Treatise of the Unguarded Treasure

THE FINALE — [UNABRIDGED]

11 September 2010 ~ The Awakening

 "Oh! That my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awak'ning till the beam...I have been happy—tho' but in a dream. I have been happy—and I love this theme..." 

~Edgar Allan Poe

***

"Second to the right..."

When life's eternal flame of passion collides with the off season wind of chance, when the aging colors of one transient dream dissipate into the vibrant life of another, when blurred visions of an uncertain future become treasured memories of a fond but distant past, when fortune lands at my feet and gives me the wings to fly, when unmeasured life expands before me like the sweeping stroke of an artist's brush upon a canvas of vacant hope, and when my dreams have lifted me to the highest cloud in the heavens where no horizon exists, the melancholic veracity of my existential transience suddenly locks both of my feet back firmly to the ground. 

With an earthly bound mechanical intonation suddenly buzzing nearby, I quickly and unconsciously roll over in bed to hit the snooze button, and immediately bury myself back beneath the blankets desperate to rejoin the world from which I was just suddenly snatched.  To my utter despondency, I realize in that instant, it was all just a dream.  The time is 0320, and my serfdom to my friends, family, employer, and for that matter, the world, is re-commissioned for yet another day. 

***

Have you ever had a dream that seemed so real, so much so that you could see everything in bright vivid colors, smell the delicate scent of nature, feel the soft gentle breeze as it caressed your skin and played faintly with your hair, taste the cherry-flavored balm from his warm lips, and hear your name being called by the last one who loved you?  Dreams marshal the enchanting and mystifying elements of the dark and distant night; from the pit of the deepest well of our emotions, they evoke our heavily veiled passions, desires, pleasures, regrets, sorrows, losses, and loves.  Through their obscure nature, they remind us how to smile, laugh and love again; they remind us of significant people and periods throughout this great journey.  In essence, they remind us how to hope, how to aspire and how to shimmer among a sea of faces, and they renew in us the desire to reach far beyond our grasp for what we want most dearly.

***

TIN MAN

I realize the poetic treatise above will not make much sense to most anyone, but for the very few in my life who know the man behind mask, then they will see a reflection of the illustration I have painted.  Friends and family have always told me that when I write, I do so in complex terms, terms in which any reader might be able to extract something that could apply to their understanding.  Although, meticulous I am when composing any piece, it’s not necessarily a conscientious effort on my part to be enigmatic.  However, there are topics in which I have a very difficult time unveiling in simple terms, and my writings, which provide an abbreviated refuge, are typically in response to some element in life that triggered my intrigue or affected me emotionally.  I realize that in person I can be (and tend to be) more upfront and open on an array of subjects; however, I become a different person when I sit down to write and the two Nathan’s—the artist and the clown—do not live congruently or synchronously.  The person with whom friends, family and colleagues interact will rarely be the author of my work.

For the better part of my life I’ve been a dreamer, a theorist and a writer, and I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up.  I firmly believe that some people experience more in life—be it good or bad—for the benefit of others, so they can interpret it and hopefully enlighten others and maybe raise their awareness and appreciation for their life and the people in it.  Usually, these are your artists; God finds use for everyone and in these people he taxes their gifts of expression and insight through keen interpretation.  Through my own experiences, I’ve learned that the ones who bring laughter and joy to the world, surreptitiously suffer the most heartbreaks, set backs and disappointments in life.  It's through laughter and humility that I’ve learned to masquerade the fragile boy who still lives beneath the shadows of the crusted, hardened shell that is today.

Most everyone I’ve met in my life has told me that I am very difficult to figure out and get to know, perhaps in part because of the multiple ways in which I communicate—in person versus in writing—but, much like a painter expresses himself by arranging various colors on a canvas, I have always hoped that my writings would impart to others the kind of man I really am, the kind of man that has blossomed far beneath the jaded and charismatic façade, and the kind of man I someday hope to share completely with someone else.  My various works throughout the last 18 (+) years—including this blog, which I started after my brother was killed three years ago—have been a failed endeavor to let others into my heart and mind to know my struggles, to help carry my burdens, to understand my logic, to feel my pain, to see my perspective, to take my steps, to experience my valor, to believe in me, to hold my hand, to laugh with me, to cry with me, to love me, and to share my dreams.

I struggle with this because, while I want to belong, most people in my life don’t know or are oblivious to my passions in life.  Unlike with an artist or musician, who can more easily engage others and share with them their heart and soul by enchanting people into their world, it is difficult to share written works with others because they have to juggle distractions to find the time and the desire to want to read.  Of all the gifts to have, I feel cursed; not only am I very shy and alone in this world, but I have the one gift that is most difficult to share with others and to drag me out of my world.  Most people think I’m nothing more than insensitive, hollow-minded, a sarcastic clown, uneducated, cheap, careless, thoughtless, selfish, prudish, vindictive, spiteful, self-centered, and a sexist pig.  Those are just a few things I’ve been told within the last year.

