lantern + broken ladder

Every now and then, I feel like ... Well, if I lived in a tree house, life would be a little more adventurous. A little more stripped down. Perhaps more basic. With that, I bet life would be slightly more defined in its intent to be...

I've seen houses that are called "tree houses" which are actually half-a-million dollar palaces with DirecTV dishes that are bigger than a 1987 Yugo that are built between mammoth trees in the backyards of gazillionaires in remote parts of the nation... I've even seen television programs on the ins and outs of building said houses...

Me? I'm thinking of something a little different. Something with a little bit of something special that has been built without the aid of an architect, but designed more with heart. More from the inside and less from the outside. Does that make sense?

To keep me company, I would enlist my favorite.........

- dreamer (bsm*)

Thinking sweet things, always...

Do you remember what you did on Monday? Thought I'd ask. What about last Friday?

Have you ever sold anything out of the trunk of your automobile? I have...

Not sure if you heard, but the music community lost a great contributor on the 24th... Jay Bennett, who was a key component to the early Wilco vibes, passed away. His contributions before and after Wilco were solid and some of my favorite Wilco tunes were driven by him... His arrangements always came alive and his legacy will always be rich in my eyes. truly. Jay, despite the drama, I thought you rocked... May you rest your heavy heart, man.

Do yourself a favor and listen to Wilco's "My Darling" today, tonight, soon. It's only right.

Later on, bsm*

I want a Pink Thing.

More flags, more fun. Six Flags.

!!! Huh ???

How in the world does it go? Can someone please turn his voice off?

And how exactly will a dancing bald guy in a tuxedo prompt me to want to drop everything and go? Why is he pushing summer passes through EVERY media vehicle known to man? Why does he exist? To attract new visitors or to scare them away? This is best that they can do? "He" is the best gimmick that they could come up with? Why not choose "Gizmo," the little mogwai? Or Cate Blanchett? Or H.R. Pufnstuf? Or Ace Frehley? Or Aslan of Narnia? Or Adrian Zmed? Or Tina Yothers? Or Sigmund and The Sea Monsters? Or Elvis Costello? Or "Ming" from the ridiculous 1980 Flash Gordon movie?

I'll be honest. The bald dude bothers me and he bothers me in a way that I don't ever want to set foot in the park again... Granted, the last time I was there (in 2001), he didn't exist, so I am happy that my last trip was not tainted by this weirdo, who is probably wanted in 30 counties.

Just thinking about the fall from grace that Six Flags has endured over the years is making want to.......... It's just not the same... What happened to this once beloved park? Like all things, everything goes through a change and rides are re-tooled and re-named... Some go away. Some stay too long. Some get better with age. Some don't... And the........... Y'know what, I'm going to stop right here...

They're probably not even called Pink Things anymore.

1, 2, 3,

4, 5, 6, seven, 8, 9, 10.

What a week this has shaped up to be... I found a business card that I haven't seen since 2003 and I met 12 people that have a certain degree of dignity to them... I even shook hands with a dude that I haven't seen since 2001. Also, connecting with a cousin that I haven't seen in 6+ years was entirely rewarding... I can't wait to finally break bread with him... I'm betting that the first topic of discussion will be around the fate of his lucky left shoe that was abandoned once upon a time ago. We might even talk about how we both lost because the scratch was on the one with the wooden leg.

It's Wednesday. Yesterday was the 19th... One month later... I miss him. It doesn't feel any better...

If you had a slice of pie or a slice of chocolate cake yesterday... Or even some creamy ice cream, I hope that it was delicious and I hope that it provided the perfect compliment to your day or night. He had a sweet tooth, but only in small, supervised portions...

I'm thinking about "CW" and how one cotton lid changed everything...

As I said, what a week... Life will throw you a few surprises from time to time. It's what you do with them that will surprise people. Not sure if that adds up, but I feel like it should to someone.

Onenumberatatime, onedayatatime, oneweekatatime, oneyearatatime.

"What's the frequency, Kenneth?"

Who's Kenneth?

Bye.

Please smile. Pretty please?

bsm*

Today.

May, the 17th... Last quarter.

