it is waning quickly. Life seems to speed up the more complicated it gets. That is a terrible thing to me. I guess that is why people who are constantly going and moving so often lose track of themselves or others.  Taking time to slow down and savor is not part of our culture anymore. I digress...
Here is one way I can try and slow my life down. By making a list, sometimes I am able to at least recognize what I love and what touches me.
So The Autumn...

Leaves. Crunchy, colorful, musty, aromatic...the adjectives could go on forever. I love when the leaves turn on the trees. The seem to symbolize the somber atmosphere descending, like elves leaving Middle Earth. I spent alot of football practices in college simply look at the collage of changing foliage. This may have contributed to my lack of playing time but I think my shortness of talent did mostly.

Flannel. I would wear flannel all year if I could. I mean I can but I tend to become smelly hot garbage when I attempt it in the summer. I was fortunate enough to have three close friends in college who all shared my love for the flannel shirt. James, Josiah and Jake. We really did make them cool again. I was saddened by the hipness factor they have now accumulated. I guess I am just being selfish though.

Coffee. Coffee makes my list for all seasons but it is especially grand in the fall months. Crisp mornings are brightened and illuminated by a fresh hot brew. Hurray.

Seeing my breath. Friends have witnessed my boyish joy I show once the warm moisture molecules from my lungs hit the cool air and cause steam. I realize you will think this stupid but this is my list not yours...and its the little things in life and all that.

Oktoberfest Style Beer. Best kind of beer hands down. Rich, frothy, amber, bursting with flavor. Gosh what more could you want.

Sitting in coffee shops with or without friends. I am doing this right now. It is great. Sit, read, talk, listen, drink, watch. Sounds like a pretty fulfilled life if you ask me.

Camp Fires. This is a multi-lister as well but oh well. Fire is always great unless it is burning you.

Fantasy Football. I like to watch football games but I have to admit that I am not a die hard fan anymore. It is hard for me to watch an entire game anymore. I do however love looking at my team during the week and writing mean/comical posts that degrades my fellow league members or myself. I also enjoy picking Star Wars themed team names. This year I am the Rebel Alliance. We are terrible but I like to write that we are good.

I do not like frost on my car windows though and that comes with Autumn as well. Good thing I can now park my car in a garage. I feel this will cut down on the number of days I get "sick" on work days this year.

Cheers 

The Ache for Further Up and Further In.

Everywhere I am I yearn for something else. I live in small town Kansas, I yearn for something exciting and busy. I live in Chicago, I wanted to be in Africa. I live in the mountains of Utah and yearned for closeness of family and even missed the Midwest autumn. I live in Des Moines and see pictures of mountains and it makes me miss the mist covered mountains.
The grass is never greener on the other side is that other side is just another place here on earth. I am constantly frustrated by my restlessness and want of being somewhere.
I am reading some of Tolkien's early middle earth creation literature right now (yes i am super dorky and hope i stay that way) and it has, as does Lewis' Narnia stories, so many references and themes of man being in a world that is not his/her own any longer. The metaphysical longing of something/someone/some place that is not yet here or we are not quite at yet is all over.
I truly do want and long to be in Africa for a very long time. I do want to live in Chicago maybe again if I stay here in the States. I do love being around my family and friends. These longings of comfort or completeness are, I think, the shadow or echo of my true longing. To be in the place where the colors are no longer images of reflected light but visions of the True Light. To finally be completed as Man and for my nature to be as it should be. No longer broken and vile. No longer wanting. To finally see the Glory the all sunsets/sunrises, mountains, music, love, birds, books, smiles, seas, winds, prairies, leaves, creatures reflect as shadows on a cave wall. Follow the dogs for they are headed Further Up and Further In.

Lets Get Intimate

There is such thing as too much of a good thing. Too much beer/wine/whiskey assists in terrible rants about eternity, head aches and very bad gas. Too much coffee results in my hands and toes shaking uncontrollably and the urge to take part in some sort of counter culturally activity(at least for me). Too much spare time results in 8:30 PM trips to Starbucks to partake in aforementioned good thing. Too many books CAN result in a loss of touch with actually people. This is not always so terrible to me but you know. Too much thinking can result in psychosis and second guessing your every move. Too much technology can result in untalented but inspired people to have the audacity to blog their thoughts on thoughtsofawannabenathan.blogspot.com. Too much sugar and saturated fats result in a fairly rotund belly and an addition to the chin God gave humans. Too much religion can result in a  crazy dogma and loss of relationship with Christ and people. Too much lack of religion can result ridiculous personalized spirituality where you are never wrong and decisions like wanting your friends to all wear the same jump suits and shoes right before you drink poison kool-aid.
Well I guess consistency in our lives is good. They are kicking me out of starbucks now and my hands shake as i type this.

