I have never seen the movie Miracle. You know, the one with Kurt Russell? I understand if you want to turn me over to the Midwest Thought Police and watch with glee as they revoke my license to be Minnesotan and send me off to a reeducation camp. I have no excuse aside from my excuse for everything—I was too lazy to make an effort to find it, rent it, pirate it, or read the synopsis on IMDB about it. If finding the path of least resistance had been an event at the Winter Games in Lake Placid instead of ice hockey, you better believe I would have ended up on a box of Wheaties and the subject of a Disney major motion picture.
I don’t really know the best way to help you understand the miracle of my having played hockey as a kid. I’ve thought about this for several minutes just now, and there’s no time to cover the scope of it—to track and turn into an infographic the precise alignment of all the unlikely planets it took to make it happen would exhaust and kill me. But let me try. Briefly. Continue reading
Lennon and McCartney weren’t the only ones who wanted a revolution—to change the world. I do believe that more people are in favor of a better world for others than are against it. Are those people generally in charge? I don’t know. The evidence isn’t often encouraging. But sweeping change is possible—the words “the revolution is at hand” seem to have been born on our lips. We revolve. The French did it. Americans did it. Industry did it. Doors at fancy hotels do it. And of course, the Russians did it. Continue reading
It feels wrong to say silly things in the wake of a tragedy.
A family member had grown too tired from her bouts in the ring with depression, and it took her life. It’s hard to know what to say, really.
This isn’t about me at all, though I understand the exhaustion of depression and maybe you do, too. When a young person commits suicide, people often say things like “they had so much life ahead of them.” But the same can be said of people of any age—there is more life ahead of us. Around the corner from sadness is possibly a little joy, or at least a little relief.
That was the seed of this journal, after all; I wanted to experience and document some tangles with joy while I’m around. I hope we all do more to take care of ourselves.
And I’ll get back to it, but right now it’s more important to give pause.
Also, the kids next door had written this in sidewalk chalk, and I walk over it every day. It’s a good thing to try to remember, if you can. And it’s a good thing to tell people when you feel it about them.
I love my Mom and Dad, my brother, my sister, my aunts, uncles, cousins, and the people who aren’t related to me but have felt like kith and kin.
If you were to stack the hours end to end that I spent playing Nintendo as a kid, it would reach the moon and back eleven and one half times. And I don’t mean our moon. I mean Europa, the icy moon of Jupiter. Continue reading