Small Town Subway

There is some comfort to be had
in the uniformity of products
offered by the ubiquitous Franchise
especially in areas where population
doesn't warrant broad variety
but even more heartening
is the somewhat disheveled young employees
who continually pace behind the counter
perpetually nonplussed
proficient but never impassioned
resonant not only with their time and town
but with them all, pubescence preserved
in its static angst-riddled glory,
fast-food worker as the avatar of Youth.

Black Box

I keep my memory in a box
folded, filed, put away
lest the past come back to stay.

On a shelf and out of sight
preserved for future appetite
if such exists, in the coming night.

History may overpower, overstay
although it has much to convey
no fealty is owed to ticking clocks.

Ever-Shifting Success

At 13 my highest achievement
was scoring a goal in soccer

At 15 it was surreptitiously
borrowing my parents car

At 17 landing the lead
in the school play

At 20 the rare occasion
of getting laid

At 24 ascending
the vaulted improv comedy ladder

At 26 avoiding the mounting legal
and personal troubles begat by unchecked addiction

At 30 sobriety

At 34 friends, family,
simple pleasures, and responsibilities fulfilled

Life Is Not Static

My father likes to say, paraphrasing Heraclitus, "there's nothing constant in life save change". And as I get older, as time has passed, I find that more and more true.

Life is mercurial. Family, work, ambition, geography are all in flux. Grandparents age, parents become grandparents, children become adults become parents, babies are born, families divide and segment as they expand and become familes of their own. Careers shrink and grow and morph. Hirings and firings and layoffs and promotions. Raises and title changes. Professions vary- finance to consulting to management to law to medicine to sculpting to street sweeping to ticket tacking- on and on. The push and pull of economics and interpersonal connection precipitate moves from apartment to condo, condo to house, or back again, may precipitate moves rural to urban to suburban or back again. Alternating region, climate, population. Life in constant swirling motion, at whatever speed, sonic or glacial.

This is fact, indisputable. And for people like me, people reluctant to change, it can be unpleasant. Even feel, at times, like a betrayal. But that is the way things are. Humanity a wonderful chaotic pulsing web of expanding and contracting, criss-crossing, connecting and isolating paths which parallel then diverge, twine then deviate. This is the nature of life over time. Things change. On a long enough timeline, everything changes.

And that is just. That is correct. That is natural. Acceptance of this fundamental truth can bring balance and contentment in the face of those sudden(or gradual) digressions from the norm that may so perturb us. The future is uncertain, certainty an illusion we construct for comfort. But the opposite of stability is adventure. The unknown a font of opportunity.

As we age we most evolve, grow, learn, adapt. For nothing is still, nothing silent, nothing static.

Phantom Call

Back in high school, a time before cell phones and constant communication, I was in a play at the local theater called Scapino. Unlike a school production this was a professional theater with two stages and our run was six weeks not one weekend. Pretty cool. Because we had so many shows over an extended period(and the fact I had a supporting part) there was a lot of down time. During that production I taught myself to juggle(with left over limes from our opening night party), read, explored, and made prank phone calls.

Now my calls weren't malicious I just called random numbers and tried to engage people in conversation. Ask them how they were, what they were up to, if they had seen O' Brother Where Art Thou?. During my random dialing I found a woman's work voice mail, because our shows were always outside normal work hours I was confident she would never answer so I started leaving her messages. From what I remember they were relatively innocuous. I'd wish her well maybe tell her some interesting thing I'd seen or read, maybe share some piece of personal information like I thought this or that park was really great for hiking. I left probably half a dozen messages or so over the course of a couple weeks and they got increasingly more introspective. I'd ask her if she was happy, try to figure out if I was, that sort of thing. 

One of our last shows I called the number and someone answered. It wasn't the woman it was one of her co-workers that had to come in on the weekend to pick something up. The first thing she asked me was "Are you him?" worried I might be in trouble I reluctantly said I was. She told me the woman would be crushed that she had missed me, that the whole office was intrigued by the mystery, and that the woman herself seemed to be touched by my messages. I said I was sorry to missed her and quickly said goodbye. The show closed and the next time I was out and by a payphone I found I had forgotten the number.

It was a nice cool thing. Kind of reaching out and connecting sight unseen. With the pervasiveness of cell phones, the extinction of the pay phone, and the slow decline of privacy and anonymity(and by extension mystery) this situation would be impossible in this day and age. The challenge then is to find ways to connect, find ways to be kind, despite the impersonal and acidic illusion of connection that social medial and the internet provide. Not to say the past was better or easy but there are different issues that the technological necessity has uncovered, some of which we have yet to address.

Young Love

People talk
as if it was
unparalleled
mystic,
mythic,
fertile,
fabled,
enshrined
in song
and celluloid
but
what I remember
is awkward
evenings-
strained silences
between
amorous fumbelings
too young
to effectively
communicate
sharing the bulk
of our buregoning
emotions
over AOL
Instant Messenger.

StoryLand

Walking into StoryLand I can't help but think
of the apocalypse,
some future near or distant
when we have destroyed ourselves
be the cause nuclear or climate.