Because of some very difficult hurdles in my life, which tally more defeats than victories, I’ve learned that quite often the momentum that propels me can also destroy me.  I’ve missed out on a great deal of things in life because, on my difficult climb up the hill, I’ve always looked out to the horizon and rarely down in the valley.  In lay parlance, I’ve spent my entire life more or less overlooking what’s currently within my reach, and instead always fighting and aspiring for something greater, the next step in life, the next best thing, and as my reward, I’m left now old and alone.  Perhaps my defeats would not be a fait accompli if only I could stop dreaming.  I know in my heart-of-hearts that even though I’ve failed many times, at least I tried, and someday that will make all the difference.  Live not to regret.

Long before I hardened into a jaded spade, and despite the delusive promise of conquering my ambitions and bringing my dreams to fruition, I’ve always taken the undiscovered path in life because of the smallest seed of hope.  Rarely have I taken the road that pledged the most complacency and offered the least disappointment.  Instead; however, I inherently take in life the path with the greatest probability of heartbreak and the least chance of success, because I know that without taking the risk there would be little or no recompense.  Imagine for a moment the risk you may take when you like someone but if you never reach out to that person then you would never know his or her feelings.  Sure, you might be hurt if rejected, but imagine the enchanting moment when that person embraces you within their arms when you least expect it.  That is one such reward that makes it worthy of taking the path less traveled by.  There’s nothing wrong with a decision of the heart as long as you know it can satisfy the soul.

***

IN THE INTERIM

Without really realizing it, it’s been exactly a year since my last entry was posted.  I posted the entry toward the end of a very tumultuous period of my life, having months prior ended a 4-year relationship and having faced many subsequent tremendous challenges—some still unknown to many in my life—that taxed me spiritually, physically, mentally and certainly emotionally.  From all sides, I felt my moribund, corporeal core caving in on me.  To make matters worse, I’m pretty much alone in this world.  With ailing parents who live very far away, a mother who once disowned and continually denounces me for who I am, and select friends who only include me in their lives when there’s nothing better going on for them, or drops plans (unannounced) with me when something better comes up last minute.

Although it’s extremely rare that I reach out to anyone for help, I’ve got no one really to count on if I get sick, have another “heart scare,” need to vent or want advice, help around the house, or need anything for that matter.  It’s not for a lack of trying!  I’ve reached out more times than I can recall, and I’ve helped countless friends and family when they were sick, low-spirited and needed a friend, wanted a good laugh or two, needed anything, but as soon as they were well and back on their feet, they have been incapable of looking back to the stepping stool.  This has been a vicious cycle for far too long and I’m too exhausted to continue that game.  Despite having been alone for much of my life, I think I’ve learned to manage quite well and I've learned that regardless of what is thrown at me, I have no choice but to persevere and remain stoic.  If anything, it’s only made me a tougher person and able to combat most anything that is thrown my way.  Conversely, it has also hardened me to be averse toward showing vulnerabilities and allowing into my life prospective others.  I’ve faced and overcome many barriers in my life, but last year was…one to be remembered.

In the time since my last blog entry, I finished school, unceremoniously I might add.  I was really looking forward to graduating, especially considering that I had spent the last 3 years working and going to school full time simultaneously, so I was very exhausted at the end of it and ready for a huge celebration.  However, I was reminded that one’s achievements in life are not necessarily worthy of celebration in the eyes of others.  Needless to say, it never happened.  Despite that, I treated myself and bought an electronic Baby Grand piano!  It’s been my lifelong dream of learning to play the guitar and especially the piano; however, even as a small child it can be rather difficult tickling the ivory from the backseat of the car—I mean, the “house.”  Growing up in a very poor family—at one point living in a car—simply made it impossible to take piano lessons, but I am happy to report I’ve now been taking lessons for a few months and enjoying every bit of it!  This is one such dream that is coming true, day-by-day, and on my terms.

It took me several weeks to compose the last entry that I posted, and it was a very difficult decision, even then, to reveal as much as I did.  Soon after posting it, and embarking on the needed journey, I received a few emails and messages from long-time friends who expressed their sincere love and support.  To those very few—you know who you are—I can’t even begin to express what your kind words meant to me.

Virgin Islands!

