A writer looks at 30

This, my friends, has been the final summer of my life. Well, perhaps I am being a bit over dramatic; it is, in fact, the final summer of my life as a “twentysomething.”

Summer 2011 will find me basking in the glow of the summer sun at the ripe old age of…..30. Wow. Why am I not prepared? Why am I feeling so weird about this? I have had 29 years to grow accustomed to the idea that I will, someday, turn 30 and yet, here I sit, memories of high school, college, early twenties and all that still fresh within my mind. Wasn’t it just a week or two ago that I bought my first legal brew? Hmmm. I could have sworn it was……

People are freaking me out. They say that 30 is the age that maturity has to happen, that life gets real. What in the world has life been up until now? I look back on all of my (almost) 30 years and I find it hard to believe that some of that living didn’t take a certain level of maturity. And I find it extremely hard to believe that all of that living wasn’t real!

After spending a few months being scared out of my mind by the media, friends and various other lovelies, I have chosen to turn 30 in the only way that I know how: Completely happy and thankful for the fact that I have made it this far!

In that vein, I declared this summer as one of celebration in preparation for this wondrous event. True, I have dubbed it my “Last Summer as a Twentysomething,” but that name does not fully convey the reality of my intent. Yes, I am celebrating the passing of a time that I never fathomed would end. But, I am also celebrating a beginning. I have never lived a summer day as a “thirtysomething.” This will be completely new. If there is anything that you should know about me it is that I thrive on the completely new!

This summer 2010 has been amazing, one of the best of my life. Every week has brought with it a new adventure. The summer itself was anchored by life changing trips. The first to Chicago at the beginning of summer, the last to the Florida Keys at the end of summer. These two trips solidified within me many things. These trips were the perfect hello and goodbye to my final summer as a “twentysomething.”
In between those trips, life seethed about me. I felt its force in every move that I made, every word that I spoke and every road that I travelled down. This “final” summer was a resounding success!

This summer also brought me to my realization of 30.

In a few months, I begin life anew. I have an amazing relationship, a blossoming career, a perfect town to call home full of amazing people and an outlook on life that remains unchanged. I have always grabbed a hold of life and lived every second, I have always loved my existence. This fire for living that dwells inside of my being is only getting hotter. I will enter my thirties slightly changed, but for the better. I will turn 30 without fear and eager to explore the me that I will soon become.

And I will cherish every minute of it. For I know that all too soon I will be thinking “hey, didn’t I just write that column about turning 30? How am I now writing one about turning 50?” Time flies, it’s true.

To me, 30 is sexy, it is dignified, it is “young professional with a beautiful family.” Where 20 held my hopes and dreams as a young, single, traveler, 30 holds my hopes and dreams of a still young, family minded traveler. I know that my 40th birthday will find me happier than I am now, and my 50th will beat my 40th.

I am eager to meet those future “me’s.” But not so eager that I will waste my day today.

30 is fancier beer and trendy wine. I believe that I will toast to that right now. Join me? To us! And all we’ve been and yet to be!

All Summer Long!

I had made a goal some months ago that this summer would be amazing.

I am 29 years old. This summer (2010) marks my last as a "twentysomething." I wanted it to be memorable. I wanted to do things, meet people, go places and live life. Ladies and gents, I have done just that!

This summer has been the best of my life! It began a bit early, with a phone call from a friend that I had to come meet "the female you." I was intrigued, but not overly so. I had just spent a long day running around to various sites for stories and I was VERY tired. The last thing that I wanted to do was go traipsing out to one of my least favorite bars to meet a girl, especially since I was convinced that I would not be staying here in TC for very long. But, I went anyway. I am SO glad I did!

Thus began my first, and most amazing, adventure of the summer. Now, some 5 months later, I am completely in love with my soul mate. I will marry this girl, soon.

My next adventure was tailor made for me. Chicago.

When Lisa and I first met, she mentioned that in 2 months she would be going to Chicago to get a sweet tattoo. As we hung out more and more and our feelings grew at lightening speed, it became evident that she wanted me to tag along on this trip of her's to my FAVORITE city of all time. She invited me and I, obviously, said yes.

