Deep(ish) Thoughts

Nostalgia

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I was leaving the gym this morning. I was messing with the radio trying to find something that wasn’t too “meh” when I noticed the face said DISC. Curiosity made me check what was in there. It was Metallica …and Justice for All. It’s kind of funny, but that was the first CD I ever bought when I was a kid. (you always remember your first, right?) What can I say. I was a metalhead dirtbag when I was a kid, I’m a biker now. Some might say that’s a natural progression. Don’t judge yo.



Back to the story, several years ago, my oldest got into my CDs and started listening to what was there. He, for some reason, became a fan of 80’s/90’s rock, especially Metallica. I’m not sure if he “corrupted” his younger brother, or if #2 son was just emulating big brother, but he became hooked too, and even more so. They both now have hard drives and ipods full of the music I listened to when I was their age. Did you know there is a Metallica edition of Guitar Hero? If you like any band, have someone play hours of their songs on Guitar Hero. It works kind of like Clockwork Orange.

I’m not one to dwell on the past, and there are precious few things from high school that I would ever reminisce on voluntarily. Sitting in that parking lot 2000 miles from where I grew up I realized that even after college several, moves and jobs, a family and more years than I want to share, some things go full circle. I still own a 12 year old Dodge (again, don’t judge yo), though the other one was a heap when I bought it, and this one still runs like a beast.

So as I’m blasting down the highway with the windows down and Metallica blaring from the speakers, I remembered a small sliver of my former life that made me smile a little. I even took the long way home.

Rock on.

Wish You Were Here

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We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year… – Pink Floyd

I just spent a few days diving in Key Largo. I was a late addition to the group. When I was asked if I would possibly want to go…ABSOLUTELY! It took about 10 minutes after I came home to realize I didn’t miss listening to the boys play Guitar Hero. I woke up this morning and I DID miss the Keys. There’s something about waking up able to walk 100 feet and fall in the ocean. It’s a kind of withdrawal I go through.

Why do I volunteer to chaperone long field trips, sometimes for kids that I know, but aren’t mine? Why did a motorcycle ride from Orlando to Seattle and back sound like a good idea? Why spend 2 weeks wandering around Central America for no better reason than “Why not?” What’s the alternative? Stay home. Go to work. Grow old with no stories to tell. A wise man told me on one of my excursions…

You can sit around and let your arteries harden, or you can go DO something.

…Like swim with sharks.

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So go do something, if for no better reason than you’ll have better stories to tell your grand-kids.

Rock on.