Read Scott Thompson's Short Story Memories from the Future.

            Most of my blogs are planned out ahead of time with a framework in my head before typing. Occasionally, I am struck by something which moves me to react instantly. Welcome to today’s blog. This one is by the seat of my pants without any thought out construction so bear with me.

          

  This is my friend and YHC fraternity brother, Scott Thompson. To be upfront, I do not know Scott as well as I would like to. He was a few years behind me and the bedrock of our friendship is based on way too much drinking out in the North Georgia Mountains along w/ the occasional toga party. (Hey, we were in a frat, what do you expect?)

            Scott was always a classy guy and one I thought of nicely but other than drinking beer and talking about Upsilon Sigma Delta, we didn’t have all that much to say. Through the magic of Facebook, I go to know Scott a little bit better and found that my first impressions were dead on. Scott is a classy guy, a great Dad, good husband, quite witty, and one heck of a writer. Don’t ask me. Check out his Amazon page.

            Scott wrote his first book last year. I wish I could say it is the best thing I’ve ever read but truthfully, I haven’t read it yet. It’s on the pile to get to but I have been playing catch up with reading for fun since that was put on hold for my masters. By the time I graduated in 2009, a huge pile had grown which I’ve been slowly whittling down ever since. Take into account, I dropped everything when I discovered George R. R. Martin’s Game of Thrones and you can see why Young Men Shall See is on the stack.

            Anyway, yesterday I got a notice via Facebook that a short story was available for the kindle by Scott. I jumped on it immediately. I didn’t get a chance to read Memories from the Future until I stopped to get a bite to eat today while shopping.

            What did I think?

           

At least it was not as bad as this guy, Sheesh....

Damn you, Scott Thompson. You made me cry in the middle of Panera over my chicken w/ wild rice soup. To add insult to injury, it was those big streaming tears that a guy can’t blame in congestion or dust in the air.

            Scott, your short story was beautiful. I read a lot and I read a bit over everything so it’s not uncommon for me to read some sort of love story. Rarely have I read a love story clearly written from a regular guy’s point of view. Notice I said guy and not man. Plenty of stories are out there written by men though I can’t name one off the bat right now.  Hemingway, Shakespeare, and Conroy have all written good love scenes yet I’ve can’t remember the last time I read something about a guy falling on love with the girl of his dreams that spoke to me in such a modern voice.

            It was supposed to be an enjoyable diversion as I ate my lunch but I became so enthralled with Julian’s point of view of working up the courage to speak to this beautiful woman that lunch was forgotten until I read the last page.

            Few stories have ever gotten me to ignore food so obviously I loved Memories from the Future.  I’m trying to be careful how I phrase everything else so as not to spoil anything.

            I mentioned regular guy’s point of view because Scott nails it so well. As the story unfurls, we read about how our protagonist, Julian, is fighting up the courage to speak to the lady who catches his eye. I think we’ve all been there.

Quite honestly, Memories took me back to a chilly winter day a little over two years ago when I was sifting through the latest profiles on my E-harmony account. I came across this picture and was too afraid to click the message button.

 

“She’s out of my league.” “I don’t do the kids thing.” “She’ll never go for a guy like me.” These were the sentences running through my brain as I stared at my future wife’s profile. Whenever I think about that anxiety, it takes me back to being seven at the Milledgeville Rec. department and standing on the high dive board twelve feet in the air.

Do I jump? Do I walk away?  Love is a lot like that and Scott Thompson nails it in his story. Thanks, Scott. It may have been four pages but it was the best four pages, I’ve read in some time.  

Does Julian talk to the girl? Does it work out? Check it out and see for yourself. It will be the best 99 cents you spend today.

 

A White Porpoise, A Red Tailed Hawk, and Terrible Loss for my Good Friends...

            It’s been a busy few weeks since we last leaned on the fence and chatted about what’s on my mind. I’ve gone begrudgingly back to work after the end of the Summer of Kim. The kids and my amazing wife threw me a fantastic birthday. I’ve learned a bit about the enormous difference between going back to school as an employee and as a parent.