It was the most amazing few days that I have ever spent in that city. We ate great food, we drank great alcohol and beer, we wandered endlessly and I told her I loved her at the top of the Navy Pier Ferris wheel. It was the first time in my life that I ever felt the presence of true magic. We had it.

My next adventure was meeting her kids. 2 of them, 3 and 6 years old. Since that day, the time spent with them has been amazing. They are beautiful children with awesome personalities and a hunger for life I can only hope that I still possess!

Many trips to many beaches followed. Lisa and I attended plays, movies, we ate great food, we experienced this state and this region in a way that I have never been able to before. With the kids we explored the water and sand. We played all over the place, took bike rides, rode carni clunkers and ate more great food.

Then there was Key West. The ultimate end of summer trip! We have just returned from that trip, Lisa and I. It was amazing, it was fun, it was raw, energetic and it cemented our partnership forever. It was the perfect close to a perfect summer, just what I had hoped for.

From Chicago to Key West, we did it all. We exhausted our bank accounts numerous times, we were tipsy, we discovered THE BOOT, we played with fire and we were NOT burned.

I knew that this summer was going to hold something amazing for me. I never knew that the most "amazing" part of this summer would be that my lifetime with Lisa would begin.

I have done it all, it seems, this summer. And folks, the adventure has just begun. Fall is our most favorite season, road trips will abound! Winter holds my most favorite holiday. Who knows where we will end up or what we will do.

What has your summer been like? This is your last summer as a "whatever" year old, you realize that, yeah? If you have done nothing but "responsible" things, go have some fun. Responsibility is far over rated! It is necessary at times, yes, but it CAN NOT dominate your world!

When your last breath approaches, what will you look back upon and see? Starting right now, come with me, let us GUARANTEE that our remembrances will not be of hopes, dreams or opportunities missed, but of roads travelled and goals accomplished. Let our memories be of kisses in the rain, laughter at 3AM, major gasoline charges on credit cards (for road trippin'), points earned and used. Let our memories be of life, not of the lack thereof. We are here, each of us, to live, breathe and experience. This planet is so very small and our time is so very short. You can go anywhere and do anything. Get out there and play.

Holy Absent Again!

Well peeps, this summer has been insane! I must apologize profusely, once again, for my long absence!

I have moved thrice, fallen in love, experienced a rapid and wonderful form of "fatherhood" and have had many adventures along the way.

I shall return in the next day or two with fanciful stories of wonder and mayhem. Life is good! Summer is amazing! Love is perfect! I hope you all feel the same!

Chances in the Rain

Let me speak to you a bit about living.

There is a wonderful quote by a wonderful person (the name escapes me at this wonderful moment) that I have grown to love. It goes: “Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, then go out and do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” Beautiful, yeah?

Over the past three years I have routinely come to life. I asked what I needed and the answers came to me with a zeal that can only be found in such random moments as those that have decided my path. From freedom and independence to Guatemala and chicken buses, this life has lead me on some courses that I did not fully understand at first but soon decided I could never hope to live without.

Living is all about experience within a moment. Allowing a moment to carry you away, imbed itself in your memory and change the course of your life.

All too often people see these moments and shy away from them. They appear to be outside of one’s comfort zone. They seem to be too big for a normal guy or gal, too random, too obscure. For reasons too numerous to name, some will say “no” when life places an adventure within their reach. They smile politely and shake their heads, while everything within cries out for a yes.

This is complete folly, for life is made of adventure and the reason for life is to embark on as many as one can fit within their days.

Adventure does not need to be had thousands of miles from home, mind you. Adventure can be had within a moment as well. A recent random meeting, forcefully arranged through peer pressure, will illustrate my point to perfection.

I am completely spontaneous. I will go wherever and do whatever. This is a skill that has brought me much happiness, a bit of pain and more than a million amazing memories. However, even I get tired.

I recently received a phone call from a good friend on just such a tired evening. She was out and about in this fine town of ours and proceeded to begin to practice that oldest form of persuasion shared between friends, that being repetitive questioning, in an attempt to gain my company on this fantastic little evening she was having. She told me of the music, she told me of the Oberon, she told me of the crowd and then she told me of her friend.

“Brooks, you have to come out and meet the female you,” she said to me.