10 years.

I stood in the hallway of Eureka Jr Sr High, leaning against the wall with a few of my friends waiting for class to start. Someone walked up and said it. "Did you guys see the news? Someone hit the World Trade Center with a plane."
I almost laughed. I thought he was kidding or if he was serious it had to be a single prop plane and tragically a few people may have died. Obviously I was wrong. I was stunned, scared, enraged and thought any retribution we gave to the terrorists was deserved and good. Ten years later the rage is gone. Sadness is there and pity. Pity for the families of the victims, pity for the families of the terrorists and most of all pity for the terrorists. How could a person justify killing thousands of people and think that God would be pleased. I get ill thinking of this.

Love your enemies. How do we do this as Christians? As terrible as the attacks were, Christ calls us to love those who were responsible for them. I know I myself cannot do this but Christ who is in me can. I cannot forgive them but I can do all things in Christ who strengthens me. As Christians we will be persecuted, we will see tragedy, we will lose those we love here on earth and we are called to love all of those who bring pain and hurt into our lives. The early Christians were fed to lions, boiled alive, skinned, raped,  nailed to crosses, beheaded and hunted. Yet the Church survived, even grew by THOUSANDS each year. They loved their enemies and by the love of Christ in them, they touched those who persecuted them. God help us to emulate them.

Ten years later I am still forgiving and trying to love.

Roots

I read a quote somewhere that said in so many words that when you think back fondly of your hometown, that it is your childhood you miss, not the place. Obviously this person did not grow up in Neal, Kansas. I was pseudo day-dreaming as I listened to the Blitzen Trapper song "Furr" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmBgxP56R1I&ob=av2n which made me yearn for some sort of Walden Pond. As I left consiousness and floated above my own body I got the feeling of total and absolute oneness. Ha sorry. No but really what came to me was that I grew up in one big Walden Pond. What did Walden have that is so attractive? Let us explore the qualities. Solitude- This one is almost too easy If you do not believe me please look at google maps and type in Neal, KS. If one wants to get away from people you do not need to hardly leave Neal, there is something like 35 people living there, give or take 5-10. If you take a mile bike ride in any direction you come to places where only neanderthals and coyotes have ever been. Next Walden had inclusion into nature. Some of my fondest memories are spending entire days on Homer Creek just fishin, throwing rocks, make believing, sleeping, and exploring. I never remember it being too hot or too humid to go out and about on "my river". Thanks extra weight and A.C. Next, W.P. had a sense of escape. Now I know this is close to solitude and leaning too much towards escape rather than solitude is not good but let me try and clarify what my mind thinks. Ha. Solitude is extended time to be alone both physicaly and mentally. It is time for self-reflection and introspection, for pondering metaphysics and theology. Escape is something to be used sparingly and shortly. There are times when one is over stressed or just plain angry. You do not want to, and maybe should not, go and think or meditate on things so what you need is something to vent your pent up feelings or to break away from something weighing on you. You escape. I could always head to my river and escape. No judgements, scoldings, pressing needs or fear. I could yell at the trees, throw logs in the water or just lay in the grass and veg out. (pardon the pun) What is great about escapes is that they can evolve so easily into sanctuary and solitude. One should hardly ever act when in high emotion or deep depression. Once you have gotten a little more even keeled meditation is what should come next. In this way you can plug back into your life with others.

I love that I am from such a simple and mystical place. I was not born there but I spent most of my life there so far. When I visit the ma and pa time slows down and creeps along with the languidly of a lazy heifer in a bluestem pasture. (that is a cow I believe) Don't worry if you have never heard that term, it's just stuff we cow folk of Neal, America use. I feel badly sharing this with you and know that most people in the world will never experience the Neal Valley.  If you ever get the urge to wade in Rocky Ford or fish for perch in Bert and Jan's creek, I'm sure my parents will give you a tour in their now famous Go-kart. Yes, they are in the Neal 4th of July Parade.

 Getting there will be the hard part, I think the Yates Center Municipal Airport is open if you can fly in nothing bigger than this.

P.S.

The picture at the top is not the house I grew up in. It is one of the fine buildings on "main street". I believe it is supposed to be haunted.

