The College View

Yesterday I went shopping after work for one purpose: to buy a pillow.

As I walked around in the store I thought of other things that would be useful. I tried on some new dress pants and dress shoes and settled on one pair of each for work. Next I found some white T-shirts, some new socks and underwear. As I continued around the store I found some bowls and spoons, some cheep microwave plates and some reusable sandwich containers.

Soon afterwards I found a dish rack and some dish soap and headed for the checkout. It wasn’t until I was walking out of the store that I remembered the whole reason I was there, but by that time it was too late. I’d have to get it tomorrow when I deposited my checks at the bank.

How many times will this happen to me in my life? Will it be only in the small fleeting moments, or is it possible I could spend my entire life pursuing similarly unimportant things only to discover that at the end of my days on earth I have not accomplished the very thing that I was born to do?

Fortunately, I think I have discovered what my purpose in life is, and I intend to work very diligently to accomplish this end. Perhaps in a few years I will be clear if my efforts were in the right direction, but for now I have high hopes.

There I stood, the gaurdian, within a magic world.

A top a bountiful treasure trove that lies beneath the stone.

On that night, oh dreary night, the offenders they did come,

to breach the path that lies beneath and take the treasure home.

In a rush I did persue the case, and the chase did lead me there.

but threatened by the chance of death I found in me much fear.

A flood of thought entered my mind and my body I did turn,

To face the others braver than I, and bow my head in shame.

I wish I could be more productive, but something must be let go.

An avalanche is chasing me and it weighs much more than snow.

So rather than try to ride it out I will face this storm head on.

And charge straight into the white with my pencil drawn.

Page by page and book by book I will now progress

To learn the knowledge they contain and pass this final test.

And so I bid fair well sweet blog until this time is through,

I promise to return to write … Perhaps in a week or two.

My Easter break was good, but I had one low point on Sunday.

Have you heard the humorous story about three men condemned to death in France by the guillotine? It’s kind of like that.

The executioner asks the first man if he has any last words. The man says his words and the blade comes down only to stop an inch above his neck. The executioner deems it an act of God and the first man is set free. The same thing happens for the second man and he is set free.

Finally the executioner asks the last man (who happens to be an engineer) if he has any last words. The engineer then says," If you put a shim in the slide right here and adjust the tension in the cross member here the blade won’t get stuck."

Just like the engineer in the story I managed to let my technical knowledge compel me to do something stupid like start an unnecessary argument. It was so unnecessary it is laughable, yet I couldn’t help but try and explain what I knew.

The argument was about (brace yourself) the real reason that small potatoes cook faster than big potatoes. If I just could have kept my mouth shut…..

Sitting in my chair because I have no strength to stand.

Staring at the wall because I do not comprehend.

I try to read between the lines but all I see is red.

The dreams I had are dying and their blood is poisoning my head.

Lately to take a break from more serious work I have been enjoying the comical stylings of the penguins from the Madagascar movie series. 

See Operation Tourist Trap.

Skipper, Ricco, Private and Kowalski… They really crack me up.

I think I could see something like this happening near Medora, except with prairie dogs.  As you can see the local prairie dogs are much more vicious looking than those penguins.

Upon a plain of sparkling white, near shimmering pools and dancing light,

Where beauty walks through water and the sun shines down on me,

There are two angels in the snow; a timeless memory.

Stuck like four eggs fried together without a Teflon pan,

Or toast to melted butter in the mind of mortal man.

Hear! Hear! I raise my glass of milk to drink to us today

Another timeless memory is in my mind to stay.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for reading my writing today.  My beautiful three week vacation from school is drawing to an end and I have much work to do before monday.  Today I would like to share a short story about seeing the world through a child’s eyes.

The barbershop was crowded for a friday afternoon.  The blended aroma of shampoo,  and syling gell wafted pleasantly around the room as I entered.  The stylist told me it would be about 30 minutes so I decided to wait.

I took a seat next to the door and began to look around the room.  To my right there were two older gentleman, one with shiny black shoes, black slacks, a neatly ironed white shirt, gold wrist watch and white hair.  Next to him was a heavier set gentleman with darker hair and khaki pants.  To my left was a young man dressed in ragged jeans and big tennis shoes with the laces undone that was constantly texting on his cellular phone.

Two minutes after sitting down a young girl about 7 or 8 years old walks up to the window and pears in.  She then grabs the door handle and places her foot on the door frame to pull the door open.

Love is a strong word. I did not hear it spoken often when I was really young, but looking back it was understood. Despite this early understanding, somehow things seemed to change as I got older.

When my brother and sisters and I began to get involved with extracurricular activities at school, the daily rituals of eating together and bedtime prayers got lost in the shuffle and eventually fell to the wayside. At the time I wasn’t too heartbroken. I was getting older and more independent so it seemed alright to me.

Things were fine for a while, but the years came and went and with them went the powerful understanding of love that we once had. Without our daily family activities our ties began to strain and weaken. It was as though we were together but separated.

The absence of the word love from our spoken vocabulary left a void that was never filled. Our interactions became those of necessity; chores, work and housekeeping. With less and less positive interactions to reaffirm what was once understood, the small little conflicts began to add up and slowly the balance of our family began to shift.

I left home before everything fell apart, but I can’t help but wonder where we would be if we hadn’t taken love for granted. If we had given just a little more of our time or at least stopped to tell one another how much we really cared would things have turned out differently?

Yes, Love is a strong word. Though I do not wish to cheapen its meaning by using it loosely, I have learned from my past that I must let others know how I feel. If my feelings are left unsaid, our time spent apart will be less bearable and we may loose faith in our own understanding.

A rich man needs it, a poor man has it, and it is greater than God.  What is it?