This, of course, stopped me in my tracks. My guard was down and she went for the kill.

“You’ll love her, she’s the one I’ve been telling you about forever,” said she.

Here comes the random moment, that moment when the right words, the right moves and the right decision will bring about an adventure the likes of which you have never known.

We met, this “female me” and I. I took her hand and she took my breath. We screamed at each other (as the music was quite loud) and discovered that, yes, we had a huge amount in common. Before the night was through we had made plans to play within the Sleeping Bear Dunes park, hiking and all that.

We did this. It was amazing. We had a second date, I could not believe it, a third, I was blown away. And thus it has continued.

I have, many times, wandered off by myself on some random Traverse City night. I would inevitably find myself on a beach or pier, gazing at the lights of downtown or the stars high above. I would know in that moment that someday I would find someone to share that amazing scene with, and it appears as though I have. Into my life, because of my “yes,” has arrived someone of whom I have always dreamt.

Saying yes to a random moment is key to life. Life happens within random deviations. Ignoring these will assure one a life full of naught but bore and storyless dinner conversation.

So, today, I write with one purpose, to get you to say yes. Say yes to whatever will make you come alive and you may soon find yourself standing in the pouring rain, holding onto an amazing creature, unable to quit the perma-grin spread across your face or the racing emotion tucked deep within your chest.

Stolen Treasure

The custom of a Guatemalan volunteer is to be as mobile as possible. Now, this is not adhered to by all volunteers. My friend Estefany was in a great little apartment during her time in Guate. The greatness of the apartment was hindered considerably by the accumulation of massive amounts of stuff, not the least strange of which was a huge “Hello Kitty” collection of knick-knacks sent by a Californian friend.

Aside from a few volunteers, like Steph, most volunteers try to keep their belongings to a suitcase or two total. The best volunteers could fit all that they owned into a large backpack (Shannon).

I became obsessed with the “no ownership” lifestyle. I was a hippie (still am), I felt that material goods brought one down, especially mentally (still do). As such, I was constantly finding reasons to dispose of this or that. The thought of the eventual flight home and the baggage that would follow weighed heavily on my psyche, so I would rid myself of things for any reason whatsoever.

MANY items of clothing found their way to the curb for Guatemalan laborers to freely grab as they walked by my abode. Every day, it seemed, I had a few items to throw out to the curb.

One fine day, my Toshiba crashed. Perhaps I helped it along a bit, we did have a severely abusive relationship, in that it would piss me off and I would beat it unmerciful. Let’s not point fingers here, it crashed, blue screen, I beat it, nothing, so I tossed it in the trash.

Now that I have been in Michigan for 5 or 6 months, I have begun a venture to place all of my random thoughts from the past 2-3 years into one folder and hopefully a book (maybe you are reading that book right now, in which case, I congratulate me). Since that journey has begun, my regret for the random tossing out of the old laptop has grown steadily.

Upon that keyboard I wrote of my thoughts and observations leading up to my move to Guatemala. Almost 30 one or two page musers were saved on that hard drive. Never again will that phaux brilliance be seen, at least not by anyone who understands those ramblings.

I am certain that the laptop made its way into the trash, but that it was almost immediately removed by the garbage men or by the Guajeros who dig through the trash at the dump, looking for items to sell or repair.

I find it rather ironic that I went to Guatemala and worked so long at helping those very people who probably took my lap top, full of idiotic phrasing, parted it out and sold it off. My one, last act of Guajero assistance better NOT have gone to buy glue!

Although, there is a completely different scenario……perhaps my laptop was found by a young girl, a bit of dreamer. Maybe this girl knew how to repair the damn thing. Maybe she did and she began to read (which is to say that in this fantasy this young girl can read and understand English). Perchance my writings, my musings, my stories inspired her. Maybe they inspired her to the point of goal setting! Perhaps she will go on to be Guatemala’s greatest and most revered author or journalist….while I wallow in obscurity.

Maybe I have left behind a piece of hardware that will inspire a young child to discover their inner muse. Maybe my laptop, tossed so carelessly aside, has become the world to some young kid. God, I hope there isn’t any porn on that thing.

