Lost in Thought

Lost in thought is what first came to mind when I saw him sitting there. An old man…lost in thought. Life filled with people carrying on unnoticed past a weathered face with its still bright blue eyes staring off into who knows where…or why. Sitting across from him though, I began to think that maybe…maybe…he knew the where and the why. I began to think that maybe he wasn’t “Lost” at all. Maybe he knew exactly where he was…in thought. Maybe his thoughts were of some special place from long ago or some important person from his past. Maybe in his thoughts, he was standing in some moment in time that somehow marked his soul. A moment that brought laughter…or tears…or changed his life. The birth of a baby…the death of a partner…a road never taken…a dream almost come true. A wish to do something over…a chance to take a shot at a second chance. Maybe in his thoughts he was just spending a little time with a memory or two. OK…maybe I’ve gone a little too far and maybe he was just thinking about what to have for lunch. But just remember this. The next time you see an old man you think might be lost in thought…maybe he’s not “Lost” at all. Maybe he knows exactly where he is.

Watch Where You Step

I watched a baseball game last night on TV. And I guess I’ve just never noticed it before, but I had no idea there were so many ways…to spit. Seriously. And everyone was doing it. The players were spitting…the coaches were spitting…the managers were hawking loogies…the batboys…the ballboys…saliva sailin’ everywhere I looked. There couldn’t have been a dry spot left on the field or in the dugout. No wonder even the coaches wear spikes. It was a sight that…really didn’t need to be seen. I must admit though, there was a certain amount of…well…personal style being displayed. The shortstop’s upper lip curl…the left fielder’s between the teeth squirt…the designated hitter’s machine gun repeater…the dribble… although I think that last one was just a youngster making a rookie mistake. You know, a good, slippery, pro style sidewinder gone wrong. So, there’s another game tonight. Has anybody seen my boots?

Bugs

Bugs...Hmmm...Now that the weather is breaking they’re everywhere aren’t they? Bugs...They come in all shapes and sizes. You’ve got your hard ones and soft ones...big ones and little ones...your crawlie ones, flying ones, hopping ones and some that do all of the aforementioned activities. Some bite, some sting and some just buzz around your ears at night while you slap yourself silly trying to send them to bug heaven. Wouldn’t it be interesting to sit down over a cup of coffee with the Big Guy himself and ask...”So, just what did you have in mind here with the Bug thing?” Maybe He just had a bunch of leftover spare parts and nothing to do one afternoon. Or maybe He just couldn’t pass up a great buy on legs and antennas at heaven’s dollar discount warehouse. Or maybe He looked down and thought...”You people really bug me sometimes...Hmmm...Bug...now there’s an idea”. Or maybe...we’ll just never know the reason for our...Bugs. So, maybe we should just live and let live. On the other hand...s’cuse me while I whack that skeeter.

Michigan weather…Michigan words

Ahhh…Michigan, it’s a land where our weather rules the meaning of our words. Take the words up and down for example. In Michigan, 40 degrees is UP in January…but in July, 60 degrees is DOWN. In Michigan, when someone says it’s a beautiful day, it can mean it’s a day of soft breezes, blue skies and 80 degrees. Or…softly falling snow and 25 degrees. Or…the first spring day you actually open a window. Or…an autumn colored day and sweater weather. In Michigan when someone tosses you an “Is it hot enough for ya?” what they’re really saying is “Are you friggin’ kidding me? You can fry an egg on my old bald head”. And when the Michigan weather folks predict “A little snow”, we bring in the dogs and gas up the snow blower. The meaning of our words changes with the seasons. Michigan weather…Michigan words…we understand.

Shake It Off

Let’s shake off the winter wearies like we would a tattered old coat. Let’s welcome back the sunshine from its long winter’s nap and open the windows to let in the tick, tick, tick of a springtime sprinkler and the sound of a ballgame drifting across the backyards from a radio on someone’s deck. It’s time to lower our shoulders from the tensions of the silver shivers and raise our eyes from the frozen sidewalks to watch a sweet breeze blow clouds around a bright blue sky. Let’s get on with this season of unclenching and leave winter’s baggage behind. Let’s get on with doing a little spring cleaning of the heart and soul so that we’ll have room for some fresh thoughts and new ideas. Let’s shake off the winter wearies like a tattered old coat. The gift of another time around has been given to all of us. All the cold and dark has melted away. All roads are open to us now. This is the season to choose one...and see where it leads.

Hey Spring

Hey Spring...this is what I’m talking about. C’mon...you can do it. Looks like you’re getting your act together and startin’ to kick a little ice around here. Keep it coming. Turn it up to warm and get those daffodil heads poking up through the tundra. And hey there Mr. Red, Red Robin…we are ready for some full time bobbin’ around here. Even though Old Man Winter really showed his age this time around, it’s still been too brown and gray and window closed and all cooped up for too long. We need you to start getting on with the greenery. C’mon Spring...you can do it. Flex your crocuses and give the cold, old geezer a good swift kick in his frozen pants. And tell him not to let the garden gate hit him in the icicles as he heads north. Turn up the thermostat Spring and let the T-shirts begin. It’s tulip time. C’mon...you can do it. Get the sap running and the grass growing. It’s time to smell the lilacs and slap some mosquitoes. C’mon spring you can do it. Get out there...put up your dukes...and give the North Wind the old what for. This is what I’m talking about. Don’t turn back…don’t give up now…don’t turn into some kind of…Pansy.

Sounds Like a Plan

I plan it so carefully. I stand at the window for minutes studying the scene before me. Check the treetops for telltale signs. Is the neighbor’s flag giving any input? What about the clouds…anything there? And then…and only then…when I feel my calculations are correct…I make my move. Appropriate gear on and in place. Garage door open. Choke…check. Prime…as directed. Engine engaged and ready. Directional chute aimed perfectly. One last visual check to confirm calculations. I’ve got everything figured perfectly. So, off my snow blower and I go, plowing into the great, white wonderland that is my driveway this morning. It’s almost immediately that the wind direction I observed, plotted, calculated and studied so intently…changes. I’m instantaneously covered, head to frozen toes, with most of the snow I had so intelligently and carefully planned to end up over there…not over me. It’s Mother Nature’s great practical joke. And it gets me every time.