            Something else has happened which has had a larger impact on me that I want to admit. I have spoken of my friend/mentor/adopted big brother, Capt. Tony Daniels before. The Capt, as we like to refer to him and his family has had an enormous impact on my life. I went to Young Harris College with Tony. After he graduated, I met his sister, Dawn and the friendship blossomed. His parents were often around in those days and other periods of my life so I felt like I really know the Daniels pretty well. Matter-fact, when I think of my window at YHC, I realize the Daniels were a major part of it for me.

            It hit me pretty hard when I found out on the Facebook how their mom, Mrs. Daniels, lost her battle to cancer.

            I’ve spent the last week trying to figure out what to say or how to say something to maybe help with what they are going through. I got nothing. Except that I love them and I am here. Then my birthday came and something happened that rocked my world so hard, it has taken me bit to process it so I could write about it.

http://www.times-herald.com/Local/20120824gloria-daniel-MOS

            I realized it was time to finally share the Hawk story.

            A few hours had passed since Mom, Mary, I and our entourage had returned from Hillcrest Cemetery to lay the Big Guy at rest. I had set up shop on the deck staring at the marsh and heavily trying to self-medicate on Camel lights and anything in a bottle.

            Our neighbor, Ron Bebee, (as mentioned in the last blog) dropped by to pay respects and say hello. As is custom with Ron, he walked up nursing his obligatory bottle of Bud Lite in one hand with a spare in his pocket even though we always offer to share our coolers with him.

            Rags, Gid, and a few others sat in silence on the deck as we all tried to find words to get something started but no one really spoke much. Some grief is just too thick.

            Ron finally broke the silence. “Shit, Rob. I don’t know what to say but I am so sorry. Bob was a helluva guy.”

            I nodded, faked a smile, and lit another Camel. I put the pack on old wire spool we always used as a table.

            Ron went on. “Sherry and are sorry were missed the service. We showed up late due to traffic and didn’t want to interrupt. We just stood off to the side and waited. “

            “Thanks, Ron. Means a lot that you guys would even come out. I know ya’ll got work.” I forced myself to keep it together.

            “The funny thing, Rob, is that something wild kinda happened so I am glad I had to sit off to the side.” Ron popped the second Bud Lite. “We were watching the service when I noticed this large bird fly up and land on the power lines over by where your daddy’s plot was.

            I didn’t think much of it at first but after a few minutes I began to pay more attention to that bird and I realized it was a red tail hawk. That bird sat there on that power line and I swear to God, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Bob’s service he watchin’. When the service was over and ya’ll were leaving, the hawk flew away.

            It stuck with me the whole way over here and I remembered how much your dad used to love to watch all the hawks we have out here. He used to talk about those birds all the time when we’d catch up out the yard.”

            It was true, Out on the property, we have a quite the menagerie of different animals that pop up from time to time including to alligators, deer, and a few families of red tail hawks that live somewhere across the creek on Isle of Hope. On many occasions, the Big Guy would come and find us to drag us from whatever Mary, Mom, and I were doing to point out what the Hawks were doing. It was almost a passion of his.

            One time, Dad tore us away from Mary and I’s late brunch to share Momma Hawk teaching her baby how to hunt. All of this was in our front yard. Momma Hawk stood big enough to carry off a hobbit. The damn thing could have easily come up to my waist; it was a powerful image and the moment where I fell in love with them too.     

            By this point, we were all sitting on the edge of our seat. Ron had our full attention. I only looked away so I could better grasp the plastic cup I was drinking bourbon and cokes out of. Ron wrapped up his story,” Guys, it wouldn’t surprise me to find out that bird was your daddy’s spirit watching over all that to say goodbye but you can take this anyway you want.”