Friendly Reminders

Sara McLaughlin sings a tune entitled “Little Earthquakes.”

Well, in life you will find that the very best brand of little earthquake is the one entitled “friend.”Each new friend offers us the chance to examine ourselves from a different angle, one we had never thought of before. Each person that we count as “friend” brings into our world a little earthquake, a little tidbit of knowledge that will improve our existence, whether we realize it or not.

Over the past few years I have been fortunate enough to stumble across some amazing friends along my twisted path of life. Their tidbits of knowledge have greatly improved my everyday existence. I feel that it is a bit cruel to keep their jewels away from the general public and so, from this small medium, I shall do my best to pass them along.

These are by no means the only lessons I have learned from people. Some are quite private and shall never be shared. So, if you do not see your name here and believe that it should be, perhaps you should try harder. No, I kid, there is, of course, no way I could ever hope to include all of the wonderful people that I know deserve to be included. With that knowledge, sit back and enjoy the ride.

From Shannon I have learned to enjoy every breath. No money? No problem, it costs $0 to dance. Great conversation, side splitting laughter and quiet Sunday afternoons in a packed Antigua park or on a black sand beach are also absolutely free. One can be enormously happy when one allows life to lead the way. Looking good while living in the moment is optional, but it certainly does not hurt.

From Geoff I have learned to broaden my horizons. Risks are meant to be taken, that is why they exist. Walls are meant to be climbed, doors meant to be opened and obstacles are meant to make one stronger. Also, martini glasses are meant to be empty.

From Mai Ia I have learned that the journey is the adventure. Whether one is coming or going, enjoy the ride. Life is not lived in destinations; it is lived in the experiences along the way. Also, anger is most amusing when it comes from attractive Asian women.

From Valerie I picked up a new phrase and thus a new philosophy; “bring it on.” No matter what fate tosses your way, bring it on. Being shot at by your Guatemalan Yoga instructor? Bring it on. Drowning in the ocean (almost)? Bring it on. Car breaks down in the Guatemalan wilderness? Bring it on.Living life hard and fast is the only way to live it. Life does not meander, life barrels. The only way to grab hold is to bring it on. Barry Manilow look-a-like contest? Bring it on.

From Lyndsay I have learned the value of life. Every moment is precious, cherish it, live it to the fullest, surround yourself with amazing people. I have found perfection in Riesling, the State Hospital and Lynds more times than I can remember. With amazing people come amazing experiences and breaking and entering charges (almost).

From Stephanie I have learned that there is such a thing as “the one.” A relationship works on so many different levels. Do not adhere to the norms set forth by society, do what feels right for you and it will be beautiful.And even if that time ends, it never really ends, it just continues in a different way. Also, no matter the situation, gummy bears will solve everything.

Do not discount the meaning that a new friend will bring into your life, one only recently met and experienced. Little earthquakes happen when you least expect them.

From Hannah I have learned that the opportunity to live and create an amazing story presents itself during some of the most strange moments and in some of the most odd disguises.You never know, chasing deer through a downtown suburb at 3 a.m. could really change the way you look at life in these modern times.

Stop, Look, Listen

This column appeared in the 11/08/08 issue of the Traverse City Record Eagle. I feel that it still holds a message that I and those around me need to hear on a continuous basis. Enjoy!

Many things can disrupt one's rest in the early hours of the sleepy morn. We've all experienced that annoying custom of sleep lost too soon. Any number of things can rouse us from our slumber. A barking dog, a thumping car, road construction, the sound of a tow truck loading up your car, as it seems those parking tickets have finally come to a head.

There are myriad ways that one's peaceful night of sleep could be quickly transformed into an annoying morning full of empty threats, curse words and thrashing out of bed to see what that stupid noise is.

My most recent experience with the awake-too-early phenomenon happened this very morning. Yet, it was not dog, tow truck, garbage man or annoying wanna-be rap star that disturbed my slumber. Oh no, it was a tour group.

Yes, a tour group. Those of us who have lived (me) and do live (you) in northern Michigan know what kind of fun tourists can oftentimes be, but here, in my new home, I am finding that perhaps Michigan has it easy.

