Life at 3 miles an Hour

I’ve been advised that, until I am writing at least a page a day, I’ll not be considered a writer. I want to be a writer, to some degree anyway. However, for the past year and a half, I have been committed to a few pages a week at most. Much of it has been in the form of this blog. I’ve had all kinds of excuses for not being more prolific in what I have set in my heart to be more involved in. No doubt you use the same excuses in your lives just maybe for different activities. It all really comes down to time, which I believe to be allotted by motivation. I need to be motivated to live my life in some form other than its default setting of busyness. Consider me motivated. The one page a day thing has taunted me for the past few months. Every time I have the urge to consider myself in part a writer, this haunting reminder comes back and whispers, “How about today? What have you written today?” I hate whispering. It’s rude, especially when it’s a disembodied voice whispering in...

I’m feeling a bit like Bilbo Baggins this morning. I’ve just completed a “There and Back Again” kind of experience. I’m home again, by the water, fog rising, espresso hiss in the background, and the distinguished Starbucks aroma filling the air. It’s a long drive from Boise where I’ve spent the past few days on a teaching assignment and watching my daughter tour her Fall choice for academic furtherance. It’s a long drive, there and back again. Although I’m sure I had it better than Bilbo with a Mazda 6 to enhance the journey, it was long and grueling at times just the same. I would imagine that the mountains that we crossed would rival his Misty mountains as well. In case you’ve not experienced it, let me share with you that this country of ours still holds a great deal of desolation. You could still die, frozen and alone in the mountain passes, and rest areas don’t always appear on demand. I did wonder at times why we have spent so much time and money investigating whether or ...

This is week two of car-lessness. While my wife and I were blissfully and mindlessly enjoying the World of the Mouse, my daughter was rear ended in our car by an individual who has remained, nameless due to privacy laws. It took ten days just for him to decide who he was insured by, but that’s a story for another day. As a result I have taken up residence in yet another caffeine establishment. Fortunately for me, here in the promised land, I have no less than eight others within a two block walk. So here I am, another morning, another corner window seat, with another view of life. It’s just as well that I’m walking more as I have not been to the gym in about three weeks now. Walking a thousand miles with the Mouse, I haven’t yet felt compelled to go back yet to the tread mill or stair monster. I’m sure they’re not alarmed though as my payments are still automatically withdrawn. So I‘m improvising. It’s been good for me really. It goes against my nature, to improvise I mean. I...

I’m glad to be home….sort of. It’s not that I’m not happy to be here in the land of good coffee and bad traffic. It’s just that it is a bit difficult to compare this to my last two weeks in the World of the Mouse. And it was a different world. I’m not sure if you’ve ever had this experience, but let me just tell you that you haven’t really experienced the Magic of the Mouse until you’ve gone to his place in central Florida. The, wedged into the middle of, Anaheim version isn’t the same. Disneyland is a great diversion, but I’m telling you Disney World is truly an experience. I would never recommend it though during Summer or Spring breaks. Then it’s merely sweat, exhaustion, frustration, crying (probably yours), and just about everything that is wrong with mankind, along with a very large price tag. Who would pay for that? I’m referring instead to an offseason, beautiful weather, less crowds, shorter lines, experience of the off season. What really interests me is that I ul...