During the past year, I’ve fulfilled most everything that I set out to accomplish.  I spent a great deal of time alone, here in my house way out in the suburbs of D.C., but I also met some wonderful and enjoyable new friends and got the opportunity to see to some exquisite places, including the Virgin Islands’ Caribbean Blue waters!  A few of my goals were to learn to be more tactful with others, learn to be less critical of myself, be more expressive of my concern for others in my life, and ultimately to reach a point where I am deserving of mutual love and companionship.

I’ve spent the past year trying to re-find myself, my place in life, and how I can best contributed and make a positive difference in the world.  These are mysteries I’ve spent my life pondering but with the shakeup of 2009, I really needed to delve further into this grand expedition and to do so, I had to devote nearly my entire focus on this soul-searching voyage of discovery.  Although, I feel that some of my objectives were accomplished, I am still struggling with the one that perpetually keeps me sleeping alone at night and sharing my heart with no one.  Given the events throughout my adult life, and with special consideration given to the emotional turmoil of last year, my longtime belief was confirmed and the decree has since been reaffirmed.  As far as companionship and love go, the Tin Man remains incompatible with anyone.

***

THE END OF THE RAINBOW

I’ve had many dreams in my life that have come true, including serving in the Air Force, living in “real” Germany, living in Chicago, learning to play the piano (still a work in progress), seeing as much of the world as possible, being the first in my entire family to earn a college degree, moving to D.C. (or close enough) and sharing my life with someone.  I’ve also lived to see that when some dreams come true, they inadvertently turn into nightmares and it becomes an everyday struggle to awaken!

One of the most mesmerizing moments of my life happened within this past year when a friend and I took a trip to NYC just a couple weeks before Christmas.  It was analogous to living a scene from a postcard or a Hallmark film.  It was freezing cold and it started snowing heavily toward the late afternoon; it was the first snowfall of the season!  Rockefeller Center was lit up in an ornate holiday fashion: Ice skaters soaring gleefully past one another, cheerful visitors carrying an umbrella in one hand and a camera in the other, all trying to capture the best snapshots of the enormously decorated twin-peaked Christmas tree, and holiday music playing from almost every street corner.  I had never been to NYC during the holidays.  It was absolutely gorgeous, like living a dream within a dream. 

NYC, Christmas '09

Rockefeller Center, Christmas '09

The delicate theme for this finale is indeed about dreams, because they are indeed the treasure we leave unguarded!  Metaphorically speaking, a good dream is just that, but when it comes to fruition, you then have found the coveted end of the rainbow!  I’ve been blessed many times in my life to have found the rainbow’s end; however, the brilliant hues of the portentous arc in the sky has dissipated and the past 6 years have left me feeling disenchanted and abandoned by my dreams and now, like Peter Pan, I must awaken and venture to find my own path outside of Neverland.  But when the skies are dark and lit with stars, I will still remember the way back: “Second to the right, and straight on till morning.”

***

JOURNEY’S END

There is a primary philosophy I’ve carried with me in everything I write and I think Joseph Pulitzer said it best: 

“Put it to them briefly, so they will read it; clearly so they will appreciate it; picturesquely, so they will remember it; and above all, accurately, so they will be guided by its light.”

Although the “Journal of my Journey” is coming to an end, the Journey is not complete.  For more than 18 years I’ve been writing short stories, poems, songs, an editorial (2 volumes, 31 Mar 2000 – 26 Sept 2002), a couple of eulogies, an unpublished novel and when my brother died I began this journal on 20 Sept 2007, primarily to maintain my sanity but eventually it ripened into carrying the torch of my Faithful Comrade series, perhaps as an unceremonious third volume.  I feel its purpose has expired and the sun has set on the audience.  I must once again turn my focus to the uncertainty of the unknown road ahead and to focus better on that path, I need to write the final page in this Journal.  (Please see the poem below, as it is the embodiment of this Finale.)

One thing in life is always certain: When one phase comes to an end, there is soon to follow the inaugural of another, and I just pray that I am summoned to embark on that great journey!

I sincerely thank you for allowing me a little bit of your time every now and then to open my heart and share my thoughts.  It has been my great joy to bring this to you over the last three years but now the time has come to turn the page and move on to fulfill the next great dream.  In closing out this, the second major series of my life, I’d like to offer Puck’s final words from A Midsummer Night’s Dream:  

“If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended, that you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear, and this weak and idol theme, no more yielding but a dream…”

I’m signing off with this final thought: Somewhere, beyond the reach of man, painted in the stars and pellucid only to our dreams, are the answers to all the perplexing and convoluting riddles of life to which we perpetually succumb.