I awoke to the sound of mundane chatter offset by a rather loud, theatrical tour guide. He was standing just beyond my closed front door yelling about the three volcanoes that can be seen from my door step. The active volcano, always puffing smoke, drew the most attention.

"When was the last time that it erupted?" asked one of the curious.

"Probably 30 minutes ago," answered the guide.

They lingered for what seemed like hours listening to the guide spout facts and figures about Antigua and Guatemala. The history pouring from his lips caused the group to fall silent in awe and my rage to grow with each loud, annoying, sleep-depriving word.

He spoke of colonial times, Conquistadors, when Antigua was the capital of Guatemala, of the ancient architecture and of the millions of other things that make Antigua a brilliant and living beast in the Central American world, the number one tourist, backpacker, ex-pat and escapee destination in all of Central America, in fact.

As I slammed a pillow over my head, judgment clouded by madness, I heard the guide spout one more factoid.

"What kind of people live here?" asked an inquisitive cruiser.

"Only the most special kind," answered the guide. "Living in Antigua is a blessing in this country. Antigua is heaven to most. Antigua is the place that you plan to go on vacation to and wish to live in, but never really can."

This answer made me stop and think.

I have lived in just such a place before: Traverse City. Before Traverse City, I lived and grew up in Elk Rapids, another "fantasy town." Then Suttons Bay. Now, Antigua, Guatemala.

Is life really so bad that I am justified in being angered by a night's rest disturbed on a sunny, peaceful Sunday morning by a tour group of rich white folks who have been stopped by, and are in awe of, the very view that I see every time I open my windows or step out of my front door?
I sit here, pecking away on my laptop, staring out my window. I see blue sky, wisps of white clouds, elegant clay rooftops, ancient spires and, yes, three volcanoes, one of which is spewing white smoke as I type. Life is good. Life is good for me and for millions of others throughout the world.

Through happenstance and circumstance, I now find myself living a life that most can only dream of. This Sunday morning has reminded me that there are things in this life that are overlooked.

How many times have I exited my humble abode throughout my life, annoyed by some petty thing, allowing that annoyance to blur my vision of what is real, what is important, what is right in front of me? What views have I missed? What striking orchard sunrises have seen me drive away in disgust without even a backward glance? What perfect fall scenes have been reflected off of the water, waiting for my eye to behold? What crisp and exquisite winter snows, falling amid Traverse City's Christmas decor, have I missed simply because I have been too busy or annoyed to just stop and stare? What majestic mountains have stood, illuminated by the sun, just for my eye? What have I missed in this life simply because of some stupid, arrogant, pointless emotion?
Life beckons and calls and stands pristine. Would that all of us, every inhabitant of this perfect world, could live in a place where groups of strangers stand in awe on your front step of what you see every day.

Never again will I allow anger or annoyance to cloud my field of miracles. I will behold life in all that it is for as long as I have eyes that see. Here's hoping the same for you. I'll see you soon on my front step.

Open Letter To The Universe

Dear Eternity;

I have walked a million paths, it seems. I have tread a billion miles. My eyes have beheld the glories of this Earth. I have seen the engines of our planet create land anew.......I have beheld birth and death in all their glory and love, heartbreak and tears.......I have brought happiness......I have brought pain........I have begun and I have finished........I have taught and I have learned........life has given me the sight of the traveller. I use that sight now.

Eternity, I know that many come to you asking for riches and fame, wealth and status, notoriety and marketability. I do not. I come to you with a simple request for this tiny speck that I have, known as "Legacy." I ask that you grant me the time, the wisdom and the opportunity to create.

Eternity, I wish to be a force upon this rock. I know the hurt and I know the pain that fill many within this cycle. I have seen the tears that flow for reasons of which many could never hope to conceive. I have seen pointless loss at the hands of starvation, disease and evil. I have felt the sting of Karma and I am ready to reply.

Allow me to use the tools that I possess to bring about change within this world. The opportunity lies there in my path, a slight deviation into the darkness. Eternity, I wish to take that lesser path. I wish to banish the thoughts of self preservation and grab hold of the self that preserves others.

