dover down

I'm here in Dover, Deleware, home of this f-ing big airplane. It's huge, I've seen it, up close, big. one time it crashed here. not to far from where pops lives.

So I'm visiting pops and lady here for a few days before heading down to the colombian district for some family time. So far I've seen the sights, which included the beast to the left, and I marshalled a golf tournament. I was so marshalicious today that they gave me a tote bag full of tampons, wet wipes and sunscreen. The golf tournament was a part of my pops work. He works for a company that makes all of that stuff. His company just got bought out by a company that is the drumming bunny, not the copper top. For those of you who know my family history you will know it is time to start praying. for those of you who don't, companies have a tendency to buy out the companies my dad works for. This is usually followed with a large residential/occupational change. We're hoping this is not the case this time. So anyhoo, we golfed today and much talk was given to the bunny transition. It is always interesting to see my dad in work mode. He's Good. He's not good at golf. I've never tried. I don't think I will.

And From Here on Out

Tomorrow we will relax, Kayak and hit the deleware beaches. And on Saturday I celebrate births and anniversaries in VA; Me, my grandma, and sis and her hubby. On Sunday I head to "the lake" with said sis and hubby to hang, along with niece and nephew. I am so looking forward to niece and nephew. the are the sweetest darn people in the world, and I love them and miss them with every little bit of myself I can muster up. I just love the little people. Momma gets Monday and Tuesday, ending the week with some sweet motherly love.

Weekend update w/ KCS

The relations, as j likes to call them, were in town this weekend, and kid's were abundant. K decided that she will never have kids, and I decided that that scares me more then the thought of having them. I had good times playing with the 4 year old. Kids are so much fun, especially when they like you, and they aren't whining. People say the whining and crying isn't so bad when its your kids. But that just sounds like a bunch of BS. If I ever convince Lady k to crouch drop a baby or two, then our baby's will be super happy and will always like me. The four year old thinks Long Beach is the coolest place in the world. It has a beach and a whole bunch of big boats that just sit around out there. And the waves don't hurt.

I finished a long way down. I really enjoyed the writing, but then I got to the end and realized there wasn't much of a story. When I closed the book, i felt nothing. I think I prefer to feel something at the end of a book. When I close a book I like to feel like I've just been through something and come out on the other end feeling new. Like my world has been changed. Atleast for those couple seconds before you get up outta your seat and start doing the dishes or something. With all that said I think I liked it. I'm not sure why yet though, because of the whole closed book feeling I just discussed. I'll have to get back to you.

Beaster

I'm in Boston. I like it, but it is cold. We've only been here two days. We seem to have accomplished a lot. We arrived at 6:30 (eastern) in the morning yesterday, slept until 10, went to the aquarium with bro and not-sis-in-law, walked around the north side, had espresso and conoli at an Italian cafe, came back to bro's house, napped until dinner, socialized, went to communist bar, bed, sleep, up, church, God's word read in intimidating Boston accent, He is Risen, went to Harvard, ate with John Harvard, hiked, bought discounted Easter candy/ice cream, ate, drank, am merry. and now...K is reading, I am not-writing a paper, I am blogging, I am hating that it has become a verb "to blog". K probably thinks I am being very successful on my writing because of the many tap-tappy noises coming from the keyboard. Happy Easter!

Sunday

Another weekend come and gone

6 more days till boston, brother, and beer. I look forward to getting more familiar with all.

My dad and not-mom came for a visit and we had joyous times.

An old roommate stopped by and I was reminded of good old days. another old roommate did not stop by. I thought this was because he lived in Virginia. This, however, was wrong. It is because he lives in Illinois. I need to call this ex-roommate and discover things about him. He does not blog right now, therefore, these necessary discoveries require the ancient art of direct, intentional communication.