Invictus (Unconquered)

William Ernest Henley

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

The ‘Journal’ ends here but the Journey of Dreams continues…

Farewell,

Nathanael S. Key

(PS: Comments are always welcome…and if anyone knows how I can get a good writing gig, let me know!)

How Close We Came

11 September 2009 ~ Misguided Opulence

If ever in life you find yourself standing too closely all you see are the infinitesimal dots, but from afar these miraculous fine points comprise the greater picture that is our adjoined lives.

***

Every once in a while a person succumbs to certain experiences, good and bad, that conspire to amend their perception, behavior and perhaps destiny. I always believed that only good things would come to those with a good heart and truly honorable intentions; likewise, bad things would come to those with purely malicious objectives. Many of my faults are patently obvious, and while confessions offer me no reprieve for reprehensible acts, I’ve lived a life with only the best intentions for those closest in my life, but most everyone has always been misapprehended, perhaps by my sardonic and untamed tongue. I’ve also been accused of committing unforgivable encroachments, violations of trust and friendship in which I did not do; however, certain people continue to this day believing I am capable such horrendous things. Seeking vindication has not come without cost.

Earlier this year, I felt the need to step back for awhile in order to assess my life and how I can learn to be a better person, more understanding, more patient, perhaps more tactful, and better with expressing concern for others so that my actions are not always misinterpreted and so that one day I am deserving of mutual love and companionship. However, before I could embark on this journey, I was distracted for awhile but now with school finished and the other distraction completely self-removed from my life, I feel now compelled and inspired to do what is best.

Ultimately, I need to learn not to hold others to the same stringent expectations I have for myself, and not to be disappointed when those closest to me cannot meet my overly high expectations. In fact, perhaps part of this process is for me to assess every influential factor in my life. [...]

In the end, possibly months from now when I re-emerge, I hope to be a better person but this also means that some people and factors can no longer be a part of my life. I can’t say right now because clearly I do not know but I am certain that when I am finished, I will no longer stress over the people who have hurt me or violated my trust. They simply will not be a part of my life and I will be a better, stronger, happier and more optimistic person because of it.

I’ve spent a life having nothing but compassion for others and trying to help others, even those individuals who have hurt me, I’ve still reached out to them because I firmly believe in “what goes around, comes around” as well as the “Golden Rule.” That’s not to say that I’m perfect, because I certainly have said and done things that I’m not proud of, and in fact quite embarrassed. Through it all, I learned years ago to accept my own humility and not be afraid to show it. I’ve also spent my life always trying to be better than myself – if that makes sense. Always being over critical of myself and being an overachiever has bestowed upon me many curses and blessings, the sum of which equal fewer friends by day and alone by night. Yes, I have pushed many people out of my life, sometimes inadvertently and sometimes purposefully because of infractions I felt violated the terms of a strong companionship.

Sometimes it’s easier to move on in life when you don’t have elements from the past standing as obstacles in front of you. Sometimes, we need to keep certain elements in our lives to serve as reminders for any variety of things: how close we came to mental breakdown, how close we came to giving up (or how we achieved) life-long goals and longtime friends, how close we came to meeting the Maker, how close we came to mirroring one’s faults, how close we came to forging fiction for fact, how close we came to the perfect bond, how close we came to losing sight of the virtues that build strong character, how close we came to tying the knot, how close we came to crossing the line of loyalty, how close we came to forgetting the truth, how close we came to despair, and how close we came to finding the end of the rainbow.


Until then…
~NK~

The Road Not Taken
Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Damned is the Fool

18 June 2009 ~ Reverse the Tides

The Clock ticks half past ten as the eleventh hour is rolling in; the time has come to face the crossroads and choose a path that hopefully will accommodate the needs of everyone involved. Otherwise, I’m just acting egoistically and the consequences of my decision will likely not even benefit me, much less anyone else. As I stand before the crossroads, I know that regardless of the path I choose, I’m damned either way.

I originally wrote this introduction awhile back, long before I knew when it would be posted, and back before the options were more evident, but now the decision has been made…only history will tell if I am damned.

The past six months or so have been very demanding and stressful. I got to looking at my blog entries and realized I’ve only had 2 in the past year! Actually, I had something to post back in March of this year but decided against it because I didn’t have many nice things to say at the time and any venting I would have posted could have burned some nice solid bridges. The past few months have been very frustrating, emotionally draining, extremely confusing and somehow inspiring at times… Odd, huh, that inspiring be mixed along with the rest, perhaps because I know that at the end of it all, with or without the long-sought treasure, my scarred and battered heart will limp out once more from underneath the black ash and heavy rubble.

