Donkey Kong Junior

Hi Salem,

I'm writing this from my garage, which we have been calling the 'garcade' because that's where daddy has been building a small arcade. It's where I go to exercise, tinker with old gadgets, hang out with friends and listen to weird music. Really, it's just a place where I go to think, and in between a few moments of me-time I stumble upon these thoughts which I've never had a chance to sort through. This might be a strange letter, but follow me (your dad is a mystical dude).

You're two years-old now and slowly sneaking upon those days when you'll begin remembering your experiences in the world around you more clearly. You are currently on learning overdrive, and your mother and I feel like we are watching real magic when we see you put your thoughts together and make connections. You're talking so much now, and I just want it to be remembered that your longest sentences are usually song lyrics, especially the ones about monster trucks.

You might not be remembering each day in the same way adults do, but you're absorbing everything constantly. It's my job to make sure you are soaking up the best of the world around you while patiently exposing you to the not-so-pretty side of the world, a side we have yet to talk about. God it breaks my heart to ever think of that side of the world getting the best of you. I'm trying really hard not to worry, but this parenting thing is real and there is so much that is possible in one lifetime. I trust the winds and I believe in the good things coming. I also believe that you are the best thing that has ever happened to my world and I know the rest of the Earth will find you to be incredible like I do everyday.

Here's something fun that I like to muse myself with. You're two. When I was exactly your age it was March, 1984. I don't remember that month very clearly, but I do feel the excitement of learning about that time and listening to its music. I'm a little lost for new music these days, but I can tell you that your mother and I tried our best to bring you up with the classics much like we were raised. You and I dance in the kitchen just like I did with my mother, and countless photos have emerged proving that we have been doing this for many generations. 

Your father's family has a lot going on, and I could only imagine what I'll be able to remember to pass on to you. There are so many great stories, but also great memories. They feel like portals, and when I really concentrate I can transport myself back just for a split second to when I was little like you. I hope you're enjoying this ride Salem, I know we are!

-Dad

Side Quests

 Hi Salem,

You're at Grandma and Pop-Pop's right now with Uncle Jimmy. About a month or so ago we 

started putting your car seat facing forward, and that opened up a whole new world for you 

and I. Driving around with you is so much fun, and something happened today that I want to 

remember. 

When we were getting ready to leave this morning, you started saying things like, "what is this?", 

and "I can do this". You're beginning to put sentences together and it makes me so excited to be 

able to talk with you soon in much more detail. 

I'm a language teacher. I hope that I don't annoy you with my stories, or that I don't exaggerate 

too much about things that you were there to see. My point is that I'm completely changing into this 

dad-person every day, and just like you I'm growing and learning constantly. 

I'm not perfect, and that's okay, but I do have a few fears. I worry sometimes that you and I won't be 

buddies in the future. Sometimes fathers and sons get on weird, and I'm pretty guilty of being a 

strange person. But, I promise you that you will always be the shining light of my heart, and everything 

I say or do is out of awe that you are my son. You are my proudest moments and my most grateful of 

days. Let's just stay buddies, okay? 

So, you have this light-up thing that your Aunt Becca gave you. It makes rocket ships, star, planets 

and space objects float through your ceiling and bedroom walls at night. We lay in your bed every 

night and stare at the celestial shapes passing before us, and it's probably one of my most cherished 

moments of all time. 

See those stars, Salem? See that sky? They say it's the limit, but that's only true if you believe in limits. 

Follow your heart and don't forget that your father is incredibly proud to have you as a son.

-Dad

Letters to Salem

Hey Salem, You just turned 2 a few days ago, and I couldn't put this off for any longer. I want to write a few things down so we can look back at them someday, but also so you can know what it was like when you were very little. 

 You're a very curious little boy. I love to watch you see things for the first time and then become fascinated for days. A few short months ago you became interested in monster trucks, but you recently discovered dinosaurs (you call them 'saurs'). I think the water has been your most amazing discovery though, and this winter I am hoping to take you to swim lessons somewhere, although I'm not yet sure where. 

I love when we cuddle up and read stories before bed or nap time. As I write this, it hits me that you're too big to sit on my lap in a rocking chair before bed, and I will always remember those nights fondly. I used to hum to you, 'I got you babe..' and a little tear just came to my eye as I wrote those words. 

