Penned this shorty over fourth-of-July weekend down at the lake.
It, like some of the finer things in life, are simple.
Thanks for reading.
Two Hundred Seventy-Five: watching infants
witness a new thing that makes them smile
Two Hundred Seventy-Four: discovering
elements of nature affected by recent storms
I never enjoy thinking about
possible strife suffered by those who’ve felt the wrath of natural disasters,
but when you stumble -- on a road trip, hike, or otherwise -- upon a bit of a
flood or some overturned trees or a simple, beat-up piece of turf, I think (and
hope) that the human experience has something to do with a reminder of our size
and time in this world. A little bit of that has to do a body good.
Two Hundred Seventy-Three: the drivers at
my job
These guys get a lot of grief, some
of which they might deserve, but they make the whole thing happen. They operate
the machinery. They fight the steps, ramps, rude operators, and the occasional arrogant
staff member. They’re up early, sweating often, and working while most of the
rest of the operation coasts through holidays. Many thanks to those who do
their job with consistency and integrity.
Two Hundred Seventy-Two: married dudes
who are independent and understand
Sometimes I meet couples that do
everything together, seldom venture out alone, and seem to always be home at
the same time.
Even rarer: couples that do all of
these things and work together.
I don’t get the lack of a need for
alone time and independence, and I don’t aim to judge those that don’t need it,
but that’s not how I operate. I understand, then, when other independent
married dudes admit to wedded friction and the challenge of how that’s managed.
I understand (and appreciate) that there are other husbands that need time to
themselves.
Two Hundred Seventy-One: Phil Lesh’s Fare
Thee Well show-closing organ-donor messages
Solid wish for a fan base and an audience. Please
consider if you’re not already registered.
Two Hundred Seventy: our parish
community
St. Peter’s folks -- I love our
connectedness, our intentions, and our results. As Father Steve alluded to in a
late-June Mass: Here’s to “the next 90 years.”
Two Hundred Sixty-Nine: American
educational opportunities
I’ve discussed most (if not all) of
my schools and my gratitude for them. I think our country does a decent job of
making learning a priority for our children. We don’t have to be the best in
the world; that’s not what’s important.
If we continue to provide funding
and resources and passion to prioritizing education, we should continue to head
in the right direction. I’m grateful for the foundation we have.
Two Hundred Sixty-Eight: dogs
The greatest companion on the
planet.
Two Hundred Sixty-Seven: sunglasses
It’s a bright, bright world out
there. Grateful for this invention.
Two Hundred Sixty-Six: access to
swimming pools
I’m a bit of a creep so most lakes
tend to not cut it for me, and I’m a bit paranoid, so no thanks to the ocean.
Not much grander than a youthful summer filled with pool days, and now, being a
father, I enjoy swimming (with my kids) more than I could have imagined.
Two Hundred Sixty-Five: David Grisman
Jerry Garcia had a lot of great
companions, but none created that natural, soothing effect quite like David
Grisman playing alongside the one-time Grateful Dead front man. Heavenly.
Two Hundred Sixty-Four: Red Rocks
Amphitheater
This magical sound garden in
Morrison, Colorado may always hold the favorite-venue spot in my heart. Such
good energy. Such great memories. Such a spectacle.
Two Hundred Sixty-Three: learning to ski
at a young age
I managed to get the hang of this on
the fake Snow Creek slopes and -- having skied a day of my bachelor-party
weekend, I may never go again. Just in case, though: I’m glad I got it
downloaded to the muscle-memory server.
Two Hundred Sixty-Two: percussion
To all the guys and girls who’ve
ever slapped a drum: thank you; your sounds are wonderful.
Two Hundred Sixty-One: boating
Be it the catamaran small-boat
sailing at Camp Bartle, motoring in a pontoon, or ripping the water apart in a
Scarab, I give thanks for the opportunities I’ve had to move on the open water.
Exhilarating.
Two Hundred Sixty: Jet Skis and
Waverunners
For me this tops even boating.
Nothing gets the adrenaline rolling like speeding atop tiny wave ripples or
getting airborne via the big ones. Hell, even getting it wide open on a smooth
stretch will get you high. I’ve never owned lakefront property or a boat or any
of these types of toys, but I have friends that have. For those people and the
experiences with them, I give thanks.
Two Hundred Fifty-Nine: my father’s
wedding band
Although large the sacrifice, I have
great gratitude to hold the honor of wearing my dad’s ring.
I give thanks to my
stepmom for gifting me with it, and to the heavens that the reminder of him
adorns my left ring finger.
Two Hundred Fifty-Eight: the jambase.com
comments section after Fare Thee Well night one at Soldier Field in Chicago
Dig the non-fans of Phish giving
Trey props. Beautiful stuff.
Two Hundred Fifty-Seven: control ‘F’
This tool helps me no fewer than
three times a day. Nothing like a search prompt.
Two Hundred Fifty-Six: Grateful Dead Without a Net
It took me a while to get the Dead.
This album put the light on in my attic. Thankful I bought it all those years
ago.
Two Hundred Fifty-Five: Grateful Dead
Oh, man. That self-titled 1971
release set me free. Their sixth studio record came on the heels of American Beauty and Workingman’s Dead (and Aoxomoxoa,
Anthem of the Sun, and The Grateful Dead) -- tremendous works
in and of themselves -- nailed down for me what this band meant. The bluegrass,
the jams, the love stories, the covers. One of my favorite Dead albums.
Two Hundred Fifty-Four: the mandolin
Such sweet, sweet sounds. Cheers to
you who have mastered it.
Two Hundred Fifty-Three: my poetry
journals
I’ve got about five of these things.
They’ve hibernated in my basements
for 15 years and they may do so for another 15. If I get the hankering one day,
though, I might dig ‘em out and retool their innards. Glad I put pen to paper
back when I did.
Two Hundred Fifty-Two: jet pack
No, not the thing you strap on your
back and fly around with, but the thing you power up that gives you Internet
connectivity almost anywhere.
Righteous.
Two Hundred Fifty-One: ice
Ingenious invention. In. Genious.
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