Somehow, at the sunset of a long relationship, and through a series of difficult circumstances, I found myself standing on the opposite side of another’s strong affection but was too blind and bitter to accept the end of one journey and begin traveling blissfully on another. All the road signs were there for everyone else to see and maybe I did but was somehow blinded from the truth by other things in life. That happens to us all from time to time; we lose sight of things that are important to us and inadvertently hurt other people involved.

I’m by far not a perfect creature; I love satirical humor and my warped mind is a lampoon that always sees life through some sort of adult-sideshow kaleidoscope. Despite all my flaws and jaded exterior, I do have a heart and, despite the beatings and abuse it has taken, it does have an abundance of love and forgiveness to offer. The sad part is that my heart is surrounded by sharp thorns and thick brush, which is a major disadvantage for me and anyone with whom I wish to share my life – no one can get past it and I struggle to dig through it and by the time I do, it’s always too late. And because of it, I feel forever conquered by circumstance and perpetually fettered.

There’s nothing worse than to find yourself standing on the other side of one’s inner circle of close affection, and wanting more than anything to be at the epicenter of their heart again, the sparkle in their eye, their last thought at night and the first in the morning, and to be somewhere mixed in all the dreams there in the middle. The most difficult challenge in moving forward is reassembling the pieces of an inadequate heart, knowing that quite possibly gone are the wonderful days of loving again.

Sometimes loving someone simply isn't enough to sustain the tides of tribulation and other times it is. Sometimes life has to be much more complicated than what we are prepared to handle. Sometimes life is unforgiving and we are never granted a second chance at love and happiness, much less a second chance with a particular person. A person’s feelings are very fragile and I have always understood that a person can fall out of love just as easily as they fell in, and somewhere deep down in the pit of my stomach I cling on to the hope that, when the tides calm, the process is reversible.

***

On to other subjects… I am happy that only 10 weeks now separate me from the end of my final class! With just two classes to go, I’m really getting excited! It’s hard not to lose focus and just bolt for the finish line, but I’ve worked too hard to keep up my grades so I’ll just grin and bear it out for a couple more months.

My graduation ceremony is on 11 October 2009 at Constitution Hall. Don’t be afraid to email and ask for my mailing address; I accept all forms of payment, even PayPal! Ha-ha!

Three years of going to school full-time (whilst working full-time of course) has left me with little time to stay caught up with things around the house. I’m not sure exactly what I’ll do when I’m finished with school and no longer have that ever-burdening feeling that I should be in front of the computer doing homework every night instead of out and about living life.

Maybe I’ll finally finish shredding a large pile of papers covering the floor in my office upstairs. Maybe I’ll finally clean out the cat litter! I may go buck wild and walk the dog! Or better, maybe I’ll finally take out the trash and do the dishes! Who knows, I might even get around to changing the sheets on my bed and washing the laundry; God knows I haven’t had a clean pair of socks in 3 years. (Doing laundry is SO much cheaper than buying new clothes every week!) What the hell! I might even consider shaving and getting these damn birds out of my beard! Better yet, I’ll let my hair down and have a bit of Crown and Coke….of course that would depend on all the OTHER things above being done first! Ha-ha! Or I may just throw a kick-ass party.

Either way, whatever I decide to do, and with whomever I decide to do it, it’s going to be fun!


(PS: Comments are always welcome.)

Until next time…
~NK~

Two Hearts Divided

18 December 2008 ~ A Gift Long-awaited

[DISCLAIMER: post contains serious satire infractions so readers beware!]
Another December is upon us; another year of watching the value of our home drop FAR below what we paid for it just a couple years ago; another year of dreaming to win the lottery and facing the nightmare that is DC traffic; another year of juggling work with a fulltime school schedule and now added to that so many other obligations that forever seem to conspire against me to drain every grain of sand that remains in my hourglass; and another year of watching some dreams disperse into thin air while others vanquish through the darkness of the long, long journey.

This year has afforded many opportunities and blessings in disguise. If you think about it, when was the last time a blessing was not in disguise? We always say that, but what does it really mean? Have blessings nothing else better to do than knock on the door disguised like little demons from around the neighborhood on Halloween?

The Christmas Spirit seems to be hovering just north of the Arctic Ocean this year, because I can guarantee she is nowhere near DC. People are impatient and drive like today is the last day on earth to get to the store and save $5 on some ridiculous sale item. And all these damn holiday songs playing on the radio all sing about the same smurfed up crap: shopping, greed (“what I want for Christmas”), and ultimately being materialistic. Okay, so maybe I like to have a few nice things in life. I am very grateful that I can afford to have the things in life that I may want or need; however, it’s this time of year I’m reminded that others are not and it really saddens me.