Ragged survivors stumbling upon the jagged ruins of this
day-glow fiberglass memorial
to forgotten Fairy Tales,
they'll shelter here and perhaps a cult will form
In worship of the Whale and the Wooden Boy-

A false society built on walking pigs
wolves in night dresses
and an overlarge blond girl
in a tiny house,
scavengers capering in the graveyard of 20th century children stories.

Lizard Wisdom

Perhaps we have more to learn
From the dinosaurs
They who admitted complete defeat
Eons ago
Yet are still remembered

Foreboding

There's no feeling
like that of waiting
for the other shoe
to drop

that sense of helplessness-
the unexpected knock
the guilt,
perhaps unwarranted,
when someone asks to talk
impending doom
the countdown clock

a meeting with an agenda
unsaid, unset, unsought

it could be something pleasant
or something small-
something inconsequential

but then again
it could be a death
a firing
an eviction

it is this protracted possibility
that makes it so unpleasant

what a gift imagination is
but also
what an albatross

A/C

I bought the unit 5 years ago
at the time it was my second
most expensive purchase
(after a pair of black cowboy boots
7 years before that)
it felt terribly adult
and responsible
not to mention necessary
as it was a typical Chicago summer
(sweltering)
at the time I could barely function
as I was close to bottom
so the acquisition
was quite an accomplishment
given my condition.

I think of it
every year
as I put it
in the window
and enjoy
the pumping cool relief
of my long ago errand.

Strange, the fondness for things.

Movie Purgatory

The past couple days Nicole and I have watched some movies from the early 90's- Powder, Soapdish, and Howard's End. They were bad, surprisingly good, and shockingly bland respectively. The last got 9 Oscar nominations yet couldn't be more forgotten, or forgettable. I asked around about these three movies and most people hadn't heard of them or only heard of them but not seen them with a few exceptions.

There are some movies that stand the test of time. Movies that are remembered and re-watched, that find their way into the cultural lexicon. But many others fade away due to their own mediocrity and simple time's passing. For a while the video store was the place where these forgotten films would be, if not remembered at least preserved. And browsing the shelves and watching a swath of moderate to bad movies you might find something cool. I still remember fondly Legend of the White Horse, a 1987 movie with Christopher Llyod, and Josh Kirby...Time Warrior! both of which I don't think anyone I've ever met has seen. With the advent of streaming and the extensive accessibility of mainstream entertainment the video store has gone the way of the buffalo. And so to the ability, and pleasure, of finding relatively unknown films.

But time has passed, streaming services are now the watchword and with their popularity they have all focused, almost primarily, on original content. With the majority of their money being spent on their own shows and films streaming services don't have the money to continually buy rights for all new releases. In order to keep their catalogs full they've begun digging deeper for content, acquiring rights for little known, little seen, or forgotten films. Which brings us to Powder, Soapdish, and Howard's End.

Of the three only Soapdish I would actually recommend but its nice to have the access, to have the ability to go back and watch these 20+ year old films that can, if not necessarily entertain, evoke a time period, a style, and a culture temperature. Films are not only entertainment they are time capsules and, good or bad, can teach us, can have value. With the bankruptcy of Blockbuster and the extinction of the video store as we know it something was lost, not the access to the new releases but access to the breadth of film history, we still have Taxi Driver and Titanic but hundreds of thousands of movies fade into obscurity. With Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon all pushing hard into original programming we are getting that breadth of access back. And that's a good thing.

I Miss The School Bus

Yes,
it was a pain to get up before the sun
and trudge out to the street corner
where me and my fellow lethargic students
gathered to begin our cross-town school-trek,

But that mobile corridor
with the uniform brown upholstered seats
was always warm and mostly safe
save for those times when some delinquent
would light fires in the way way back
or provoke the mostly docile bus driver.

We trundled along,
lulled by rhythmic blasts of hot air in winter
sparing breezes from cracked windows in summer
and the constant jostling from the overused shocks,
content and mostly quiet with our whispered preteen scheming.

It was a floating island in-between
a safe harbor, home base, a steady place
where all was changeless waiting
accompanied by Top 40 hits
like some prepubescent Brigadoon.

Adulthood can be weighty
and looking back
youth, although torrid
was mostly simple.

Fishbowl Two Year Anniversary

The team I perform with at the Annoyance, Sight Unseen, has been hosting the student jam show The Fishbowl for two years this week. The team formed about six months before we started The Fishbowl and its been a great experience. At first we didn't have a form persay, and like any new team the first couple shows were relatively scattershot, but over time we developed a style which uses loose narratives to showcase strong emotion and flawed(sometimes pathetic, sometimes apoplectic) characters.

In some ways two years does and doesn't feel like a long time. The show serves, not only as straight up fun, but as a marker of time. An engaging constant. All of us were talented and experienced before we started the team but it has allowed us to grow in a more experimental and perhaps sophisticated ways. One of the reasons is that we have had total control over the show. Jimmy or Mary Beth typically hosts, I do the lights, we book the vets that play with the students, its our space for that chunk of time. And with that ownership comes substantial comfort and freedom. The audiences aren't always full but we've only cancelled two shows over the course of two years which isn't too bad. It's our thing and although not a smash hit it is a success.