You're becoming a really cool guy, Salem. You make everybody smile whenever you are near, and we miss you whenever you are gone. I want to tell you something about the future, but there is no way to ever know what the future will bring. I want to show you so many things. I want to show you waterfalls, and not just the ones at Bavarian Inn. Those are nothing compared to the waterfalls in the jungle. Did you know your mom and I used to live in the jungle? 

Well, this is a new project I'm making, and I hope you find it someday. If I'm good about this, I'll write every so often and share with you a few thoughts. I think you're about to wake up from your nap and I should go eat something. I just shaved my head yesterday. I like it. I was worried that you wouldn't recognize me, but you smiled big when you saw me just like you always do. 

 Hey Salem, I hope we're buddies in the future. I'm trying my best to make a cool world for you to grow up in. I can't keep this bubble safe forever, and someday you'll be off to school. I just hope that you know this place will always be safe for you to come back to, and I will always be your dad. 

Love you, Slim 

-Dad

Mountains and Teachers

 

This is my last week off work before I go back to the boat world for a few months. It’s crazy to be writing about boats in this very same blog that I once so long ago wrote about boats, the cycle of things and the connections everywhere are both so evident. Yesterday I was laying in the grass in front of my house with my beautiful son and my gorgeous wife. Bits of the magnolia tree had fallen and collected from it’s recent pruning and Salem sat before the most amazing photo I’ve ever seen of him. I began to think of other times I’ve felt so free and suddenly as if a giant wave had passed over me I was transported through the travels of my life.

Long ago I sent out to travel the world and I had never even dared to come up with a good reason why. “Why” would imply a question and I knew such self-interrogation would only come up unanswered. Maybe I was a coward, maybe too young, but the world scared the hell out of me. Life scared me. I wasn’t afraid of death but afraid of a life less lived. It seemed to me that our culture, at least the one I’m familiar with here in the Midwest, had been missing out on something. The young, punk-minded boy that I was wanted to feel something older, I knew there was wisdom in all things older, I had a feeling somehow. Maybe that’s why I used to watch documentaries about tribes in Africa and South America who had so little contact with the outside world. As a college kid who experimented in ways to chug beer and design illogical bongs out of aquarium parts, I had begun to feel the need to find something deeper in my freedoms. The balance between my understanding of living life to it’s fullest and my desire to understand more about the ways of the old world were something always called into consideration.

I long for a type of freedom as there are many freedoms. To me, freedom means being lost in nature where the Earth is your guide and her mountains are your teachers. That’s a heavy concept for the world of sights and sounds to understand as we so frequently and unceremoniously dedicate our lives to our careers and our pursuits of something greater. I respect the art of work, I plan to work as long as I can. In this brief experience here on Earth I’ve called many professions my job but nothing has ever brought me the satisfaction of being called a teacher.

I’m working on it. In recent posts I’ve felt choked up by uncertainty but I see clearly now what I must do. I’ll finish my degree this year and even before doing that I’ll be calling myself a teacher again. This time around I’m going to start remotely, living with my family wherever our passions and curiosities may take us. I want to wake up near the mountains, grateful for the lessons they have prepared for me that day.

Man, I’ve been working hard. Too hard. It cost me a trip to the emergency room and a replacement on my radial head of my right elbow. It could have cost me much more and I shudder to think about it. There is no denying now that this was clearly an act of fate and I need no more proof that there are forces in this world stronger than you or I can comprehend.

“The universe is conspiring in your favor.” Somebody once told me this and once in a while the truth of that statement surfaces itself. For now, I need four and a half months of washing boats. Washing boats. Washing boats. I remember writing those same words into this same blog (the mookfish version) so long ago when I was waiting to be sent to Samoa with the Peace Corps. That was the most amazing feeling being on the verge of something so great and today it’s even more amazing to be feeling that all over again. Believe in me, in us.

Chess Pieces

 Salem just turned six months old last Sunday.  He's grown so much from a tiny baby into a little boy and I've been home for the last six weeks to see some of his most amazing changes.  I loved watching him discover new things.  It's amazing when he drops what he is doing and becomes so immediately focused on my hands or a tag hanging from a pillow.  The world is very new to him and I am so blessed to be a part of it.

