the end of playing

ive always enjoyed playing. as a kid i was rather creative and often came up with the wildest scenarios to play. i shimmied across a fence to escape a foreign prison. i was a wild west outlaw on my horse, keeping tally of the vast number of people i killed. i played with clay, i played with myself. tehe. i played i was a soldier, i played i was a playboy. probably the worst thing about being a grown up is the end of all this playing. some say it doesnt have to end and it probably doesnt when it comes right down to it. but as an adult youll always have that nagging voice in your head saying, "yeah, this is stupid and you know it."

When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me.

ear hair and the latent fear of death

for the last 4 or 5 years ive noticed hair growing in my ears. hahahahaha. stop! dont get me wrong! i dont let it grow there! no, no, no, i havent been cultivating ear hair for 4 to 5 years. in fact, the moment i see any hair in my ears i immediately pluck them out with tweezers! on occasion i'll have a wild hair with the audacity to try and grow on my tragus (see ear diagram for you laymen). it too is plucked in its youth so as to make an example to any other hairs who might get ideas.

i pluck them immediately because i despise seeing hair in my ears. i loathe and detest it. not only seeing it on myself but on others as well. i dont like seeing anyone with ear hair. it is the epitome of gross, unkemptness that goes along with the worst side of old age. it says, "im old , im dying and frankly i dont give a shit anymore." thats the crux of it really. it speaks to death. afterall, babies dont have ear hair like that. only the old or older do.

ive read the stoic's and samurai's take on facing death. however, despite my pondering the nobility of facing death, here is a place where death bothers.

finding homes for junk

my wife hates to throw things away. she feels that every little thing, however old or junky, has a home out there in this great big ole world and you just have to find it. thats the problem, finding it.

i know her perspective is probably better for the planet. if you find a home for junk that means less junk in the land-fill, but its not easy. anyone out there need a 2007 calendar or a broken flashlight? sometimes i feel like our home is a waystation for junk in transition.

wife: "oh we cant throw that away, daphne could use that when she finally gets a place of her own".

me: "yeah right. like thats going to happen".

ive learned to throw things away in secret. sometimes in the garbage, sometimes to a thrift store. i enjoy lightening the load. and i think i enjoy the secretive nature of it as well. i hate when the clutter accumulates and i cant find an empty surface in the house. thats when my dormant OCD symptoms kick in. my mind starts planning for how to secretly dispose of the waste.

running, motivation and creating an ambiance.

ran 5 miles today. take that prometheus33. it was brutal. i like to listen to inspiring music to help the motivating man that lives in my heart, or soul, or brain. wherever he lives. you know the one that digs coal as a metaphor for motivation. well hes been up to his waist in coal as of late so he hasnt had much umpph. when i listen to music it filters into his dungeon and provides ambiance for him to work in. however, ive recently realized i must let him work at the same pace and not work faster just because hole's violet is blaring in on the coal mines speaker. i tell him just keep the pace, dont go faster. hes getting old and making him go faster just wears him out. bless his heart, the little fella that lives in the motivational corner of my heart.

plane neighbors

on the ride to seattle, i sat next to an odd fellow. he stacked pillows on the seat then proceeded to stand in the aisle. people scooted around him and the stewardesses told him it was time to sit on 3 occasions. he sat but then as soon as he was legally able...he stood again. i expected a nice flight. i had an exit seat, which means more leg room. but this buffooon kept standing right in front of me, so im having to look slightly to the left or right to avoid staring at his crotch or ass. i hated this man. i hated him for f-ing up my flight. he then sat down and kept fidgeting with his back or pockets. i wasnt sure if he was scratching himself or what.

finally i said, "hey man are you alright? you seem like somethings wrong." he says, "its my syatic nerve in my back it makes sitting really uncomfortable." he continued, "in fact at some point during the flight im probably going to have to lay on the floor with my feet in the chair to get relief."

and about an hour into the 5 hour flight, he did just that. people would walk down the aisle and see him and then do a double take. people looked past me at him and looked shocked. 1 guy goes, "well thats unusual". most made a "what a weirdo" grimace. and here i am sitting next to him. some probably thought we were gay lovers.

after being in his floored position for an hour he taps my leg and motions with his head that i need to move so he can get up. i do and he returns to his seat. he then fiddles with the bottle of some pills and goes "oh no!".

then he says, "please, very, very gingerly move your right foot a smidge to the right...i dropped a pill that is very important to me and you almost stepped on it". i move my foot and sure enough theres a lil pink pill under it. i reach over pick it up and hand it to him.

the guy was weird to say the least. the lady who sat on the other side of him would shoot me a look from time to time that said she was thinking the same thing i was thinking. namely, "what the frig is wrong with this guy". on a couple of occasions we almost broke into laughter when he would go to the restroom.

when he came back i asked him what he did for a living. "im a high school teacher. i teach world religions." this opened up talk about religion and he tells me that he is a messianic jew. raised as a jew and converted to Christianity. he stated that there is a big movement to convert to Christianity in Israel. he told me about how his faith made sense to him and how he believed in a jewish jesus. he talked about the nuances of religion and how he understood the differences of the different religions.

the man transformed before my eyes from a buffoon, to an eccentric, to an ailing soul, to an intellectual, to a man of faith. dont judge a book by its cover or a man by his odd behavior.