Every year Nate and I usually buy gifts for the Toys for Tots program (for the less fortunate kids, much like my brother and me were growing up) and we also donate coats and other winter items that we're not going to use. Helping less fortunate families is a very noble thing to do, but let’s face it: We’re no St. Grace! We do it because secretly deep down we want to earn extra credit with the man upstairs, so that maybe---juuuuuust maybe---he will someday reward our good deeds with the Mega Million Jackpot and we can fly this crazy coup straight the hell out of here.

Our church has a large Christmas tree standing alone in the distance corner of the main atrium; the tree is plain, absent of any decorations except that it has small tags of white paper hanging by string from each branch, much the same way as would an ornament. On each tag is the name of a small child (from the first trimester up to 6 years of age) and gift ideas (toys and clothes).

What Nate doesn’t know is that hanging from one of the tree’s plastic limbs is a tag with my name on it, and the gift ideas included new Kenneth Cole shoes, a Banana Republic gift card, a Best Buy gift card, 14k White Gold ring complimented with large red emerald, and at least $50 worth of scratch-offs from the Virginia Lottery. Anyway as I digress, each gift is recommended to be between $25 and $50; so far we've taken 6 names off the tree and hopefully someone grabbed mine. As adults we can better control what comes our way and how to respond or react to it, but as children they cannot.

I remember growing up and being poor and doing without many times. Imagine for a moment how difficult it was decorating for the holidays given the circumstances: going to the trunk and dragging out all the traditional decorations, fumbling with the ever-entangled lights to hang outside around the home, going into the woods to hack down a tree (suddenly I’m a regular Paul Bunyan), and dragging it back home…Honestly, I don’t think anyone reading this has a clue how difficult it was decorating a 7.5 foot evergreen in the front seat of a car. Yes, living in a car definitely had its advantages and disadvantages. Instead of Santa coming to us, we could just drive over and meet him at somebody's house. It was usually hard to explain why, at 2 in the morning, my brother and I would be caught in our matching Wonder Woman Underoos standing by the fireplace in the middle of some stranger’s living room. It was even harder to explain why mom would be parked out front with the car running, yelling, “C’mon boys, get your presents and let’s go. We gotta get home.”

[*** In all honesty, my mom really struggled and worked hard as a single mother raising two boys. She may have disowned me years ago for being who I am, but I will always love her and thank her for working as hard as she did to raise us to respect others and always be grateful for what we have in life. The truthful rendition of this story was published in my editorial The Faithful Comrade, 8 Dec 2000. ***]

All joking aside, I honestly do believe that it is important to pay it forward to those who are less fortunate. When I was growing up, I remember mom facing the challenge of trying to keep her two boys happy, but we all faced the reality that times were hard. Eight long years ago, I wrote in a holiday issue of the Faithful Comrade and expressed just how hard those times were. Shortly before my brother came back home permanently to live with us, my mom and I lived alone in a 15x75 singlewide mobile home, or as they call it in the Midwest “Death in a Tin Can.”

We went to the local drugstore and picked up a 3-foot Christmas tree, complete with 20 mini-ornaments, and a strand of 10 multicolored miniature lights. As a young kid I cannot tell you how many times I rearranged the elements on the tree trying to get this Charlie Brown-like specimen to look as nice and full as it did at the end of the classic cartoon when all the kids came over to decorate it. Soon after Christmas each year, I learned (or was reminded) that Santa shopped at the Goodwill for my clothes. How do I know, you ask? Well, let’s just say that other kids in school would recognize their old clothes on my back. That was the disadvantage of living in a small town. Another disadvantage: the Goodwill was located on the town’s main street, near the center of the town square and by the only functioning traffic light; naturally the light was always red when I had to go in or come out of the Goodwill. Every time we had to go there, I would leap from light pole to light pole, ducking behind each bush and shrub, trying desperately to sneak in and out of the store as inconspicuously as possible.
[Pictured above, my older brother (d. 23 Aug 2007) and my mom, his Birthday - 20 Dec. 1982]

Growing up poor has given me a great appreciation for the abundance of “goodies” I have now in my life. Although I may have been blessed to have a successful adult life, I cannot forget my roots. It’s for that very reason that it breaks my heart to know there are children out there who are growing up in the same conditions as was I. Who knows how their lives will develop? They may get lucky and find a ride out of their small-ass one-horse town, as did I, and begin their ascension from the forgotten and oft neglected shadows of society to the never forgotten and high-taxed life of middle class America. To them, I say welcome to Northern Virginia.

Anyway, that's the bitter old man coming out in me; the point being that Christmas, and even Chanukah, have just become too commercialized. We need to get back to our roots and remember what—or who—is important in our lives. The real Christmas Spirit should not be about giving expensive gifts, as in going out and racking up credit card debt just to buy someone’s affection or confidence in knowing they are valued in your life.

