Three Weeks with My Lover

Topsider’s, lights on, let’s go! A gentlemanly hand-hold down the steps. Folk music. Yes. Pete. A Silverton. Disbelief. Mophead heckling. Magic. It has been ten years. A picture in the mirror: I don’t mind working hard. Pisces Squared. Not that I believe that stuff. www.tarot.com www.kcrw.com Are you ignoring me? Belgium. Belgium beer. Yumm! Leffe: But how is it properly pronounced? Lef-e’ or Lef? Topsider’s dollar night. Hot and sweaty dancing. Swoon. A boat ride. Religion is sci-fi to me. Meeting Chris. Meeting Kelly. Dog Days with friends. What concert? Straight gin? Many nights on the boat. One night on the ferry. The heavens fell for us. 78 unexpected shooting stars. I won! Well over a hundred the next night! Girl Scout cove. I know how to take a picutre. 30 second exposure. Deleted memories. Oysters. Mornings on the boat. Swimming. Lots of swimming. Skinny dipping. Lots of skinny dipping. The sunrise. More skinny dipping. A stand-up jet-ski and the courage to ask. Meet the parents. Brian, Cindy, Clint. The best! Mike, Lynn, Dylan. Bonus. Trivial Pursuit. Wakeboarding anyone? DockNockers. Real Oysters. There is no i in “ring game”. Family magic. I know his earliest childhood memory. What? Obama – NObama. I really REALLY like your dad! Your mom is great and she loves me! Swimming on your back three feet under the water looking up at the surface. You smell like sweet rum. Well I should, I’m on a boat. I’ve tasted the good life. No I’ve tasted the good life. Velsheda in the Mediterranean or SCUBA diving the north shore of Oahu? Laughing until it hurts. Can I drive your car? Can I drive yours? Reality check: What are you two going to do next week? Silence. I love you. You don’t say I love you after sex. I love you, too. Chimay. Euthanizing a puppy. Walking to the Bread Company. 2x5 or 3+3+4. Bruises. Waxing. But it wasn’t for you. I’m on a boat! It took thirty hours to get here. Casa de Loco Winery. Wow, a long distance relationship! A bottle of Cab and more skinny dipping, but in the river this time. Scared. This is the point in the movie the couple gets killed! Allez – come on! Fog in the fields. More boat rides. The Cure – Pictures of You. Fixing a lock. Packing a car. Hot shower. Hot water. REALLY hot shower. Stolen art work, stolen wine glasses and stolen hearts. Welcome to mi casa. Motorbike, hold on! Mary. itap. More Belgium beer. Yumm. Hamburger Helper at midnight. Simi cab. Pictures until we collapse. Coffee with Tim. Omelet with the faux French. Are we doing this? Yes. Beef jerky, trucker speed and good-byes. Et la.

My Frist Triathlon

Today I was asked to put together a paragraph about myself. A short description the announcers can use when they broadcast the race live on May 30th over the Principia College Internet Radio. I did just that below and thought I’d share on my blog:


Tony (me)

I am a 35 year old father to my beautiful three year old daughter Gracie. I have always been somewhat active; but never competitive in any of these disciplines. I grew up around the water and have always enjoyed swimming. Likewise, I have rode mountain bikes for years. I started running last year to impress a girl – for the record it worked! I did a few short 5 & 10k runs last fall and really enjoyed them. In January of this year I started training for the Go St. Louis half marathon and fell in love with the scheduled regimen and dedication it took to train five days a week – not to mention the physical benefits I saw in the mirror and on the scale! I set a goal of 2 hours and beat it by just over 1m 30s – I was ecstatic! I have always wanted to do a triathlon but in the past I was afraid of the run. With a solid base of running now under my belt I decided to sign up for the Lake St. Louis Olympic distance triathlon and started my training for that race this coming August. This sprint is my first triathlon and I’m super excited about the idea of putting together three activities I really enjoy!

http://www.escapetothebluffs.com/

A Gift

“Music” by Henri Matisse (1907)

Music has always spoken to me, as it does so many. As a listener, we are afforded the creative freedom to bend lyrics - almost molding them around our personal situations as they seem to mostly fit. When we relate to a song it makes us smile and usually feels good. I'm good at molding. I like relating. I want that feeling! Sometimes our strongest desires make us hastily connect to certain lyrics that might not completely encompass our story. Yet, it still seems to work – it still feels good.

For the first time I have lyrics in front of me that need not be molded. They don’t call for wishful thinking to fit a certain situation – they don’t because they were written for me…


"Invisible Kisses"

Will you still be here when I return?
Where will you have gone in the meantime?
Your story could never disappoint me

Cloaked by the distance of space and time
Doesn't make them any less real
It makes me smile to think of the many kisses
I place on your forehead morning and night

I have felt you before and I am stronger for it
You are in my story, and I am in yours
Better told after our encounter

Cloaked by the distance of space and time
Doesn't make them any less real
It makes me smile to think of the many kisses
I place on your forehead morning and night

~

Smiling he says, thank you.

I Don't Hate Monday's!

I spent the weekend on my boat – something I try to do religiously. My season starts sometime around the early part of March and often extends through the middle of November. It is a longer season than most experience - at least for this latitude of the Midwest - but then again, I rarely settle for practices acceptable by most! I went to bed early last night, knowing that I would be up much earlier than normal this morning to make the just over two-hour commute from my marina to the office. The gentle movement from the wind and waves, the familiar sounds of the marine air and the many motors and pumps operating rhythmically throughout the night are coupled with the seasonal smells of the lake and offer a deep serenity unlike anything else in my world. Even the short and narrow bed comfortably reminds me of my whereabouts and presence aboard my weekend retreat. The alarm on my phone set for four-O-early A.M. seemed a mild penance for the extra hours afforded with “her” this weekend.