I would like to say that I am extremely pleased that my father is back in his home, on his chair, and next to his newspaper. Well done, Dad.

Today. This makes me happy. I'm happy...

Oh and before I forget, I'd like to thank the staff at the Benbrook Public Library. Thank you, ladies, for giving me an hour.

Don't forget to look up...

bsm*

"You can break what you have, but the rest of it's mine." - MB, Two thousand & five.

Here we are... Four months ago today, I started On My Sleeve and 30 posts later, here I sit at #31.

In the "About Me" box to your right, I stated that I would share some insight (at some point) as to who I am... Not that you would necessarily care, but it is a promise I made myself and today is the day I am making that promise come true. For me.

I guess this is the part where some people say things like: "I love animals. I like playing sports and I love reading cookbooks. I like taking pictures with my friends. I'm a proud owner of 4 different kinds of shovels... I'm in love with Brad Pitt. I only listen to faith-based music. I love poker night. Gardening at night relaxes me. Hiking, fishing, and roller skating are just a few of my hobbies. I have 2 grappling hooks. I secretly read trashy novels that are never made into movies. I love scuba diving off the coast of Florida. I hate Monday mornings... I collect butterfly stickers. I love researching salt water aquarium filtration systems. I love swimming in the lake with my dogs. Blah, blah, blah, Blah, Blah, blah, blah, blah, Blah................"

Now then... From me. To you.

CAUTION: The upcoming words and passages may shed very little light, but they just might open up a window... or three. Who knows? Please keep in mind that I'm still very green to all of this, but as the label read on the bottle last night, I will say this... This blog (or chalkboard) is 'brewed with passion for quality.' I'm still not certain how that applies, but last night it made sense. What I'm trying to say is... I have a certain passion for certain things and On My Sleeve is no exception. It's hardly perfect and I really don't know what I would compare it to... What I do know is that the previous 30 posts are here for a reason. Few and far between, I know, but I assure you that I'm trying to make some sense of something... Of it all. Whatever "it" is... In my own way. So... Thank you for reading and thank you for caring enough to visit my little corner of the classroom. It means so much...

I'm ready.

The picture above? A shipwreck sitting on the smallest of the Aran Islands chilling out in the mouth of Galway Bay on the west coast of Ireland... Inisheer. I took this picture around 10 in the morning in the month of September in 2007. I was drawn to it...

Why "on my sleeve" and why does it matter? I suppose the title doesn't matter, but when I put this thing together, it was the only title that complimented the thoughts swirling around in my tummy. Ask me what you should wear to the wedding and I will respond with... "Whatever you wear, wear it on your sleeve." Let it show, y'know? Hide in plain sight and wear it proud. Let your myth shine and let the world see you for who you are and what you represent... Your ghost, past and present. It's kind of like letting the soul live on the outside for a few... At least until the end of the show.

Benbrook? It's the place I'll always call home. It's where the fireflies always flickered the brightest... Benbrook is that single mason jar I grew up in and I'll always be grateful for the memories that were created there... To me, it's a symbol. Visit Robot Park. Watch Disney cartoons in the Benbrook Elementary Cafetorium (part cafeteria/part auditorium - you probably put that one together). Carnival Day celebrating the harvest with fire engines and hay rides and cake walks... And this is just the beginning... There is so much more to talk about here and if you can tell, I'm a bit nostalgic when it comes to Benbrook and my childhood. Speaking of nostalgia, my first post on 1/13 should explain it all...

Me? I suppose I'm just like everyone else out there and I'm probably just like you in many ways. However, I do consider myself a charter member in the fraternity of dreamers who looks at the stars as periods to the ends of promising thought. Do you feel that way? There's always room.

I'm the one who tries to see beauty in everything. I try to remember most moments as important messages on an answering machine. I'm the one who believes that life is a gift. I'm the one who appreciates the little things in life. I love watching the birds work. I like watching the rain fall. I like feeling it even more... I try to not overthink the puzzle. If I think about it too much, I could miss the point. I'm the one who feels lucky. Lucky that my heart knows more than my brain. I'm the one who believes that certain pieces of music can affect the soul like a sermon affects the mind. I'm the one who ask questions when questions are frowned upon. I'm the one who fully acknowledges that I should have been a better student. I try to work in two speeds. Stop & Go. Nothing in between.