I feel the need within our kind and I know that I am more than capable of joining those who wish to fill the needs that plague our people. Allow me the time to create hope for the hopeless, to satiate the hungry, to free the oppressed and to carry the burden for those no longer strong enough. My opportunity has come. I wish to disappear into this Earth, leaving only love and happiness behind.

Eternity, I do not wish fame or fortune...............I simply wish for love.........please do not force me down a path that takes me away from the hurt, the pain, the downtrod. For in their faces, Eternity, I have found the face of God.

Lesson Learned

Throughout my existence upon this rock I have learned many a thing. Tin foil and microwaves make for a great show (as long as it is someone else’s microwave), commercials ruin everything, the human condition is fascinating, etc. Recently, life’s little lessons have been popping up to remind me that this whole breathing thing is a gift and should be exploited to its maximum potential. What follows are two of my many memorable lessons.

Chicago is a city that has played witness to my antics many times over the years. No matter my destination, when the trip is made with a group of people, I am always sure to set aside one day during the excursion to spend exploring what I want to explore, doing what I want to do. This day is known as a “Brooks Day,” and it is lovely in my eyes. During one such “Brooks Day” a few years ago, I decided to explore the buildings, people and culture of that which surrounds Chicago’s famed Water Tower. My wanderings soon found me in a high rise enjoying the views from a glass elevator. After riding the elevator to the upper most reaches of its range, I began the decent. About two floors from the top, the elevator stopped to let some very classy gentlemen aboard. Being an outgoing beast, I could not help but ask the slightly elderly gent of the three where on earth he had purchased such a fantastic suit. We commenced on a very pleasant conversation, one in which the gentleman handed me the card of the tailor who had made the “$12,000” suit. The talk was beyond pleasant, my day was brightened by the experience and the goodbye handshake was accompanied by a shoulder grab, big smile and a “pleasure to meet you, young man.” A few days after our return from Chicago, the FBI made what was advertised as a “crippling bust” of Chicago Outfit mafia heads. There, on the Tribune’s front page, was the man that I had ridden an elevator with. The pleasant grandfatherly figure was a supposed lifetime hood who had risen through the ranks of the Outfit and was sitting pretty near the top. Lesson? One never knows who will be crossing your path. The impact that crossing may have could reach far beyond that initial meeting.

On one of my many times leading a tour through Safe Passage’s sites I found myself wandering through Safe Passage’s main project building. As I talked and did the usual backward walk, to maintain eye contact with my charges, I found myself suddenly whipped around and being pulled into an empty classroom by one of Safe Passage’s social workers. I was able to spit out a quick “BeRightBack!” before we disappeared into the quiet room. She began with trying to keep me calm. “Oh my God, Brooks, we might die. I need you to come with me next door!” And so, wondering why I was being pulled away from the relative safety of the project building to deal with a situation in which a normally calm and collected social worker just blurted out “…we might die,” I was pulled down the hall and through the front door into the narrow street beyond. We soon found ourselves in the strangely abandoned comador next to Safe Passage’s building. Three men waited for us at a table in the center of this outdoor cafeteria. They were obviously MS-13 gang members. MS-13 is an extremely violent gang that controls some parts of Guatemala City. I had dealt with them before in my capacity as a tall, bald, white dude who oftentimes wanders through their neighborhoods and found them to be a lot like normal Guatemalans, except with many tattoos. However, I had never seen this sort of set up. And so, with that fact in mind, my exact thought was “Yup, I suppose we are about to die.” However, the meeting turned out to be a friendly chat about how grateful the neighborhood was to Safe Passage for taking care of their children. Lesson? Never judge a book by its cover. The situation that one may find themselves in may seem bleak, but in the end, it may be one of the most empowering, satisfying experiences of your life. Where else can a white Traverse City kid have a heart to heart with a Latino gang banger?

Yes, life has brought me many lessons over my 28 years; “there is no better therapy than Hawaiian Tropic and the beach,” “One’s adrenaline will run out if one rides too many roller coasters” and “Yes, one person can change the world.”