            And I have. Mary, Mom and I have noticed that at many junctures in our lives, a hawk shows up at moments when we need it. I have come to take it as the Big Guy saying, “Hey, I may be gone but that doesn’t mean I am not going to stop watching over you guys.”

            It is not an unusual occurrence where one of us will be catching up and the other mentions how they were going to work or doing something then look up to see a hawk watching them. We have gotten to where we refer to as, Hey, I saw Dad today.”

            Week before last I coolest thing to happen to me where I called Mary and shared. It was my birthday and half way through preplanning ant school. I was working on some US History test prep with my buddy, Billy Walker when Dave Westbrook came running in.

            Dave was elated to share, “You guys are not going to believe this. There is a hawk out next to the shrubbery. He just standing there is doesn’t seem to be afraid of people. We had six people standing around it and it had no fear.”

            Billy and I go out to see this and sure enough, out on the walkway was a red tail hawk. He was about a little over two feet tall and just standing there. At first, I thought he was hurt because we got pretty close and nothing occurred, Until I stepped forward by myself.

            I could hear Billy off in the background saying to be careful but something inside of me told me I would be fine so long as I approached carefully.  I was about three feet away when the hawk turned his head and peered at me. Our eyes locked. As weird as this sounds to say, I swear I felt as if that hawk was looking inside of me instead of “at” me.

            I am sure it was only a few seconds but after what felt like an eternity to me, the hawk leapt up and flew to a low hanging branch on the live oak I often admire as I walk to class. We spent the next hour or so watching him bounce around the front of the front of the school. All said, it was a pretty impressive afternoon.  

My good friend, Paul Sidney took this with the school camera




 

These were with my cell phone



            In spite of all this, I consider myself an individual with above average intelligence and very analytical mind when it comes to processing information. I am well aware there are very logical explanations to everyone of these occurrences. I have read up enough on these hawks and have a pretty good base of information on how animals act to make plausible explanations to why these hawks show up

              It doesn’t change the fact of how much comfort I get when one of these beautiful creatures pop into my life and reminds me that I am not alone. As I drive deeper in middle age, I find myself taking life pretty responsibly. If I want to allow myself my one moment of acting like Shirley MacClaine for the sake of comforting a devastating loss then I will. I don’t think anyone can fault for that if they do, fuck ‘em.

            Tony, Dawn, and Mr. Daniels, I am so sorry for your loss and wish I could be there as the hard part begins. Moving on. I wrote this over the past few weeks in hopes of that maybe it would be of some comfort but also to remind you that Gloria is not gone so long as you find ways to remember her. As I type this, I can’t stop thinking of the creativity you guys have and I realize that Gloria is going to be immortalized in many ways. I look forward in hearing about you guys finding your voice on this.

            For some reason, it always go back to Pat Conroy and a crowded parking lot at way too many Buffett shows when I think of you guys. This quote just feels appropriate so please indulge me.

            “The white porpoise comes to me at night, singing in the river of time, with a thousand dolphins in radiant attendance, bringing charismatic greetings from the Prince of Tides.”

 

As I crank up the blender to toast the memory of your Mom, I hope, that in some way, you guys discover your own white porpoise. We found ours and it has made life a little less empty.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lady to go and toast.

Who's Your Daddy?

            The first few years after Dad’s death, I used to get frustrated because I never dreamed about him. Obviously, I missed him and wanted a few more minutes even if it was in the dream realm. The worst part about losing Dad was sometimes something really funny would happen like the time Rags got us booted off the Today Show and I’d reach for my phone while laughing to call. Then it would hit me. Damn.

            I finally did dream about him in a dream that I’d rather not recant but it did change my life. The important part was while we stood in a back room of Sharp Memorial Church back in Young Harris, Dad chuckled at my frustration (like he was prone to do). He didn’t understand why I was so upset. I told him I had been looking for him and he wasn’t around.

