Category Archives: essay

Road Trippin…..

Road Trippin

 

There’s the rumble of the tires on the asphalt road, the wind blowing across the car with deafening sound and sweaty hair stuck to faces, as kids in the back seat ask, “When are we going to get there?”

There’s a stop for gas and a Polaroid camera, the station with a general store attached to it has salt water taffy and I am happy; all the flavors are my favorites! The man came out and began to fill my dad’s car up with gas and he washed the bugs off the windshield too! He and my dad chatted as the man pointed here and there as they were both looking at the atlas.

My mom sprayed her hair with hairspray and went back to reading her romance paperback. I don’t know why she keeps doing that we’re all choking back here! Also my mother thinks we can’t read too, it’s a book about kissing I am sure of it!

My brothers argue and wrestle, but me, I just peered out into the sky above me. I’m watching the clouds; they somehow look different out here. I suppose being out in the middle of nowhere means there just might be a little more sky!

I see there is way more room to play, but it doesn’t look like there are any kids around, just miles of corn and behind that  miles more of corn!  By the time my dad has gotten back into the car, I have already spotted an entire zoo worth of animals in those clouds, and I can even swear I see my grandmother’s face there too!

Time to go back onto the humming road now and count the thwamps and rumbles on the different pavements and undoubtedly I will fall fast asleep and miss the Native Americans on the plains that I think I might see.  I will also miss the license plate game my mom will play or 50 guesses question game, but who cares I’ll have my dreams of being a prairie girl like in my story books.

I’ll dream of what could be in the next town and the town after that!  And from this day on I will always have a sense of wonder, of what that next town will bring, more flavors of taffy pulled; I hope, or maybe just maybe, how many more miles of unfound zoo animals or grandmothers faces will be in the sky above me.

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Dunes Beach Party

 

Oh how I remember those fun times so fondly, where teenage hanging out reigned supreme!

Summer was always so short (i.e. having fun), so gather your friends and get it together! Parties, bonfires in the woods and of course beach party flings were filling the calendar quickly and soon I’d be a senior in high school. There wasn’t a minute to waste, no not thinking about even making future plans like college or classes to take, but I mean getting to the mall (yes even back then there was one)!  There were new bikinis to buy and lip gloss and records (yes I’m that old, also shut up!) and possible concert tickets! Oh those were the days when the minimum wage was low and stuff cost less and I was skinny enough to make a halter out of knotted together bandanas and shoes were always optional!

Within two days of the last day of school car loads of teens made mass exoduses out of their respective subdivisions and out into the wanderlust of their souls. The forest preserves back then were filled with excellent music blasting and super championships of Frisbee, and if one wanted to, there was a guy in a van that would give you an excellent tattoo! How innocent were those that actually did that kind of stuff (no, I didn’t) but actually one never heard of blood borne diseases just yet. Nor did anyone actually die of such an adventure, that we were aware.

So the Frisbees flew and the days were long and the music was as hot as the pavement and it was all good. Especially if one could pack in at least six friends at one time into your car or jeep or special guy’s muscle car and cruise anywhere!  There were nice beaches along Chicago’s lakefront, but the older one got the further from home we wanted to go.

So, the Dunes of Indiana or Michigan called our names. Plans were made, cars were loaded with Styrofoam coolers of Pepsi and bags of Lays chips and with Coppertone oil and chewing gum, sunglasses, cigarettes, transistor radio and towels were filled. As our parents waved a quick goodbye, a virtual parade of cars gather at the station to fill the tanks with gas and on the road we went!  Our heads and arms hanging out open windows, bare feet on dashboards and smiles from ear to ear. The parade proceeded following the one and only guy who knew how to get there! (No google maps people…just handwritten directions or yes an atlas/map was used). The car I was in had one because my dad threw it at me before I left; dad telling me to “give it to the guy driving” because you will get lost!

We arrive! Fabulous expanse of beach lay before us, the weather was hot, we scoped our spots and laid down our blankets as far from people as we could. We nicknamed our spot Camp Beach!  We had the best time, all of use sunburnt tan lines and happiness tired; the girls decide to go to find the beach house to use the washroom. When we came out with freshly rinsed feet (shower was free) we headed back to our blanket camp. Dunes contain ups and downs and they sometimes go for miles and miles but your feet were baby smooth (no pedicures needed the sand provided them) we four were nearly back when we realized we were being followed by four guys we did not know! When we approached our blankets, the followers tried to talk to us and we expressed that we were taken by these guys here, they said oh ok. But they proceeded to park themselves right next to us! Well yes, you guessed it a horrible fight ensued and punches in our honor were thrown. A melee of sand was tossed and naturally a park ranger happened by, all was ended and everyone went their separate ways. We had enough of sun and fun and packed up Camp Beach. As we did this the boys were getting in their respective cars to drive and asked me for their wallets (the boys put their wallets into my beach bag for safe keeping so they didn’t lose them or get them wet)!! But when I reached into the bag, they were all gone! Every single wallet was stolen by those creepy guys! It was the worst ending a beautiful day could have. Not one of us ever recovered any of our wallet contents and lessons were learned that day!

We all could not wait to get home, and now with sunburn all I wanted was my mommy! So much for growing up!

Cancer….You Suck

….You rear your ugly head……like a monster you destroy everything in your path…….

Cancer you suck!!