That is all for now. You have a holy week

The Mississippi Rio West and the Mouse of Light

to move is to be alive, a decision acted upon and thus a recognition of existance. Now that I am one with another, I can justify these yearnings with finacial matters and future ventures, but this is not why I move. I have always had a hard time with the physical "home." (I speak conceptually here.) Perhaps this is why I move, I am seeking this physical "home". The hindus have a sacred sound pronounce "om." It is the infinite, representing Brahman and the entire universe...(my brain made a connection there but I don't feel like explaining it) More likely, though, I think I just get bored. I have always become bored with my surroundings. Hindsight has left me wishing I hadn't grown so bored sometimes (i.e. the halfway to whittier transition). When friends continued the party into whittier, I moved into the hellhole. These "what if's" and "what could have been's" seem such a vicious spiral. I tend to spend very little time indulging them. which leads me to the memories out of which my choices have scripted; The billy porch where we came to know each other; visits from matt; Fountain Valley and a friend named hickey, (whom I just found out has become a father); Long Beach, Billy, Dan and of course my lady. As much as I would have loved to have been apart of the defining moments in much of my friends lives, I can't help but be satisfied with the choices I've made. If there was a word that meant sad/happy I would write it here now to describe this feeling. Perhaps the french have such a word.
my home now, is in my lady, and I pray this never bores me. If you think this a horrible thing to say, forgive me. I have always looked up to my father, related with him and thus, thought myself like him. Then one day he up and divorced his wife. He say's he never really loved her. I can only hope this to be true, because I love my lady like no other. But having grown up in that house, it can be sometimes hard to reconcile.
...so here I am packing yet again, with hopes of meeting one more year of memorable satisfaction.
cheesy? yes, but I've got a few in me, so kiss off!
If your reading this blog and care about these words then I'm sure I feel the same and hope and need more time with you in the future.

Love,
Keith

I'm listening to hospital beds. I wish I had written it. of course if I had, it would probably involve fishy's on the wall and other images of cartoon see life. That would not be cool. I'm glad I did not write. I would have liked to listen to it in my hospital bed.

update
I went to Ohio for a wedding. I met the lady of my fathers dreams. She is nice. With only 2 days that's all I got for ya. Pop and her are big fans of the speaker phone, so I'm sure I'll get to know her via the tely.

K and I drove up to the great state of Oregan for a bit of vacation. We would like to relocate our bodys and things up there.

Second Marriage or Papa's gotta brand new babe

oxymoron? Apparently not.

Most of the year my family is thousands miles away. Unfortunately, this can be mentally as well. About once a year we collide and before I realize my place, I'm on a plane back to the left coast.

Next Saturday is Aug. 5th and my dad will be re-married. August 5th, quite the round number. 20 days shy of the 27th anniversary of my family completion. With me being the youngest, this also means 20 days shy of my 27th anniversary of birth. Perhaps this is just a clever, perhaps not so clever, way of tying my birth and my fathers re-marriage, my collage of august. (I'll be going to Oregon as well on a splendid driving vacation.) Or maybe I just want all to know that my birthday is coming up. Saturday is the wedding, Friday I meet the bride. Brother and Sister have already met her and I've been told to expect the unexpected.

Three things I know:
1. She's blonde
2. She smokes
3. She's independent/free thinker
if I may quote ye ole primetime puppetry, "not da mamma"

Sister pointed out something interesting. Father is having a large house built in a yuppie new England town. Mother is struggling to find 2 bedroom condos in her price range.

I used to think alimony was a crock. That was back when it didn't matter. That was back before mother got screwed.

These thought have run dry.

I've been reading Entering into the Heart of Jesus: Meditations on the Indwelling Trinity in St. John's Gospel. It's by George A Maloney. It's a book I've read often, but never all the way through. I usually pick it up when I have not been reading, and am feeling convicted. I pick it up and say, "this time, I will finish."
A quote from the book quoting St. John Chrysostom:

And to show the love He has for us He has made it possible for those who desire, not merely to look upon Him, but even to touch Him and to consume Him and to fix their teeth in His flesh and to be commingled with Him; in short, to fulfill all their love. Let us, then, come back from the table like lions breathing out fire, thus becoming terrifying to the Devil and remaining mindful of our Head and the love which he has shown us. (I like that last part.)

My mom used to say something about how much she loved me or how cute I was and follow it up with, "I could just eat you up!" This would then be followed by numerous wet kisses all over the face of a squirmy little boy. At the time, I found it very annoying, and drew no more conclusions about it. These days I think I understand a little better, for, every once in a while I have to a strange desire, when contemplating my love for lady k, to bite her. Love and appetite. The Eucharist. Love is consuming and consumption.

My parents gave me this book. It had meant so much to both of them. For my mother I think it was the comforting thoughts of God's invitation into "the triune community of love." For my father it explained the Trinity in a way that finally made sense to him. He felt such relief in comprehending. I guess the clover thing never did it for him.

