The Beautiful Sound of Waves

I was asked to write this, (without much to say). People are moved by your majestically worded blogging wonders?! No, they’re just bored in warehouses and the rats stopped being entertaining.

Ratatouille where are youuuu?!

Not much of a fan of the animated film. That’s right, I don’t enjoy watching A Toy Story. I also don’t care much for cheese. Or bacon. Even Kevin. Although put me in a room with The Lion King, or Finding Nemo, or Pete’s Dragon and I’m like a rat stuck to a glue trap.

Two items stem from this previous statement: One: Pete’s Dragon; though only partially animated, it counts because it should count, is my feel good movie galore. How my sisters and I ever even ended up watching a half live action, half animated movie from the 70s starring Mickey Rooney, an animated dragon and unidentifiable broadway people is beyond me. It probably has something to do with Angela Lansbury. 

Note: Land Before Time and Bed Knobs and Broomsticks: What do these have in common you ask? My sister liked them, and as the youngest I got the bottom backwash of a shared can of coke and whatever movies my sisters wanted to watch. Land Before Time? Excellent choice. Bed Knobs and Broomsticks? I’d rather watch Murder She Wrote…

And two: Don’t use glue traps. I once used a glue trap and did you know mice scream? Because they do. And it is a heart wrenching noise, particularly when 1. You have cute little fuzzy ferrets, like overgrown mice that poop in a box, that attracted them in the first place and 2. You can’t do a damn thing to help them. You can’t free them from the glue. So what do you do? Throw the mouse, glue trap and all, in a shoebox – in a garbage bag – in the back yard. Also, the smell of rotting mice in your kitchen is gross. Also, when a potential landlord tells you the front door of the house is “over 100 years old”, while that may be interesting tidbit, read it as: 100 years ago people didn’t worry about drafts and holes mice can get in. Also: Old plumbing. Old  plumbing that falls through you kitchen ceiling. I digress, having since moved. 

Did this strike you as a free write yet? 

This past weekend I went to Savannah on another free trip. (<3) I learned that when the option is available and you are the slightest bit wavering, ALWAYS stay the extra day – and figure the rest out later. In life, there will never be enough days off; take them anyway and deal with it later. The story is always better when you stay for one more drink.

“Always stay for one more drink”, says Joe Odem in “Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil”, which I decided to start reading the day before visiting the infamous Mercer House in downtown Savannah this past weekend. That’s when the stories start; when you pull back on being responsible, say “motherfuck it” and take the time to live a little – even if you don’t have the time off. Luckily, the next day, I unwillingly forced myself to go on a training run Monday night. Unintentionally, my run spanned sunset. It was beautiful and I didn’t want it to end. So in addition to staying a little after when you “should” leave, I learned to do the things you know you should do – and told yourself you would - but don’t want to; it ends up a beautiful sunset.

Also, during the trip, I found myself caught up in moments and idiosyncrasies and appreciating things moments after the fact. I learned I need to slow down, back up and breathe it in. There is a lot of shit going on in life, mine and yours and even Oprah’s, and it’s easier to let the whistling of someone’s breathing get to you than ignore what’s not perfect, but it is oh so stupid to focus on that when the beautiful sound of waves is crashing just behind it.

Besides, Pete's Dragon will always be there...just in case it goes awry.