Wet

Two boys run wildly from base to base, their hair stuck to their foreheads with sweat.
One is large, one small.
They play furiously, like Aztecan warriors golden brown.
A mother's limp pleas fall to the earth like noodles, sticky and useless.
They will not come home, not now.
They kick and rail, stirring the brown earth to life.
Elbows and knees pay the price, a day's work apparent in the holes.
The tiny drops loosed during their ritual purify the soil, and they dance.
Rumble.
Rumble.
It is working. They can hear.
Rumble.
Eyes cast up, they raise their arms in tribute.
One, two, three, ten thousand.
A smile to cleanse this damn world's palate.
And the mother, towels in hand, swoops in like a hen to collect her chicks.

Share, and share alike...

I recently came to a very small, but probably really important, realization while sitting in the airport in Los Angeles. I was having a brief chat with the fellow siting next to me about the (ludicrous) size of the trophies being carried by a series of children toward their gate. I mean, some of these things looked close to 5 feet tall and were being carried by kids as young as maybe 8-10. We, this fellow and I, both shared a laugh about the comedic scene before us. It was slightly later, when I was sitting alone at my gate in the middle of a 3 hour layover, that I realized how important and special it is to share a laugh with someone. Looking back on my trip, I had shared laughs with many people. Some in airports, some in casinos, some on the street. Some of those laughs were with my friends, and moments with friends are very important. Most, however, were with complete strangers. What I find so important about this sharing is that we were able to find a bond, a common denominator, between us, and that connection, if only for a brief moment in a sea of complete strangers, resonated deeply within us both. That connection, even if we never (and probably won't) see each other again, is immensely important because it is the prime example of how we are all one people. We might look, speak, act, or smell differently, but we are all here together, living our lives in the one place we have to live it. We could have both, in any of those situations, let the moment pass by without a mention of each other, or worse, found differences between us. We did not, however. We bonded, and we should do more of that. So, with that said, go bond y'all. Share a laugh with someone. It's probably one of the most fulfilling things you can do.

No sleep til Vegas?

Maybe, but it isn't the impending trip that is keeping me up when I haven't went to sleep since Tuesday night. Sitting here at my gate, looking at an empty plane being prepped for flight, I wonder how many people have sat in the same place I am, waiting on a flight out of Nashville. However, instead of going somewhere they are returning home. I saw a man walk by several minutes ago with a guitar case on his back. Only minutes before a woman walked by with a similar case. Did they come to Nashville to make it big in music, only to be forced to strap up their guitar (on their back) and return to where they came from? Were they trying to live their dream, only to see it go unrealized once again? Maybe... I guess they can at least say they played in Nashville for what that's worth. Wondering about these people I remembered what is important about their walk from security to their gate. This trip to Music City may not have been what they hoped, but they tried, and at the end of the day that's all the world can ask of you. If you know what your dream is and make an honest effort to see it come to fruition, well, no one can hold anything against you. It forces me to realize how little I have actually tried to accomplish my dream. I've been lazy, and I am wasting what some would call my 'talent,' although I don't particularly like that term. So, as I am sitting in the airport thinkig about these people, I want to thank them for trying. While they may not have accomplished their dream yet, they have accomplished a goal and completed a step. Moreover, they convinced me to write something, even if it is just a short blog about two people walking through an airport with their guitars. To you, dream chasers, thank you. Don't let this be your last trip home. I hope to make one soon as well.