My parents are divorced now, and have been for a couple of years, and separated for a few years more. I remember when I found out they were separated. They were living in two different states, so I probably should have gotten a clue. But it was disguised a very long moving process. The night my mom called I was with two friends Hamilton and Parker. Parker is now Bryant, but that is neither here nor there. Or is it? I guess an argument could be made for here being Bryant and there being Parker. But this argument would only occur in my own head, and therefore would most likely remain unresovled, as perhaps it should. Hamilton broke his "I'm not drinking alcohol" phase for me and we all drank red wine! It was good to have friends near.

Mom got a new job and is moving out of Augusta, GA and up to DC, close to her grandchildren. She starts this week. Dad got promoted to Vice President of US Manufacturing for _______(insert maker of feminine products and baby stuff), just got engaged to his new lady friend and is moving to Dover, Delaware where he will be closer to his grandchildren. I am predicting lot's of grandchildren being eaten up. Hamilton has moved to Idaho and is buying a house. Parker is now Bryant and teaches freshman English.

in the air

Christmas, it has that air about it. I'm sure it's different for everyone. That familiar feeling, memories, family tradition, whatever. You know what I'm saying. For me it starts with home, plaid couches, older siblings and tacky stockings filled with apples, oranges and school supplies. I think that last time I really had this out side of memories was my freshman or sophmore year of college, going "home" to Georgia. It was my parents home, the plaid couches were still there, and I could always count on the tacky stocking. But These last few years have been a bit lost for me. Parental complications have led to an even greater confusion into where to call home. I found myself feeling like an observer in other peoples christmas's. So as christmas creeps around again, I am reminded of this thinning air, of what christmas once was to me. It's a little sad. But then I look at my wife, our tree, our fake garland sprawled over the cd shelf, and the lights in our home. I can't wait to get started on our own familiar feelings. It's cheesy, I know...but frankly, I don't give damn. Merry Christmas!

Since November 16th I've been having headaches, at least once a day. They usually occur in the morning, which makes for a rude awakening. Some are more bearable then others. The pain is percise, starting in my right temple and shooting through the back of my eye. This morning they woke me at a little before 5:00. After a horrible few sleepless hours our alarm went off. I called in sick, took so tylenol pm, curled up on the couch, cried, tossed and turned and fell asleep an hour later. I woke up about 12:00 feeling like a bad hangover. so I guess I'm feeling better. I wish these words were exagerations.

never the less, Friends and family make holidays happy
Thanksgiving was grand.

I'm watching koce, channel 12. It's public television. But tonight it's The Kennedy Center Presents " the 2005 Mark Twain Prize," a salute to Steve Martin. I like him. The Kennedy Center reminds me of my family, living not to far from it. When I visit, it is often around christmas when the center wraps itself in a giant red bow. I have a niece and a nephew not to far from it and I miss them. I also have a cousin. I remember years ago, when she was about 7 or 8, we went to see the nutcracker at the Kennedy Center. It was wrapped in a giant red bow. My cousin, samantha, the 8 year old, explained the whole story to me as we watched the ballet. Normally I would not have enjoyed a ballet at this stage in my life. I enjoyed it. She's a genius. I miss her too. I have no stories for my niece or nephew. I guess I just don't know them well enough. One is three the other 1. Those who live close to family, I envy you. and now back to Steve.

time upon a once...

I painted this for my brother when I was just a wee lad. We were "dead heads". He was, at least. I was just anything he was. One time he took me to a Bob Weir show. I think it was in VA beach and the name had something to do with strawberries. It was so cool! We smoked and and jiggled our bodies. We got jiggy with it. When we left people were passing out balloons. My brother was so excited. I had no idea he still liked balloons.

When I was in late elementary/middle school I painted. When I painted nobody got real christmas presents from me. mom would take me down to the frame shop and we'd clamp two plates of glass together. I think it was the cheapest frame. I don't paint anymore and my walls are bare, so if you do... Christmas is coming. You don't even have to frame it.

genius part 2

Dr. Sneid was my 8th grade math teacher. He was a dentist, who got tired of teeth and decided to teach. He loved my brother, my brother loved math. Dr Sneid loved to tell stories to the class about how smart my brother was. I loved to hear them. That year I decieded that I liked math. Meanwhile, my bro was getting bored in calculus. The next year I moved to California and my brother went to some smart school in upstate New York on a smart scholorship. As math got harder, I decided I didn't like it any more. ...Still like my brother though. And secretly, in some ways, I still want to be like him.