A cup of coffee later I was heading east toward the e-mails, voice-mails, and the Monday morning meetings. After watching the sun rise over the many fog laden fields and forests along the back roads of Missouri I started catching up with some friends in typical texting fashion. (yes, I text while driving) The conversations from this morning were cheerful and bright for such an early hour; a very drastic contrast to the radio DJ who was allowing these miserable souls to phone in and explain why they hated Mondays. The callers sounded like they were describing a man who had brutally murdered their children – you could hear the anger and pure hatred in their voices. I kept turning the station out of disgust but inevitably found myself lured back by the genre and the music that flowed in-between callers; only to have the misery that loves company force my right arm toward the round dial again. "I’m not like them, I don’t hate Mondays," I thought. In fact, there is not much I do hate. I don’t love my job, I don’t love leaving the boat when the weekend is over and I really don’t even care that much for winter. I don’t like mayonnaise, I don’t like Brittney Spears, and I don’t like politics – but rarely will you see or hear me dwell on these things. Our energy is so much better spent focusing on the things we do enjoy, the things that, when we influence them, will make a positive difference in someone’s life!

The following is a small section of the text:

Me: …I got to watch the sunrise while driving – beautiful
Texting Friend: That sounds nice. R u tired?
Me: I got up at 5 to get ready, almost at office. I’m a bit sore from yesterday but not really tired, feeling pretty good!
Texting Friend: Sounds like you had an amazing weekend. Although I get the feeling u have those a lot.
Me: Hah… Well I strive for an amazing everything! There is no need to settle for any less!
Texting Friend: When we were looking at ur profile last night. Ur statement under ur pic describes u perfectly…..when I read it I said. Yep that’s tony.

Happy Birthday to Me

I sit her today full of emotions. Emotions that are so very different from the ones I’ve experienced previously around this time of the year. The holiday-less calendar hanging on the cluttered wall to my right shows only a few days until my first birthday. While it is true that I’ll be celebrating thirty-five years of life, this year marks the first time I’ll be celebrating my birthday with the woman who gave birth to me and then gave me away for a better life – my birth mother, Diana. Our story is truly amazing, deserving of an entire novel, my blog is deserving of a post, and I need to write - something, desperately.

Birthdays were always hard. Birthdays were the one day of the year when (or if) any hope existed that She was thinking about me – this would be the day. Past emotions bordered on depression, sadness, hopelessness, and inanition; while simultaneously I would experience the exact opposite of each of those feelings. The internal emotional conflict adoptees face throughout there life, but especially on their birthday, are beyond my writing abilities. I’m struggling here - wanting to try to accurately articulate my experiences so that others might gain a better understanding into our lives. The following is my best attempt: “Happy Birthday” they tell you. The day you feel like crying and laughing at the same time - all day - while screaming to world from the top of the highest building but feeling like you are stuck inside a dark closet surrounded by your family but feeling totally alone. The day you question your existence; not just your purpose in life, but truly your existence in this world while smiling as you blow out the candles of the cake offered to you as a celebration – something you can’t quite come to terms with yet. So defenselessly you repress those feelings and you cry into your pillow that night not knowing what to do or how to feel, only knowing that your birthday is unlike everyone else’s and it’s really not that happy.

Last year, on my 34th birthday I figured out what I needed to do. I started my search. Less than three weeks later I was sitting at the kitchen table, sobbing, as the woman who gave birth to me was holding my naked feet in her hands for the first time...

My birthday also coincides with a holiday known more so for its green beer and a random excuse to party in the middle of March. I’ve had multiple invitations for the evening’s affairs but can think of only one person I would like to spend my birthday with this year – my first birthday with my birth mother.

Politics

I was told once that I was a Republican. It was an interesting and humorous conversation. I had invited some friends aboard my boat; they brought with them some additional friends that I had never met. One was a Republican who held an elected position within our state. Throughout the evening - as you might imagine - politics were discussed. Mind you, I try to steer clear of these conversations as often as possible due to my own mixed views and often lack of knowledge to speak intelligently on most political subjects. At one point however, this guy suggested I was in fact a Republican. I actually stopped him and questioned his quick labeling of my voting record. Up until that point I had not added to any of the conversations in a way that could have offered insight into my views; but without missing a beat he said, “You own a f*&!ing yacht! You are a Republican!”

Over the years I have mostly allowed that label to stick. Very often though, find myself having serious issues with many of the ideas, beliefs, and the people associated with both parties. I rarely find myself talking politics unless I get dragged into the conversation. I find that I have very deep rooted beliefs which are emotionally tied to who I am and the choices I make. Some fall on the left, some on the right.

When I came across the above bumper sticker I laughed! Clearly I enjoy “half-full” references and I think this one speaks volumes about what is wrong with the two-party system in our country.

The Picture in the Mirror

It’s easy to critique a picture…

We throw stones. Big ones. Don’t we? We hurl them as hard and as far as we can! And it usually feels good! We look for validation of our own actions, our own humanity hidden among the defects, the secrets, and the faults of others. It is easy to look closely at a picture and do just this. We find those things we want to see, those things we need to see.

Can you do the same with a mirror?

As the year comes to an end, we hear people talking about the future and the past. We hear about New Year’s resolutions and reflections from the past year. When we reflect on the last year we take a look into the proverbial mirror of our own life. Sometimes we are our own worst critic and sometimes we stand so close to the mirror we are unable or unwilling to see our own shortcomings. We can use these reflections to change our lives.

An old adage says that people resist change but there is an equally as popular one that says we embrace tradition. The changing of the calendar offers us a chance to shake our personal Etch A Sketch, erase the past, and make a conscious decision to do something, anything, differently this year.

Look in the mirror and find yourself. I did.