I am a creature of habit. I can't just start something in the middle and keep going. This blog, for instance. I should have started writing again months ago. Alas, I put it off until my birthday. That would be the beginning of a new year. That would be a good place to start over. That would be a good plan... if my birthday weren’t three days ago.
Argh!
So here I am. 37 years old. I am a father to two wonderful children and the lucky man to have Julie as my wife. And yet, do I have anything to say? Do I have any profundities to share with the world? I doubt it.
But I want to get back into writing this thing. Even if it's just to air my thoughts. I know, I know. This is the digital age and every damn person under the sun has his or her own blog. And I know there are better written blogs out there. But what the hell. I've learned that I have a few readers. And damn it, I need to please them, even if it's just once or twice a week.
So Jan, Phil, Cindy, Steve and Julie, here I am, putting myself out there again and hoping I can connect with you.
Let me start off with Aaron Copland.
My birthday was Wednesday night. We had dinner and cake. I received some wonderful gifts. At this point in my life, birthdays are more about the kids than me. Man, Sophie and Jake were so excited for me, it was a little overwhelming. After the great meal Julie prepared and the cake and ice cream, the kids took their bath. So, I put on Copland's "Appalachian Spring" for the first time in, like, six years. The second those strings and clarinets began tears were forming. It was so beautiful.
And it's not the type of music that makes you think, "Oh I love this girl". It's the type of music that sends you on a journey reflecting on the good and bad fortunes in your life. 2 seconds, that's all it took to rush me into a vortex of love for my kids. Those beautiful, loving children of ours. So much heart. I am one of those fathers who wants to wrap my arms around them and protect them forever. I can't fathom how you can bring a child into this world and not feel anything but love.
Anyway, "Appalachian Spring" is more than that quiet moment. It is one of the most majestic works I have ever heard. Listening to it makes me want to be better. A better man. A better husband. A better father.
It was a good place to start mentally on my 37th birthday. This has been one of those years in which my birthday just kind of happened. I can't remember a time when I wasn't so unenthusiastic about my birthday. I LOVE birthdays. And yet, here I was, just kind of going through the motions. In years past, I've taken the time to reflect on my life in the past year. Where I've been. Where I want to go. Am I disappointed with my life? Professionally, I would say yes. I thought I would be writing full time by now. I wanted to be that big Hollywood screenwriter.
But life doesn't work that way, does it?
Nope. It doesn't.
It's been several hours since I began this entry and in that time, I've come to realize that all of this navel gazing is fine for your birthday, but it doesn't need to last a lifetime.
So let's get on with it Malchus. Get back to the damn blog. Get those feelings out there and maybe you won't feel so compressed all the time.
That's all for today.
Aloha.
Argh!
So here I am. 37 years old. I am a father to two wonderful children and the lucky man to have Julie as my wife. And yet, do I have anything to say? Do I have any profundities to share with the world? I doubt it.
But I want to get back into writing this thing. Even if it's just to air my thoughts. I know, I know. This is the digital age and every damn person under the sun has his or her own blog. And I know there are better written blogs out there. But what the hell. I've learned that I have a few readers. And damn it, I need to please them, even if it's just once or twice a week.
So Jan, Phil, Cindy, Steve and Julie, here I am, putting myself out there again and hoping I can connect with you.
Let me start off with Aaron Copland.
My birthday was Wednesday night. We had dinner and cake. I received some wonderful gifts. At this point in my life, birthdays are more about the kids than me. Man, Sophie and Jake were so excited for me, it was a little overwhelming. After the great meal Julie prepared and the cake and ice cream, the kids took their bath. So, I put on Copland's "Appalachian Spring" for the first time in, like, six years. The second those strings and clarinets began tears were forming. It was so beautiful.
And it's not the type of music that makes you think, "Oh I love this girl". It's the type of music that sends you on a journey reflecting on the good and bad fortunes in your life. 2 seconds, that's all it took to rush me into a vortex of love for my kids. Those beautiful, loving children of ours. So much heart. I am one of those fathers who wants to wrap my arms around them and protect them forever. I can't fathom how you can bring a child into this world and not feel anything but love.
Anyway, "Appalachian Spring" is more than that quiet moment. It is one of the most majestic works I have ever heard. Listening to it makes me want to be better. A better man. A better husband. A better father.
It was a good place to start mentally on my 37th birthday. This has been one of those years in which my birthday just kind of happened. I can't remember a time when I wasn't so unenthusiastic about my birthday. I LOVE birthdays. And yet, here I was, just kind of going through the motions. In years past, I've taken the time to reflect on my life in the past year. Where I've been. Where I want to go. Am I disappointed with my life? Professionally, I would say yes. I thought I would be writing full time by now. I wanted to be that big Hollywood screenwriter.
But life doesn't work that way, does it?
Nope. It doesn't.
It's been several hours since I began this entry and in that time, I've come to realize that all of this navel gazing is fine for your birthday, but it doesn't need to last a lifetime.
So let's get on with it Malchus. Get back to the damn blog. Get those feelings out there and maybe you won't feel so compressed all the time.
That's all for today.
Aloha.
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