Perhaps the holiday spirit should be more about offering forgiveness over inane infractions, rekindling affronted friendships and making friends anew, cooking, dancing, relaxing, and anything else merrily typical in the Court of King Friday in the far-away Neighborhood of Make-Believe. Find the little red trolley, with its gentle accompanying piano music, and follow it to the center of your dreams where all things are possible…or to the liquor cabinet where, too, all things become possible.

Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, God Bless!

(PS: Comments are always welcome.)

Until next time…
NK

The Fortune Cookie

12 June 2008 ~ Two For the Price of One

(Updated)
2:46 AM crept in the midnight air while the promise of another blistering hot-ass day tomorrow lingers in the early summer morning dew. Just moments ago, I found myself tossing and turning for reasons I couldn’t quite put my finger on until it hit me, just as it had so many times in the past when I used to write for the fulfillment of my own desires and not that of others (i.e. school, work, or the sick pervs who appreciate new poems on the men’s restroom wall).

I lay in bed a little while longer questioning the real need to get up at this hour just to peck away at the keyboard jotting down my random thoughts, but as I lay there, still wide awake, more thoughts began flowing fluidly through my mind about all the things about which I could write. I struggled then and even up until now on how best to start, because quite honestly I always like to have a nice introduction to catch my reader’s attention (note singular again) and hopefully carry them through to the end. Alas, I had no good, clear introduction other than to explain why in the hell I’m up at this hour in the first place.

***

With the big tomato scare going around the country right now, I was a little freaked out when, after ordering in twice in the past week, I remembered I had eaten their tomatoes. Then this week, just a day or two afterward, I started feeling the aches and general nausea. On Tuesday of the week, I awoke at my normal time of 3AM, and felt about 50% of my usual stamina, but I knew I had to make the long commute into work because I had to set up a few things for my students and their instructor, who would be briefing form an offsite location. I was barely there mentally and felt like I was not far from meeting my maker. Eventually I got everything set up then headed home. Not longer after I got home, I discovered my temperature was 104.9F (isn't the "F" more or less understood in American culture? God forbid someone misinterpreted it as Celsius...) and I started taking Advil to bring it down. Don’t get me wrong, fevers are good because that’s the body’s mass production of white blood cells to fight the infection or illness, but fevers over 102 typically are not safe!

Anyway to make a long story short, my temp continued to reach the 104 range and it was a bit scary because I hadn’t seen my body temp rise that high since 2001 when I had a severe case of food poisoning. Fortunately, my doctor called in some meds for me and Nate went to pick them up and one of our neighbors was the pharmacist working that night. She recommended I take Tylenol and Advil every few hours to keep the fever low and it worked! It worked until I went to bed, then the damn thing crept in again and I began shivering around 3AM. We all know what the shivers mean: it means that our body heat is so damn high but for some dumb reason we feel cold! HOW ODD?! Nate awoke around 4:30AM and checked my temp; wouldn’t you know it was 104.7 again.

I swallowed some more pills and eventually the fever subsided to a safe 102 and eventually the mercury returned to the shadows of the 98-degree mark. People have always said that you fry brain cells when your temp is above 104 degrees, which brings me to me to my next point, the real reason why I couldn’t sleep and needed to write.

***

Life is too short not to enjoy who you are or who you were designed to be. I am who I was designed to be. I’m a smartass as best, I tend to have a mind that isn’t quite as clean as a baby’s unused diaper, I frequently interpret life around me as humorously as possible by twisting the morbid details of our infinitesimal existence to make them funnier and I do this primarily to make others’ life more enjoyable and bearable.

Every once in a while, someone comes along and reminds me that I should not be doing this; that I am in the wrong; that I talk too much or too loudly and that my jokes and style of humor is not appreciated. Naturally this hurts my feelings because while I do enjoying making others laugh, the greater reward is generating laughter from others.

With that said, I have this final thought to add: I’ve got much on my plate right now between a fulltime work and school schedule, my position as president of the board of directors for our HOA and other obligations. Last year I was dealt a tough blow when my older brother was killed and then a month later his unborn baby died. Now, my 17 year old half-brother was recently diagnosed with cancer (noted in my last blog), so to all those out there who still don’t like (or cannot handle) my style of humor, I think I’m holding up pretty well to keep up my front and if you “can’t hang” then I would recommend you find the door upon which you entered my life and don’t let it hit you in the butt on the way out. I have changed enough for people in my life but I refuse to lose my own self-identity anymore than I have already.