Twelve-something years ago, I began a trade that turned into a craft that turned into an art form. At least, I treat that part of my life that way... It makes going to work for 40+ hours a week seem important. And it is important if you have high expectations. Press on. Please.

All of sudden I feel important. Right now. Go figure.

I'm the one who feels that a movie's score is just as important as the dialogue. Maybe even more important, actually. I'm the one who always wants to enter a scarecrow making contest. And I'm the one who never underestimates the power of the peanut butter & jelly sandwich. Or, for that matter, the power of the peep-toe pump. For me, a good, ugly pair of flip flops will do the trick.

I try to consider everyone as everyone gets a first chance at something... I'm a believer. From an early age, I have always tried to identify myself, not by the things I have, but by the things I believe in...

Check this... I've never represented myself as anyone without flaws. Of course, I have them and I live through them... We're all guilty of having some baker's dozen worth of flaws, I'm betting... No single person is perfect, but I'm the one who feels that there can be perfect moments. I'm also the one who believes that those perfect moments can be shared, but that most of the perfection happens when we're alone.

I have a steady relationship with the moon and I feel like I am a better person for it...

Mistakes. Mistakes for the wrong reasons. Mistakes for the right ones. Mistakes I'd make again? Sure, but only a few. I'm a person who never likes to eat alone, but I will... The oceans fascinate me and the mountains make me feel like I'm in on a secret. I'll never look at a circus clown in the face.

I'm the one was never good with "goodbye." I always feel like there is a better way to say "farewell." In my early adolescence, I learned how to walk-then-run away from things... I (sometimes) wish that I didn't learn that ill-fated skill. It was then that I also learned how to push certain things aside and just 'get on with it.'

Aert van der Neer's "Moonlit Landscape with Bridge" inside the National Gallery in DC is my favorite painting... Nothing even comes close. The word, "twilight," is one of the coolest words in the dictionary and it happens to be my favorite time of day... That time where things sit still in the grey area for 15 minutes or so... Not quite the day, not really the night... If the powers-that-be could grant me one wish, I would suggest extending the twilight of any given day by about 30 minutes. An easy 45 minutes is all I would ask for... It's perfect, especially in the autumn. Experiencing it and embracing it is a gift that I am always happy to receive. This, I can talk about for hours... Do you have the time? I'll make it if you do...

I've experienced love. I've won. I've lost. I'm winning...

Regrets? I'm human, but I try not to have them... I believe that if we are to love, it should be in the "deeply" and "madly" kind of way. No take-backs... Is there any other way? I also believe that Jeff Buckley was right. "Every time somebody tells you that they love you, that 'I love you' flies away and you wait until the next one." Personally, I believe that to be terribly special and it rings true on so many levels. To me. Take nothing for granted... I always wait, but I'm rarely patient.

The first book I read... I mean, the first book I "really" read was "Window on the Square" by Phyllis A. Whitney. It stuck with me and I'll always keep it close. Thanks, Mom.

I'm the one who will question your soul if you get nothing out listening to "The Nude" by The Catherine Wheel. I'll never apologize for that... If "Fake Plastic Trees" doesn't make you melt, you're probably not on my Christmas card list. I'm the one who appreciates Robert Browning's epic, "Fra Lippo Lippi," like a fine glass of cabernet or a delicious and proper pint of Guinness. I'm guessing that 1855 had to be a good year to be Mr. Browning. "This world's no blot for us, Nor blank; It means intensely, and means good: To find its meaning is my meat and drink." Me, too, Bob, me too.

And "Harvey."

This post scratches the surface. This post was worn on my sleeve. That's it. Me, to an extent. Is there more to say? Yes. Does anyone care? Ummm. I'll take my chances... Cheers.

I'm thinking about my dad. Big day tomorrow. I want it over.

I should shower now. It's time.

Be good to yourself. Be good to each other. Today, tomorrow. bsm*

[scrubs] #818

My relationship with this situation comedy began in 2001. It was in October when Bill Lawrence introduced me to the staff at Sacred Heart. And so it began... The perfect dance.