            Dad made one his funny sounds and told me,” Son, look around. I am right in front of you just like I have always been.  All you have to do is just pay attention which you never do.” He laughed that big laugh that we all remember, hugged me and said, ” Now if you excuse, kind sir, I have to go find you sister and your mother.” He walked off but not away.

Hell Freezes Over Party also known as  My Grad Nite 1995
123 Cunningham

            Ever since then, I dream about him a lot. So much, in fact, it is normal that we hang out in my dreams and I don’t even remember he is gone until I wake up. My frustrations are gone about this too. I usually wake up and smile. I just hope he visits Mary and Mom too.

            As I began the first few paragraphs a little while ago, Roni came up to me and gave me a big hug. “Good morning, Step-Papa,” she said. “Happy First Father’s Day with your new family.” Awesome-sauce.

My little girl. I get to say that now. Awesome.

            Today is the first time in 13 years I have not dreaded this day. My new family has gone out of their way to make me feel special but they do that every day. I appreciate the fact that I now have a day but to be truthful, every day is Father’s Day for me. From scolding Roni for talking back to her mother to yesterday when I yelled at Jude during the yard sale because he couldn’t stay away from my box of action figures I had collected for Mary’s Geek Nativity Scene several years back. You take the good; you take the bad……

            Today is also Jude’s 8^th birthday so we have taken to calling this day, “Man’s Day.” Later we are grilling burgers by the pool and I plan to smoke a few cigars with a nice glass of Maker’s Mark. The only way life could get any better would be if Jimmy Buffett’s tour bus broke down in front of the house and he offered to play Jude’s Birthday Party because he smelled my amazing Cheeseburgers in Paradise and had to have one. But I digress.

"Sir, you rock."
"No, sir, you rock."

            My wish for you today is that you get to find some way to spend time with your father. Whether y’all have something special planned or you just sit around and laugh about that time when. One thing I have learned now that I am Dad is that I can guarantee he is thinking about you. That is what Dad’s do.

Retracing My Steps......

            As the big day approaches, we’re into single digits now. It brings me back to habit that I have in regards to figuring out just when my moment changed to put me into the spot where I am at right now.  

            I suppose you could start back in February 2011 when I came across this photo on E-harmony. The minute I saw that smile, I was lost. I distinctly remembering left-clicking the mouse only to think to myself,” She’s out of my league but it let’s give it a shot.” By some miracle, Kim responded and here we are. In two days, we about to become husband and wife.

Isn;t she adorable?

            But, in retrospect, it actually goes back farther than this.

            This is my roommate, Dan. He just moved out and even though I am so excited about my new life with Kim and the kids, I am a little sad to see Dan go. He was the best roommate I’ve ever had and I’ve had some great roommates.

Not only is Dan the most charming individual, I have ever met; he is also one of the kindest. In our three years living as roommates, Dan was an amazing friend.   A few months prior to meeting Kim, Dan set me straight.

            I had dated a few times but without much luck so I just gave up. I was pretty much content with just trying to get my life back after being sick for so long. Translation: I stuck around my bedroom in pajamas while watching reruns of Scrubs. Dan came up to me one evening and talked with me about my current state.

            When you are sick for a long time, it’s easy to get content with just laying around the house all the time and not keeping your social life in motion. Dan pointed out just how well I was doing and it was time to get back into the real world. Basically, I was hiding from the real world. I was.

The effects of kidney disease had made me drop about 6o pounds but that was the only positive after-effect. People used to joke how I walked just like the Big Guy with big meandering strides. That had been replaced by a slow, shuffling limp. My energy levels were also pretty low and the combination forced me to be embarrassed in front of the ladies. Between Dan pushing me and a few others making jokes about my constant wearing of sweats plus an addiction to Tosh 2.0, I realized a change was needed.

            My first few years here, I was always on the move. Between Master’s work and ghost touring, downtown was my place. Yet, here I was sitting on my bed and I couldn’t remember a single name of all the people I used to run around with. I also couldn’t remember the last time I went out on a date.