No letter cursing please, the library is supposed to be partially quiet

I recently purchased Lewis Carroll's set of tales, Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass so I have decided to explore words beginning with the letter "F".

Friendship. I just spent a week sleeping on my two best friends dream inducing sofa. I was up in Des Moines taking part in Official Hogwarts business but in addition to that I ate succulent ribs cooked by Jake, phenomenal fajitas from Tim and Kelly, played more Tiger Woods 2004 golf than is good for anyone, shopped at the second best book store in America with Molly (first in price though, if you have not gone to Half Price Books in Des Moines and you love books, well you should go.), played childish yet immensely fun pool games such as dodge the torpedo, catch the torpedo, baseball, breath holding and arm spin contests. This is really probably not interesting to you at all but my point is if you are unemployed and have a week or so to go hang out with close friends then you definitely should because nothing helps your soul so much as people around you who love you and you love. As much as I like Simon and Garfunkel  we are not meant to be alone ala Genesis 2:18, our nature as creatures is too need affection in some way and to be truly full, give affection in some way. As much as I love and in some ways understand the teachings and writings of the Desert Fathers, I will say where they fall short is the lack of emphasis they put on the joy we are supposed to take in each other. The point here is that I am blessed beyond belief in the friendships I have in reality across America.

Next word, Fallen.

Sat in on a Bible/devotional study with my friend and his father in law and discussed the idea of sin/redemption/Christ etc.. and I was reminded to what I constantly need reminded of, we are fallen and despicable and need the absolute grace of Christ for Life. What makes this so terrible when I do not meditate on this fact is that not only do I suffer myself, I cannot approach anything in my life, be it a job, relationships, witness, philosophy or what have you, in any sort of a correct way. Once we have the saving grace working out the constant salvation is terribly hard but nothing in this world matters if we stop doing it as Solomon tragically found out. So I guess I will have to continue to keep standing up. So the idea of fallen leads into a pair of words that come from the understanding of that word, failure and fresh. C.S. Lewis said that the Creator takes much joy in the fact that we get up and keep going. I do not want to fail or fall but if and when I do we are graced with fresh starts. Friendships and faith are ever so vital in stepping into our fresh starts after our failures, even though we are so fallen.

Well I feel as if I am rambleing so goodnight. Oh yes and I stayed with the Flinkmans whilst in Des Moines and that starts with F as well.

Oh here's a little nibble of my past. I hope it's not too salty.

I found this as I was looking for my resume on my USB drive. I had forgotten about it. It documents the events of February 1, 2009. Enjoy.