Life will lead you down paths that will make you question life’s sanity. Yet, do not hesitate to follow. Do not prioritize the hum-drum or the supposed “responsibility” over the experience. “Responsibility” is over rated anyhow. Who’s to say that it is more responsible to live one’s life in a cubicle, on a phone or behind a window or wall if one does not love that life? Is it not more responsible to do what you love? Living is an experience, never say no to it. Soon, you too will find that life has given you a fascinating set of stories to attach morals to. Consider Frank Sinatra: “Live every day as if it were your last, ‘cause sooner or later, you’re gonna be right!”

Read more musings from Brooks Vanderbush at greymatterconcertos.blogspot.com.

Dreaming the Inconvienence

Last night I flew.

I hovered above a cliff’s edge, the ground below me green with grass and beige with stone. My legs extended below me, my arms outstretched comfortably on either side, I gazed over the cliff’s edge. Hundreds of feet below, the land cascaded out as far as the eye could see. Rivers disappeared into forests, hills rolled over meadows and birds danced above the treetops.

In the air I hung, having just glided to this point, elated by my long lost “flying” skill. Here at this cliff’s edge, however, I hesitated. Yes, it seemed as though the skill to fly had suddenly returned to me, but would it carry me out over this new expanse? There was but only one way to find out, my friends. And so, as my heart raced, my adrenaline pumped and my fear turned to sheer glee, I pushed through the sea of air and sailed out over the edge.

The crisp, clean air filled my lungs, the sun energized my every cell. I felt everything, magnified by the pure exhilaration of self propelled flight. Much like that red and blue caped God, I soared over the vast breadth of the land. Birds of the air and beasts of the plains looked to me as I chased the sun across the sky.

Then I stopped and, purposefully, I fell. The feeling of freefall embraced me as I tumbled through the heavens. Excitement exploded through my every atom and in that moment, I felt life.

Thus was my dream. Thus is my life.

For many a night I dreamed of flying. If a dream became a bore or I felt the urge, I simply ran, jumped and, just before face planting into the earth, I flew. I would soar high above my dreamscapes, escaping all that they had to offer, engaging in my own pattern of dreams, setting my own mark.

A soul must be free to soar, you see, or that soul will languish. My soul was bound by routine and the never ending doldrums of a waking world. So, in my dreams, it flew. Once life mirrored these dreams, the flying became intense, until, one day, in my waking life I had flown so high that I no longer needed the escape of a fantasy dreamscape. I lived a life so full of adventure, love, laughter, tears and pain that I had made being awake the dream, the escape.

It appears as though the time is drawing near to regain the altitude in my waking life so that I no longer need a world to escape to within my dreams.

To that end, I will be leaving. Not right away, mind you, but soon. I will spend the summer months playing in this sunny paradise that I now inhabit, as I do so love it here. But, come October, this man will fly. I will gain myself a truck, some form of road trip machine (such as a Four Runner or Land Cruiser) and I will drive this great land of ours. I will trip to locations that I have never seen in this US of A and then I shall venture south, very south. I shall take my hippie road trip machine and venture into Mexico, Guatemala, Belize, etcetera etcetera etcetera! I shall write, I shall video and I SHALL LIVE!!!

This entire adventure will be documented here, on this very blog. It will also be documented in (hopefully) numerous newspapers and magazines as well as some video doc site. My hope is to survive off of my writing income, settle somewhere in Latin America and continue this life that has caused my waking life to be the dream and my dreaming life the inconvenience.

Three hours of hard time

This column appears in the January 10 issue of the Grand Traverse Insider.

The New Year is upon us! Many people believe in signs and omens. Such people would take the event that happened to me barely one week into the New Year and state that my year was cursed beyond all recovery. I, thankfully, am not one of those people.

This monthly outlet has been full of many things since it first graced the pages of this newspaper. I could continue in that vein, I could write of the three day New Year party that I wandered around with, I could write of recent trips to some of Michigan’s fascinating cities and the adventures held within. I could, but I won’t. Mostly because I have been violated. (Note to Editor, please tell people that was a joke)

I was in our lovely downtown TC last night. I am in need of new shoes, so I had just checked out the stock at Golden Shoes. I returned to my car as I had a meeting with a friend at The Catch. I pulled out, drove a block and was pulled over for failing to turn on my headlights (downtown is bright, afterall, I didn’t even notice). After sitting for about 10 minutes as the officer (a perfectly cordial individual) failed to make the return trip to my window to scold me and send me on my way, I thought maybe something might be wrong. Before long, I was seated in the back of the cruiser, handcuffed, convinced that something must be wrong.