            Meeting people has never been an issue for me but dating had become a more difficult subject to broach. I had run into the 40s Single Wall, I had heard spoken of in hushed whispers. I had several friends that knew many ladies but...say it with me, folks. Everyone was married or in a relationship or gay.

            I had tried some of those free online dating sites. Well, you get what you pay for. No luck there though I did make a really good friend out of it.

            Part of my problem was the romantic in me kept waiting for someone to drop in my lap and it wasn’t happening. Dan had suggested during our talk to try a paid dating site and I was hesitant.

            A few years before I was married to Satan’s step-daughter, I had tried Match.com with some glorious mistakes. After meeting the coked out, bi-sexual, hair metal keyboardist, I was paired with a dwarf. Yes, I said dwarf.

            We met at a coffee shop somewhere in downtown Atlanta. It was the worst date of my life. Oddly, it had nothing to do with size or appearance. She just was a mean, chain-smoking dwarf. At one point, I even tried to talk about our pets because everyone loves chatting about their dogs, right? Nope. My attempts to foster conversation were met with another lit cigarette under some low muttering about her”goddamned dog.” To say that I was not solid on the idea on online dating would be an understatement.

So I began to consider online dating again (but not Match.com under any certain terms). Then I remembered my old buddy from YHC, Stuart Ivie. Stu is a neat guy and great friend. He went to Young Harris right after me and was very involved in Quantrek and the honor society that the Big Guy was advisor to. Stu had also lost his dad early on so he understood what our family was going through and was right there beside us.

Stuart Ivie, the Original Dirty Jobs Guy

Stuart had also seemed to hit that Single’s Wall I speak of shortly after my divorce. I remembered how Stuart had talked about using E-Harmony for an online dating resource. He was very pleased with it and even found his soon-to-be-wife. Tiffany is great and I can see how the two make a great team. As I type this, I am happy to share that not only they are married but they have a lovely son, John.

It’s funny because looking back; I had no plans on trying to settle down. My plan was got out with several people and get used to the idea of dating again. I figured a few years into this I might find a not crazy girl to date monogamously. Funny how life happens. I met a few very nice people but then I saw Kim's picture and I was done for.  Here I am about to head down the aisle, not just as a groom but also a father. Didn’t see it coming but I love every moment of it.

But where Saturday began goes back even farther. Our upcoming wedding goes back farther the Dan pushing me and Stuart meeting Tiffany. I now realize it goes back to my parents.

Halloween 1987: GI Joe take Punk Rock Jan to Lunch at YHC Dining Hall

No matter how great my sister and I remember Bob and Jan together, I realize it was not a perfect relationship yet I learned so much from both of them. They went through a lot and were able to keep it all together. Mom and Dad always displayed genuine love between them. . I know that I would be in another bad relationship or stuck in my previous one had it not been for the Big Guy and Mom to show me how a relationship is not just about love but also friendship.

As Mary and I grew up in that house that is now a parking lot next to the Young Harris Dining hall, we unconsciously watched our parent interact on a daily basis. How my father could turn from serious to silly in under three seconds at the dinner table has popped up more times that it should at a certain Ms. Wade’s House in Richmond Hill. Over breakfast, my parents could sit at the kitchen table to plan out their weekly work and social obligations/responsibilities with the same precision Hannibal stormed the Alps. They were in-synch with each other.

It was late summer of 1989, Mom, Dad, and I went to Sapelo Island to scout it out as a possible Quantrek destination. They were ahead of me as we walked off the ferry. To this day, I clearly visualize watching them stroll hand-in-hand off the dock only to slide up next to each. At that point, Mom and Dad walked arms around each other with their hands in the other’s back pockets. I t may have been the sweetest thing I have ever seen. I remember saying to myself, “I want that.”

And thanks to listening to the people who are in my life, I got it.

Come out to Forsyth Park at 10 am on Saturday to see for yourself. I’ll be the one with big grin next to the really beautiful girl by the fountain.