I'm at a very peaceful place.  Books are interesting to me, which is something very out of character if you know me and my embarrassingly weak reading skills.  My arm is healing although I'm becoming increasingly aware that parts of my arm will never return to normal and that is a humbling feeling.  Things are well at home but I want to talk about my escape plan.  Five months of washing boats then I'll begin school fulltime as well as taking a part time position teaching English online.  That gives us an unimaginable amount of freedom and I've been racking my brain trying to figure out what to do about it.  The mountains are calling me but I'm not sure from where.  It's a beautiful and familiar voice that hasn't spoken to me in a long time and now that she is back I promise not to stop listening ever again.

Think young fool, think... what is the next move?

I think I need to get to Seattle in September, but what next?

How to Build an Airship

 Many moons ago I lived in the company of some of the greatest minds I've ever met and they are still my best friends today.  During the later years of university we would stay up all night, drinking potions and talking loudly about the world we knew, trying to make sense of something that we all felt we were a part of, something huge.  We didn't know it at the time but a feeling in our guts was beginning to tell us that the journey we would each be setting out upon, a journey personalized for each one of us, would be very difficult and come with many life-changing experiences that no fortune teller could ever predict.  We were building an airship and until very recently it had been quite long time since I felt the excitement of being involved in such a project.

The last I heard from myself in the form of this blog I was feeling a hefty burden of uncertainty that was beginning to tighten her grip on my spirit.  I could hardly use my good arm and it was very difficult to type.  I still have trouble holding a pen or playing music but for now I'll keep the happiness that came with my modest improvements in whichever form I can get.  I sat alone with myself and looked deep into my everything.  Gods, I have been so foggy lately yet now things are beginning to focus again with clarity.  I know now what I have to do so let's stop being esoteric about it and explain.  I'm going to try to expedite my Master's degree and get this party started.  There is no need to lay out a formula on here for how I'm going to do it, this is nothing I can't handle, but I'm speaking directly to my future self and declaring that a few short months after my 40th birthday I will indeed have a fine airship built, ready to fly again.

To build an airship, a majestic world-wandering machine fueled by magical principals, one must grant oneself a simple and well thought out list of tasks.  This list is your blueprints.  It is foolish to build something so important without blueprints.  Next you must define the supplies and tools with which you plan to accomplish your task and part of this includes actual budgeting of how much time and money you can afford to spare while building an escape pod in your backyard.  This is of course something you're probably doing in secret during your free time.  People will notice and therefore the next step is to have an alibi of your plans.  People tend to look at you weird when they know you are building an airship, sometimes they are jealous, yet sometimes you will chance upon other airship craftspeople who know exactly what you're up to.  Lastly, you have to learn how to fly.  I can't teach you how to fly, I just jumped from a cliff and into the clouds and that was long, long ago.  Now I'm learning how to fly with a family.

Doubt

 In the past I had always boldly sworn that uncertainty and doubt were old friends of mine.  I used to think that the subtle loom of worry and the creeping anxiety were sign of something great to come, not fear of an undesirable outcome.  This type of uncertainty makes our heads spin if we let it so these days I'm trying to keep it together and so far doing fairly well.  My arm is pretty busted though, I was hoping by now to have been typing with both hands.

As of now I have only just started looking into this new path I'm on, maybe I'll be esoteric about it and maybe somebody still reads this blog and gets what I am talking about.  Something huge is in the air and it feels like a massive change.  It is not only globally but each of us individually, no doubt, I see it all over my friends and my strangers.  I thought my arm would be better by now and I thought I'd feel courageous enough to begin asking for advice about my path but these things take time.  It's okay to stay up late looking at the snow and wondering if it were ever sunny outside.  My son is loving this time I am blessed to spend with him and it is truly through him that I have reawakened.  I feel like my body has just been pulled from the matrix and I'm trying to get feeling back in my limbs fast enough to grab my family and escape from this burning rock.  That's perhaps too dramatic.

Focus man.  Keep your head up, way up.  The tingling in my arm and numbness in my hand will pass, it has already started doing so, and soon you will see things more clearly.  I know that.  I'm only human but I plan to be an awesome one, you should expect no less for yourself.