Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Feed the Beast

he's a hungry little bugger. promise a kid a couple skittles and it's amazing the tasks he'll perform, at least this kid. We are skiing, and as an instructor I've always hated handing out gummy bears during my lessons. when kids would ask me for some my reply would always be "sure, if we can find out which one of you is holding." That usually shuts the little beggar up right away. no kids wants to have their private stash revealed to the others.

meanwhile, this little one in front of me appears to be a different beast altogether. Younger and younger parents are pushing their kids into ski lessons. most kids under five lack much of the muscle development needed to ski, sure their are always exceptions but even those kids often lack the attention span to keep their little body warm on a cold day. That said, our mountain allows four year old into the program. I've heard of other places that will go as low as three. Of course, with a signed injury waiver and for a price, I got roped into teaching an Almost three year old. I will say, what he lacked in muscle he made up for in balance. But he was a hungry little bugger.

meltdown after meltdown lead to the realization that all this kids really needs is more fuel. the parent wants to see them ski and I can put up with sliding this kid all day as long the kid can hold it together. looking in my pockets for an answer, remnants of the last hawks game provided my solution. Thank you skittles. sugar goes a long way when attempting to sooth a savage beast, so I feed it.

For a brief moment I felt guilty about pumping this guys kid full of sugar just so he could make it through the two hour lesson. However, when the dad handed me the tip, guilty washed away as my intention turned to the wine I'd soon be purchasing. Feed this beast a little wine and it's amazing what he'll get into.

Tuesday, December 06, 2011

99 Percent Magic and a Bottle of Wine

"wake up to this all and announce, where are the writers of this generation?"

this is my post on facebook tonight. I cast a spell to wake people in the morning. at least that is my hope. or perhaps we really are alone, a nation without voice. these are tough times so, I know there are stories out there. Tough stories, tragedies, lots of dramas. I know this because I'm feeling them, My friends are all living them. It's hard, I know. But there is hope in some in these stories, a little love too. Those are the tales that need to be told.

99 percent of the nation I'm told. all but one percent of us have something that needs to be heard, so tell it. Scream it if you have to, just don't cause a riot, and please clean-up any mess you make. Heck just be respectful, if not to yourself to the process. For centuries people have managed to share the stories of their time. stuff about what happened, how they got thru, the hopes and dreams that kept them going. So I cast my spell because I hope to hear them.

wake-up writers and show yourselves. 99 percent of us are in need of inspiration because we are getting screwed, or am I just drunk.

Thursday, December 01, 2011

Create Your Own Joy

I'm a bottle of wine deep, ready to open another.  I'm by myself.  I'm alone with my thoughts.  Pen in hand, my thoughts flow from hand to paper while my intention is filled with friends, family and people all sharing my joy.  I am seeing the future I plan to experience, something I will write into existence...

a caravan of vehicle snakes up snow covered mountain road.  it's a clear night, we drive until a gleaming crescent moon. inside the various cars are friends and acquaintances in varying states of consciousness.  although we all are in different points in our lives, we share a common tread.  we are chasing the joy of snow.

life is not perfect, their is lingering discomfort between some of us.  Others of the group came to leave discomfort behind.  I am here chasing my discomfort.  I am here finding who I am, a writer.  I'm starting to accept that fact.  It is who I've always been but up til now I didn't want to believe my own story.

The cars slow as my anxiety grows.  we've arrived at our next ski destination.  We have time enough for a few winks of sleep.  however, before the sunrises we want to already be making our way to the lift line, first chair is a mindset embraced at any new location, even during questionable snow conditions.  I look forward to the ride.  after it will be time to share my book.  I am a writer now, it is what I do.  By understanding it, by embracing it, by becoming it, what I do allows me the freedom to experience what I love.

Back now from my vision, I sip the last of the juice in my glass.  the rich tannins linger on the tongue while notes of cherry and darkberry shape turns down the back of my throat.  I think about an epic powder run, the hopeful promise of any ski vacation.  (that is up to mother nature to decide.)  Those that choose to join me on this journey will experience it as a ski vacation.  I will know that is all it is.  but to justify our ambitions, to give permission to ourselves to take on this joy filled journey, we'll call it a book tour.

back to work, I write it into existence.