I honestly can't say enough about this (often) excellent show that perfected the single-camera setup style. Most sitcoms would never use such a tactic. This show, unlike most, could go from serious to ridiculous to funny to sad to uplifting in the span of 60 seconds. The balance between the comedy and the drama was always paper thin perfect as some scenes and vignettes would play with audience putting an emotional stamp on an otherwise normal comedic minute. The writing and casting touches were usually spot on as the dialogue was always quick and rich. The voice over effects added so much to the visual...

And... The music. Engaging, appropriate... Mostly perfect with only a few misfires... It was this show that put Colin Hay back where he belonged... A best-kept secret who would charm his way back to all of us... Inside the nearest CD player and next to ears, young and old. No other show would or could ever do that... I could go on here, but I won't... Saving that for another time.

The last episode (at least, for now) aired tonight and they finished their time at Sacred Heart with a touch of class that made me reflect on some of the best finales ever... So many come to mind, but this one was different. Before I knew it... It was over and the ending was less than flashy, but poignant as it prompted me to think about so many of the avenues I've walked down. It was nice.

It was so very nice... Find it. Watch it. Live it.

There's more to say, of course, and I'm sure I'll carry on about it to the next person I see... Until then, I'll reflect on why TV can be good. And yes, there is more to say... Because there is something good about network television. You just have to be patient and you have to be willing to let yourself slide...

Goodnight. bsm* (w/ a 50/50 chance)

Scholastic benchwarmers unite!

On this very day in 1994, I was asked to write 12 lines of rhyming poetry in the span of 24 minutes. This was all in preparation for a 11:30am final exam that would happen on the 12th... The feedback I received was lukewarm at best.

"All of this seems slight; maybe quickly done. It's hard for me to tell what you are trying to achieve here." - Professor Colquitt (super educated w/ thousands of hours of tenure)

The class in question? Engl 4213-035

The title in question? "1997"

01. All is well in this month of June.

02. We're sitting here staring at the moon.

03. At the stars, we hopelessly gaze...

04. Asking question about our human maze.

05. We're the future, it hardly seems.

06. Why can't our days be tiny dreams?

07. Scared? I guess it depends,

08. On how and when our time here ends...

09. Today's news is responsible for my honest thoughts.

10. It's true, one day our houses will be vacant lots.

11. The day is coming; She'll level the land.

12. Promise me, my love, you'll keep holding my hand.

It was a weak effort, I know... And Betsy was incredibly gentle in her assessment. She was always kind when it came to ripping my words to shreds. But 24 minutes seemed like a tall order and to me, it was maddening... I finished with 6 minutes to spare and promptly left the room. This much, I remember. Betsy felt that I could have worked longer to produce something better... I told her that I was hungry. She was right. I was wrong.

The last line was my favorite as the piece was built around those words. All 12 lines could have been better... When I found this earlier today, I smiled and remembered how her feedback still rings true today all these years later.

I always have a point and I felt like I had a point then... From the beginning... Lines #5, #6 & #8 give something away. At least they did then... My points will not always be clear, but the idea behind the meaning will show itself at some point. "1997" was what I called a "lollipop" piece, but I remember being so proud of the 18 minutes I spent building the sequence. Simple, yes. Silly, probably. Weak, definitely. A poet, I was never going to be... Never.

However, Professor Colquitt pushed me and her feedback always rang true. She often admitted that my ideas were lost on vacant thoughts, but she appreciated my careful treatment of said thoughts. Looking back, that particular class taught me more about myself than anything I had ever signed up for... I was grateful. I was happy to be there and she was always happy to show us something... And teach us, she did... Free thought and honest criticism. We were a small group and the feedback always went from rainbow bright to dark, polarizing debate. It was a great place to be... Never a dull moment and one class I never skipped... I couldn't...

A Texas Literary Hall of Famer... A published poet to the highest degree... Recipient of awards, large and small. A true Who's Who. A proper scholar... Professor Betsy Colquitt passed away last month.

This is my way of saying, "Thank you." I never said it enough...

- Still a benchwarmer