 

I delve into the age old question, why?  I’m sure that each one of you has known someone or has been personally touched by cancer in some way. It hurts. And again, it has touched me up close and personal; with one of my family members currently going through it. As I sit here in the cancer center looking around thinking of each person I say a small good vibes prayer.

I see that each of them is at different stages of life as well as different stages of cancer. It hurts. I see the people who are expressionless sitting next to their loved one and friend accompanying them for support and love. I see the end of the line and now I can recognize the beginning so easily.

I also see spirit, and in the eyes of so so many I see hope~ I wish I had some type of superpower because this would be it; the ability to eradicate cancer, all of them in one quick scoop! The sheer suffering and pain of each of them fills the air, one can feel it. The beeps of the machines when the I.V. drip is done, keeps my mind from drifting too far, as I imagine that each one sitting here in this center, is floating on a crystal blue surf at a tropical white sandy beach, where each of them is being served the tastiest foods and drinks all while feeling never a pain. Is this too much to ask?

Cancer is a surreal thing just as dreams are. The treatments follow a protocol, that’s simple enough but people are as different as their disease is too. You’re a creepy monster cancer and I dislike you so much. I see now why you are so hard to cure. If it has to be, then why can’t you just be quick? Spare them, spare us~

Take care each of us, live today and laugh, be happy. Share if you can goodwill to another, for tomorrow is not guaranteed~

Identity

My thoughts on identity.

Identity, it’s a source of self. Identity defined is simply being who or what a person or a thing is.

But wait, it is also a close similarity or affinity to something. So much lately has been in the news about

one’s self and our human attachment to an identity. I’m guessing people have been thinking way

outside the box!

Sense of self is important to us; it is where we find our personal security. It is for our sense of comfort.

Lately though, the extreme examples of finding one’s identity have been exhibited for all to see. Human

beings are creatures that crave identities because I think that people gravitate toward each other in

seeking out themselves. This is why we have clubs, support groups, and otherwise genres of t.v.

programming.

For example, taking reality t.v. into account and the types of people who watch them are perhaps

as “on the edge” as those on the shows and somehow the viewer is striving to see themselves.  The

subject matter of changing genders or assigning a gender to ourselves is an interesting one. While there

are people out there somewhere whom are choosing to be this or that, there still are as many more

born to be someone or something else. These people time and again, say they knew for themselves

they were not the appropriate gender, or knew that somehow they were not comfortable in the role

they had been living Or that they sought out love from an undisclosed gender for

example.  Or still yet, that they find themselves somehow being a “misfit” of sorts.

Identity is also something that fits you like a personal glove:  be it your job, or your life course

and sometimes, as we very recently have witnessed the racial identity of a person. One can identify with

the life that one is living. With job loss there is an identity loss, perhaps due to circumstances we squash

all that we want to be for what we have to be. Now, these subject matters bring me to understanding

and the compassion part of it to this essay. I just say let live because although I may not like a

particular thing that is happening  to someone else, I cannot control it nor can I possibly imagine what

that person is feeling  or the freedom they get once expressing themselves~ I just can’t “identify” with

it!!

Identity is where we call ourselves comfortably home and the loss of it, or the real discovery of it may be

exactly what one needs to think way out of the box on this one~

 

Just my thoughts, just my opinions, and always in a Conversationaltone!

Just Dreaming…..

Just Dreaming……..
I was asked by a child of five the other day, “What is a dream?” And “Do dreams come true?”

So as I answered the questions in the terms I thought he’d understand; then it spurred my
thinking……
Dreams, when did I stop dreaming them? Am I just not remembering them or do I just never
have them? Great questions I posed to myself and now to you.

I love this…”Don’t you find it odd, he continued “that when you’re a kid, everyone all the world,
encourages you to follow your dreams. But when you’re older, somehow they act offended if
you even try.” Ethan Hawke~

Dreams in the most technical way are a simple series of thoughts, images and sensations
occurring in a person’s mind during sleep. No, that’s not exactly what I told the toddler, nor did I
tell them that sometimes those dreams are not all cotton candy and fairy tales. Sometimes dreams
can be dark and awful. But I felt confident that the toddler had a full toddler’s grasp on what a
dream was when I was done talking to him. Getting back to technicalities and research, it is
thought that everyone dreams between 3 to 6 times each night and the dreams can last anywhere
from 5 to 20 minutes. And then here’s the most interesting part, 95% of those dreams you just
had last night are gone and forgotten the minute one gets up!
So I guess that’s where my dreams go, back recessed into my main frame’s hard drive to be
stored in some weird way like a brain CD filled with my dreams, or pop up one day like “this
happened before” kind of thing! Deja’vu. Then there’s the scary movie that I’ll watch and I’m
afraid of dreaming now, So shutting my eyes voluntarily is simply out of the question! You

know those nights where your eyes are heavy and you really are tired, but you better not shut
your eyes…..
just in case. You’ll stand guard, wiping your eyes many times because you think you just saw the
door move, and then it’s time to turn on the nightstand light! Maybe if I read a book or think
funny thoughts that little Chucky guy in the corner will go away!

“Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming
dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before”
~Edgar Allen Poe

So I’ll just go back to what Ethan Hawke said, and I’ll just follow my daydreams…
and when I win that lottery you guys will all be the first to know~

Just my thoughts, just my opinions, but always in a ConversationalTone.~