Monday, June 18, 2007

i've started working on the autobiography again, after a hiatus of about half a year. crime stories were getting old to me- i haven't been able to think of crimes, and even got tired of thinking, murder, death, identity fraud, etc. my own life, while not as violent and grisly, is at least interesting to dredge up, and since i have often been told it would be good to document my travels, i'm more or less doing both. keeping the record of it here. enjoying rearranging it, playing with it, etc.- as if, someday, it will be chapters of a book.

my son, back in town, is working for the campus newspaper and writing reviews such as this one, which makes me very proud. as one who enjoys media as a hobby, having passed through journalism as a major myself at one time, i say, participate. an active writer is already better than about half the population, though quite a few of us are typing away in chat pidgins as we speak.

had a great father's day- got african music from my daughter, got some fathering in, got a nap on the couch. father's day is an extended holiday here, as i'll get another one in about a month, in return for actually losing this one, in part, to putting a younger lad in camp. i'll stretch it out all summer if they let me. what i need, is a level. that, and maybe to go to a baseball game, miners will do. the african music is doing it for me now, though. i love it, and, it's reawakened in me a desire, a need to get out there, to connect. i have some old friends in africa, if only i could find them; i have some local friends, off for africa this week. i resolve to try to find the old college buddies; i resolve to remember.

slogging through dozens of bad papers, i found one sentence that reached me. here it is in its entirety.

all people want to become traveler at people got the sadness, people were cornered from some difficult problems, and people looked up at the sky.

this one will never make it to the weblogs, being on a citation exercise that was about big cities on the other side of the world. its grammar is now fixed, but i thank its author, sincerely and honestly, for touching me. actually i don't have the sadness, don't even have problems, really, not that i could really complain about, compared to those i've had before, or those of others i know. but i do look up at the sky. and not just because i've watched 'lion king' seven times in the last two weeks.

finally, a lightning storm, a soft rain comes in, and i think of a travelling companion, the golden. maybe the thunder will always bring that, though the clumps of hair will probably go away eventually. she's off in a place where, maybe, the geese will always jump when she dives into the water after them; the heron will glide away effortlessly, remind her that she's jumping just on principle, she doesn't have a chance, she'll never actually taste them. they, after all, can fly, and can fly at will. she, however, is no longer trapped inside her body- and, though the price of that may be giving up the earthly joys, the rolling in the grass, the smells of the wild, the taste of a caught something-or-other- i'm sure one reaches a point where it's worth it. a fair trade. and it's off to the next open field...

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