Classic Rock Thoughts

‘A love struck Romeo…”

This has been the first real winter some of the kiddos have ever had.  Snow falls in large, fluffy, flakes, covering the ground with the promise of adventure.

I am inside cleaning, fighting an internal battle between what makes sense (finishing projects, including laundry) and the absurd (running outside with a camera or driving out into the mess just to do it).  Through the cable box, the classic rock station plays.  Songs that I skip on my iPod because of the memories they encapsulate are allowed the freedom to be heard.  Why don’t I delete them from the playlists?  Well, it’s not like I dislike the song.  Its the memory that becomes the problem.

“Play your love songs all night long for me…”

It’s a haze of white outside.  The pull is stronger now.  I would love to call my friends and see who else wants to be ridiculous.  The voice in the back of my mind, the worried looks from loved ones, stops me.  You dislocate one kneecap….you almost dehydrate and have to be put in the hospital…. you are involved in a car accident….when you live too far for those loved ones to help, and their fear seeps into your thought process.  It’s not just their fear though.  It’s also the fear of the pain you felt, the worry of the possible result that you so narrowly missed, that keeps you in as you get older.

I just couldn’t bear providing any more pain to them. 

Still, you have to take a risk sometimes.  It gets to a point where the itch is too strong and a reaction is needed.  Newton had it down pat – you can only pull back for so long before it has to flip the other way.

The nice thing is, if you are lucky (and I am lucky) you have the support system that just wants you to be. 

“Gimme three steps…”

Here I am, being me….now, where are my boots?

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The Ghosts Of Snow Days Past

I can see them walking in the pole lights.  A group of friends, laughing in the evening snow fall.  You wouldn’t know there is a girl walking with them.  It really doesn’t matter that she’s there.  She’s always there.  That’s why they had to get her.  This adventure wouldn’t be the same without their friend.

Those boys have no idea how much this night will resonate with her – how much they mean to her. 

They run and slide on the slush.  Snowballs fly through the air.  A car comes by, and they dive for cover.  Parents are looking for them.  They don’t want to be found. 

Not yet…not yet…the night is not yet over.  The snow day is not yet over.

Laughter floats, while the childish use of curse words are spoken in a poorly attempted whispers.  They keep going down the road, further and further away from the field.  It doesn’t matter that they should have been home hours ago, or that their clothes are wet from sledding.  Their breath heats the air around their bundled faces.  It’s as if nothing could touch them. 

Nothing will….they are infinite in that moment. 

Years from now, that small group of 13 year olds will grow up.  Marriages will occur, children will be born, and distance will pull this group apart.  Life will happen for each one of them and it will be amazing, terrifying, beautiful, tragic, and 1000s of better adjectives.  It will be the most fantastic adventure yet. 

But tonight….tonight, they are a group of hollow kids, hiding from their parents with the hope that the snow day doesn’t have to end.