Feb 2, 2009
GUNFIGHT AT VALLEY ACRES
Last night was a bit scary. I awoke at approx 3:30 AM, from some interesting but forgotten dreams to the sound and feel of a gun being shot in the room underneath me. I was confused at first and adrenaline rushed through me. My hands went to my body, frantically searching for a wound, nothing. I had the urge to run to the window, where I heard someone scrambling out of the window directly below mine. Within seconds, I deemed that going to the window might be a foolish gesture. I am amazed now at my thoughts in the early AM. I realized that whoever flew from the window could have either been the shooter or worse, the shot. My mind raced with thoughts of murderers below me cursing their luck that I was right on top of them. I imagined them realizing their mistake and soon rushing to my door and dealing with me. I was frozen for I do not know how long now. I feared any movement would betray me to the thugs below. As I sat there on my couch, an image from the Guy Ritchie movie, “Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels” kept entering my mind. The scenes in which the “heroes” listen in quietly to the gangsters next door deal out drugs and plan evil schemes. My mind also went to my newly met neighbor, Chuck. I wondered if he was home or not. What were all the other tenants thinking about this time I wonder? Maybe we would all get the same thought and race out into the halls together and defeat the usurpers of our peaceful slumbers! I don’t think Chuck would be up for that. All this was thought of in such a short time. I was trying now to decide now to call the Police or not. Waves of doubt showered me of maybe jumping the gun and calling wolf. I didn’t want to bring cops here for something in the kitchen exploding. My mind started to forget what I heard. I wasn’t sure anymore if what I heard was a gunshot and weather anything had crawled out of the window below. Yet I knew what time it was and how loud and obnoxious these people were below usually. I had smelled the fragrance of illegal substances and partying creeping up from the apartment before. My mind was telling me “drug deal gone badly.” My fear of the shooter staying in the apartment began to grow. Why if someone was shot here, was the ambulance not arriving? Yet I did not move. Was I to be the victim of fear and imagination? I waited. I crept silently finally to the bathroom to relive myself. Since as I was sitting there, I realized how badly I needed to go. I dared not to flush since that might awaken my foes senses below. I returned to my silent vigil of sound. Eventually, mind you I don’t know exactly when, I laid down and waited. I believe I drifted off and awoke to different lights dancing on my walls. I spend the first couple of nights in a new place studying the surroundings. I had memorized how the lights lay against the walls in my kitchen/living room, and the beams where different now. I sat up, drawing in a slow and hissing breath. I inched towards the window. Silently I breached the blades of the blind. My shoulders relaxed and my stomach released its inner and unknown tension. There in the road and in the driveway of the apartment complex sat two police cruisers. Now I hold no love or hate in my heart for police one way or another. I feel that most citizens view the police force as comforting and wrathful as the servants of the Greek and Roman gods. For the most part we avoid them and their coming brings pangs of anxiousness and fear to our guts. Yet when we are in dire need and want, we relish their coming and rejoice for them as if we had been found by our long lost fathers. Right or wrong, this is what I feel most people, including myself, feel about our police force, and maybe we are right sometimes and I am sure we are wrong mostly. The feeling of rescue was my thought as I gazed out my window.
For the next hour I watched the police out my windows search the area for some clues or evidence. I took this time to text a few of my male friends who would care but not freak out and told them in short the situation. Only Flinkman replied. So thanks Jake, for either being up or waking up. I heard voices in the hallway outside and went to my door. Cigarette smoke was making its way into my place. I looked out my peep hole and could see that there was a couple of people, a guy and girl for sure by their voices, out there smoking like chimneys and talking with a cop. I started picking up what was said. Apparently someone came over that night to the party pad who the tenants did not know very well. Then I think a fight broke out and the stranger pulled a gun a discharged it and fled out the window, very slowly by the sound of it. Criminals in Des Moines are not as smooth as Chicago ones. Anyways, the cops stayed watch and I decided it was time for bed for this sacredly cat. It was 5 am now. My body had woken up quite a bit by now but was finally calming down. So I poured a stiff one, put a golf club close where I could reach it and went into some more interesting but forgetful dreams until 10 am.

"Who is Pokey Reese?"

I love summer. Here are some reason's why.

Reading books. There is nothing like waking up early or staying up late to read a delicious book whilst drinking a thoughtful and well written cup of coffee. One of the many reasons I will not get a Kindle is that they just do not look as good sitting by a steaming hot cup of coffee as a book does. On this topic and particular summer, I am very much excited by the weekend of July 15. I recommend that you research this date and your summer enjoyment will increase ten-fold.

Sam Adam's Summer Ale with a side of crackling camp fire added to it. Every year since I was 7 years old I have looked forward to the release of this delightfully refreshing brew. I enjoy it most when sitting around a camp fire behind my friends Jake and Molly's house. If they are there then that is a plus as well.

Sunburn. I am of almost entire British Isle descent. This means that in the winter you are able to see platelets and phagocytes running through my veins. I will regret it someday but right now I relish the slight burn of my skin and my freckles bursting forth enough to look like a quasi tan.

Grilling. It's cheap, it's fun, it's manly and it tastes ever so good. There is nothing you cannot grill. I once made an entire wedding cake on a grill, frosting and all. If you do not believe me I can and will not prove it to you. Also tagged with this is eating outside.

Golf. I compare my love of golf to Dostoevsky's short story "A Gentle Creature" The lady trails me along and I think I truly love her but I never get anything out of it except maybe summer likes 2 and 3 from above.

Traveling to Des Moines to beat Jake at tennis, prepare good food and drinks with even better people and to enjoy campfires. *author's note; I believe that I have only enjoyed a campfire twice there but it left a lasting impression on me.

Going to baseball games. I will go to any game in any stadium but I do have favorite stadiums and people to go with. First Wrigley Field bleachers with the right field crew from college. I know for a fact Brandon Phillips and Dámaso Marté will never forget us. Second place is Kauffmen Stadium, home of the most character building team in professional sports. I like to attend this one with Brandon Warren because it is always fun to watch him come crashing down on an unsuspecting woman while he is in pursuit of a projectile hot dog.

Music. A well placed song can put you into a state of blissful summerness. What is great about music in the summer time is that you can add to any of the above mentioned items and it works like magic. I resist giving you a list of what music to listen to as that is rude and presumptuous of me to think I know what would hit your summer bone.