Ridin' home, The Matrix, Chandlers, and walking the fields.

Strange how smells, tastes, sights, and sounds can trigger memories, or take you back to a time in your past.  Not necessarily a memory but a feeling from a time period in your life. 

I was driving home from work; turned on the radio; fumbled through the usual pop stuff, a little classical, blah, blah, blah.  Well then I hit KKZX just as Journey's "Don't Stop Believin" started.  You guys remember in the Matrix when you get sucked down that phone for the first time?  That sound and that holy fuck feeling?  Well, I did anyway; that is the best way to describe what happened to my brain; something deep in there.  Suddenly, I had that feeling I had from that time in my life.  I was there, and didn't want to leave.  I could feel all those dreams; the stupid ones that we know are going to come true but end up leaving us for someone, or something else.  Those dreams that take off to fool someone else.  My profile picture up there on Facebook; that is from that time.

I love that picture.  Although I wonder WTF happened to me!  Too much of a bad habit probably, and  I believe that there is a design flaw in the way we are made.  Hair should not leave it's rightful spot on the head and move to the ears, nose, and wherever else you might find it.  Where are those clothes now?  And look that is a rotary dial phone with a cord.  Amazing!  I miss the Chandler farm and the fun around that table where Mr. Chandler is sitting.  The table where Mrs. Chandler would sit laugh and make us all laugh just because of her happiness.  Lil' Chan and Joe look like they stepped right out of Back to the Future.  Holly, cute as hell, who we all had a crush on whether we would admit it, or not; most often not because then there would be much harassment.

These days I wonder what the hell I am doing pretty much everyday.  I expected to not be wondering about that by now.  I look at the pictures from when my dad was the age I am now.  What was he thinking?  What were his struggles?  His secret thoughts?  What was he going through?  I search his face and wonder.  What was going on behind that smile.  Everyone loved my dad; thought highly of him.  What did he think of himself? What, if anything, would he have done differently?

I call this blog Stubble Fields.  I call it that because I used to sit on the tree line and wait for something to walk out of the forest on the other side.  I realized it was like sitting between two worlds.  It is where as I sat I couldn't help but notice the little worlds right underneath my butt.  All the creepy crawlies that I so love that no one ever pays attention to.  I especially like to do this at dusk.  Once, as I walked on the edge of a field on Floyd Norris' land just as the last light of the day was fading; something shadowed me in the woods.  It would growl every time I would stop and look; the forest was too dark to see what it was.  I am pretty sure it was a coyote.  I like to do this, too, on cold fall mornings and listen to the ravens talk to each other across the valley. 

Well, that is enough for now.  Thank you for indulging me.