That something was a suspended license.Long story short: Driver’s Responsibility fees, there not just for drunk drivers anymore! Oh no, they’re now for people like me, who do a friend a favor and allow them to borrow my much more capable vehicle whilst I borrow their less capable one only to be pulled over for 3 year old tags and then find that the vehicle is not insured. Lovely.

Apparently it is the policy of the State to send out notices that one’s license is suspended only when they feel like it. It is also the policy of the State to victimize their law abiding citizens by squeezing every penny out of every mishap that they can to make up for their own self inflicted budget short falls. Everyone has seen medieval movies, when the Lords are short on play money, Prince John ups the levies, right? Yeah.

Anyway, having already paid all of the fees for the Driver’s Responsibility Law (last Fall) I thought that I was in the clear. Having just spent a year and a half living in Guatemala, I suppose that the culture shock of my return numbed my brain to the possibility that I might need to visit the Secretary of State.

Thus began my three hours of hard time. (Another joke there)Officers and Corrections officials alike were flabbergasted that this situation had landed me in the spot I inhabited for three hours last night. The joking was plentiful, never at my expense and actually very funny! The typical questions from other hardened detainees made me think of changing my story.

"Whatch ya in fer?"

"Murder......three people.........all pro wrestlers. That’s right, I’m hard-core, pass it around."

I found our Grand Traverse County Jail to be nothing like what one sees on TV. The officers were willing to banter and friendly besides. The actual prisoners seemed resigned to their fate, having accepted that, yeah, this might be my fault. No riots were raging, no chiseled pretty boys with tattooed maps were hatching escape plots and no one gave me a soap on a rope.

I sat on a bench in a public area for a while, answered some questions, paid some money, shared some laughs and went on my way. Lesson learned, never trust the State.

I am no longer suspended, I am free and clear to drive! And drive I will, right to the capital, where I will protest heartily for the right to go out to dinner, get pulled over and NOT go to jail for a crime that was never a crime in the first place.

Maybe I should retract that last bit, they might suspend my writer’s license next.

Time and Such and Things

Oh how the world does change...........

Could any of us have predicted where we would be now if we were asked to one year ago? Two? I know that I could not. Not so long ago I was engaged, living in the house that I see out of my bedroom window right now. Not so long ago, my life had a direction that neither thrilled me nor excited my senses. I lived a life of predictability. I lived over there, blind to all that was happening around me. Blind to the pain in this world and the pain in that house. No longer.

I know the pain in the world, I have felt its touch and I have felt the joy that accompanies the act of repairing that pain. I now lie here in a bed that I never thought I would ever inhabit. I gaze out of the window and see the sidewalk I walked so cluelessly down so many times. I see a home that once housed a good friend, now void of any acquaintance of mine. That friend now calls Thailand temporary home.

Memories come fast and thick in this town. Memories of time wasted and time exalted. When sitting on that porch, a mere 50 yards away, life seemed so simple, so normal, so out of reach.

I now continue my recovery from a moment well lived, a moment grasped and exhausted. I begin now my search for the next grand adventure, the next moment to be sapped of all of its lovely life. I shall remain in this spontaneous limbo for a few months more, but life's tug has begun already. Come with me, it says in my ear. Your's is not to remain here in this time and place, your's is to disappear, to explore, to challenge the norm and the unjust, to bring a smile to the downtrod and, in doing so, touch the face of God.

Within the fold of those who choose to serve, those like me, I found a kinship unlike any other I have ever known. I found a passion for life so raw, so full of gusto, so full of unbridled carelessness for tomorrow as to not be believed. Living within the moment is the stuff of this life. Causing each moment to count a bit more than the last, causing one's life to count in that of others, there is the stuff of dreams!

If I could but change the world of someone else a few more times, I would be happy. The feeling of giving, the feeling of LIVING whilst giving, is one that intoxicates and renews. I shall chase that high from now until forever. Come what may.

My little solo experiment, by the way, was a smashing success. Solo play, my friends, is also the stuff of fun and living!