With how fast the world can move and with how busy people can be its nice to have the show to help stay connected. I know, for the most part, I'm going to see the team at least once a week. And that constant, that routine allows for a friendship and ease that make the time we have together valuable and the improv we do engaging.

The Ticking Clock

In high school
time seemed interminable
each May an eon
each summer an eternity.

In college
much the same
with perhaps
more contention and melancholy.

But age
is a tricky thing
and at some point
the years start to pass with increasing rapidity

My father
ever the analytic
says perception is proportionate,
a year to a child is a substantial slice, to an adult a paltry fraction

For me
it seems life has gained momentum
inertia after shedding the unease of youth
now time holds mostly relish- and savor is always brief

A Child's Cruelty

Once like
little beasts
we children
bared our teeth
and bit
to bleed
knowing not
nor caring
whose pain
it guaranteed,
deeds
were done
without
regard
to blame
or shame
or need,
for youth
grasps no
consequence
nor the sting
of empathy,
only time
can reach
and teach
those
necessities.

I Saw You Leo

It's been ten years
since our Potbelly lunch
and eleven
since we shared a summer
as camp counselors
in northern Wisconsin
easily the worst of my life
but when I saw you
at the Second City
your name came back
with surprising alacrity
and I hope you understood
with my smile and
brief touch of your shoulder
that I saw you
and maintain some affection
for our brief connection
but I had no desire
to stop and reminisce
about those awful months
spent on that ugly lake front
surrounded by rich boys
and their perverse petulance.

Or perhaps
I did not want to be reminded of who I was then-
Sick, alone, and twenty-one.

Adulthood

No one tells you what it is
or how to do it
after an amount
of nebulous time
it is just expected
No one tells you
how to improve your credit score
budget
achieve financial stability
No one tells you
how to build a career
grieve
start a family
or even
deal with small scale
adversity
it is expected
as Adults
we simply know.

Responsibility
can be a burden
especially when
it is unclear
But maturity
offers avenues
of satisfaction
unknown
to the wide-eyed teen:
Friendship
deep and lasting
Love
based in equality
Achievement
out of struggle
Purpose
born of burdens
willingly shouldered
and Joy
in possibility.

Lake Geneva

Nicole and I are up in Lake Geneva this weekend for Jose and Meigan's wedding. A beautiful town with lots of impressive vacation homes.

There is an odd, mildly off putting, sense of wealth and entitlement about the community. Big luxury boats and even bigger houses. But easily overlooked given the gorgeous weather and serene landscape.

I was here once as a kid. Went up with a friend to visit his family friend. It was winter. The town covered in snow, the lake frozen solid. Surreal to come back two decades later, the memory of my first visit foggy and obscure.

A Strong Current

Since I got sober it seems like time has started moving faster. There was a time when my life seemed to be standing still, I was constantly bored, frequently afraid, and often under a self-imposed isolation. Days would last eternities. Sometimes I wouldn't know when I was. Morning or night, weekend or weekday. Minutes would crawl. That's no longer the case.

As I continue to learn how to be responsible, set and attempt to achieve goals, listen and support others, show up, make time to do the things I need and want to do, I've found life moves a lot faster when you're actually living it. Now weeks, months seem to be flying by. Last year seems like yesterday. There's so much to do, a lot gets done, but there's always more. Time rolls on. Things change and evolve. Summer gives way to Fall which creeps into Winter. And always forward, always progress, the hands of the clock speed on, the calendar flips, and the future once so stagnant now buoyant and beguiling.

Reflections

We're back in Chicago and have had some time to decompress. The trip was a real success. We visited some family, saw a lot of interesting and weird roadside attractions, emersed ourselves in nature, and rode a sometimes majestic sometimes demanding 1,500 miles on the motorcycle. 

The main challenge that Nicole and I faced on the trip was the physically demanding nature of some of the stuff we were doing. Riding for long stretches of time, wind, cold, and varied hiking terrain. This, of course, effected our moods from time to time. What we did to head off any issues was just checking in with each other frequently. Stopping when we needed a snack or a hot drink, relaxing or napping if we needed it, staying connected and on the same page. We did some real relationship work and made some substantial progress. There were moments that really tested us and I think we came out of the whole experience a lot stronger as a couple, as partners. The two keys were communication and patience.

On the motorcycle the world is different. Time has less meaning. Your perception is heightened and you see a lot more. There are no distractions. You are simply there in that moment, wherever you happen to be. The weather and temperature are of utmost importance. You are in touch with your body and the landscape in a much more direct and meaningful way. The experience is unique and inspiring. But can be draining.

Coming back we weren't exactly relaxed or well rested. It took us a couple days to bounce back and now after some reflection I think both of us can say the trip was amazing. Something we won't ever forget, but something we might plan out more rigorously next time.