Thursday, March 26, 2015

Getting Old School and Thoughts For My Future

15 years ago would have liked to been where I am sitting right now.  from this vantage, chilling in the sun, enjoying the beverage of my choice.  Instead I was in Vegas.  Beverage of choice in hand, I'm was watching screens when I realized they just blew up the Kingdom.  Years earlier I partied with UCLA after they own that Final Four in that building.

In Vegas, on this day, my beats on tournament games were making money.  Like a baller a give my server a five dollar chip for every free drink.  It felt good in the moment, but then I saw the building come down on a replay.  I should have been there but I had to work.  Who's the baller now I remember thinking as I processed the fact the Kingdom was now gone and like thousands of trees in the woods I wasn't there to hear it make a noise, only memory reminds me it happened.

Back on the hill in the present tense I wonder who is the baller, and what does that mean.  Grown up should I even use that language now.  I need a new job is what I'm thinking now.  Two stadiums now stand where once their was just one.  Fact relives it happened but memory is what makes the moment real.  I can see images in reply but I wasn't there.  I have to admit sometimes I wonder what is real.

What is real in the now, my bracket is busted.  I'm drinking a merlot and not really enjoying it.  Baller his is not me, or perhaps he is.  Tucked in this beautiful moment looking out on the mountains, the sound, Seattle; I'm basking in the sun.  Enjoying this moment on my terms creating a memory.

Who I am, The world I am manifesting? The power of this day for me is wrapped in an image.  I guess I'm left to see if the rest of the universe can see it.  

Wednesday, March 18, 2015

A Pause For Reflection - Raaai Nieerrr BEER

Who have I become?

I'm standing outside a reopened restaurant, waiting for an once mighty sandwich that i fear now is only an over priced shell of it's former glory. My conversation is with a guy from Boston about a football game that also didn't end well upon revisiting it.  I'm actively breaking the law as I stand on the streets of Seattle drinking a beer.

Who have I become?

where are the insightful tales of wine consumption full of my opinions and tasting notes.  a refined pompous alcoholic is how i once summed up my writing style.  sometimes incoherent blabber, often times poorly spelled and questionable grammar but always lucidly edgy, sprinkled with tidbits of information.  Drunk on wine I remained functional.  Now, I hardly write.  It's been since last summer that I penned my last confession.

Tonight as I await my dinner I live in the past, not caring as I drink my beer.

gone is the forward motion of my story.  Gone is the quest to find pleasant new tastes.  GONE is my interest of how things should be, I now talk of how they once were.  How things use to be better.  I settle for the reliable staleness of a Rainier in a tall can.

I look like a hipster city dweller.  I sound like a grumpy old man.  I've lost my taste for taste, instead relying on the feel of seeming ironic.  Grabbing my sandwich and finishing my beer I walk towards home, it is time for a long look in the mirror.