***

Actually (and to end on a lighter note), I wanted to post in last Sunday when the most amazing thing happened. Nate and I stopped by to visit the new Wegman’s supermarket that opened that same day and boy was it a madhouse! As far as the eye could see, there were hundreds of cars and millions of people from all around. I thought they were just giving away free food! After spending an hour trying to make our way into the parking lot and then searching for a parking space, we finally made our way into this colossal supermarket that I had always heard so much about over the years. Having not eaten yet, we decided to grab a bite to eat once we got inside; now this isn’t like your typical supermarket with the standard deli area. Quite the opposite indeed. This place has several restaurants and deli shops from which to choose, and eventually after perusing the many varieties, I opted for Chinese and he elected the same.

We took our plates upstairs and sat at a small table just near the balcony overlooking the center atrium and from the opposite end of the room was a small live string quartet, consisting of a cello, a base and two violins. Hey! If I’m wrong about the music then who’s going to tell? This is my blog and I’ll remember it the way I WANT. :)

Anyway, after we ate our Chinese, then we were left only with the two fortune cookies sitting lonely on the table, just staring at us as if to ask, “Well, aren’t you going to devour me too much like you just did our distant cousins?” So I handed Nate the two cookies and he put them behind his back, mixed them up and then asked, “Which hand?” I picked the right hand, so he handed me that cookie and he took the other (obviously, because that’s the way this dumb game works).

He ate his cookie then read his fortune, and I began eating mine and reached for the fortune only quickly to realize I was reaching for not one but two slips of paper. “How odd,” I thought but still I didn’t say anything to Nate. Instead I asked for him to read his fortune after which I proceeded to read the first of mine and waited for his response, then I said, “Oh wait, let me read my second one now.” We both laughed and were just stunned in amazement because neither of us has ever seen one with two fortunes.

What’s more, both of these fortunes that I received seemed to provide comfort and answers to the many prayers and burdens that have been really heavy on my heart lately. In fact, I’ve been struggling very much with some of the matter and although I tend to maintain an incredulous view on fortune cookies, as they are purely a novelty item, I still found it amazing actually to receive these two messages. Usually fortunes cookies today are not true “fortune” cookies but mere statements taken directly from Captain Obvious’ Stardate Log, such as “The sun will rise today and provide warmth over a cool sea.”

Before opening our fortune cookies, we actually joked about what ours would say.

Mine read:

1. Your are a traveler at heart. There will be many journeys. (Yes the typo was there….maybe it’s an indication I’m traveling back to a foreign country!)
2. A golden egg of opportunity falls into your lap this month.

...If only this could possibly mean the Mega Million Jackpot prize was well within my grasp I'd rest a little easier tonight!

Until next time…
NK

A Wild and Distant Shore

4 June 2008 ~ Lost and Found

It has been far too long since my last entry and I really have no excuse other than to say that I have been busy. Every time I had intended to set aside time to write, or every time I was truly inspired and felt compelled to jot down the current happenings, something of greater importance would always steal the moment.

Since 4 December, Nate and I celebrated our third anniversary on 31 December, but don’t get too excited. This past New Year’s Eve was nothing to write home about! Regardless of how many attempts we made to get into the city, at midnight we found ourselves stuck on an underground metro with our friend, Wade. We spent the last few hours of the year trying to no avail to reach our other friends who were waiting for us in one of the local bars. At one point we got off the train and decided to take a taxi because it would be faster. Nope! No cab would pick us up and so that’s when we headed back to the train and waited for it move toward the city. After the train started rolling, it then broke down for 20 minutes and somewhere between the dark lights and the long quiet wait, 2008 snuck in unceremoniously.

What’s funnier is Wade’s partner, Alan, spent the last 2 hours waiting for us outside in the frigid air. He was freezing and could not get in the club because he didn’t have the required tickets; our friend Barb (who was working inside) was holding our tickets in the club and we were supposed to call her and then meet in the entrance once we all got there. The club entry was by ticket only and they were sold out well in advance. Alan didn’t know Barb from a hole in the wall, plus he didn’t have his cell phone on him or his wallet; these items were secured safely in the pockets of jacket, which was locked safely in the truck of his car right beside his car keys.

To put the icing on the cake, around midnight, Verizon Wireless decided it would be very entertaining to shut down their cell phone towers. No calls could come in or go out so there we were, trying aimlessly to make our way downtown, with no way to reach anyone and no idea where Alan was by this point.

Finally, after 1AM we all managed to meet up and find our way upstairs. We stood at the bar for 20 minutes trying to get the bartender’s attention to order a drink, and of course the drink, which consisted of a full glass of ice, coke and two drops of Crown, was $10. Nate ordered a Red Bull and vodka, which was comprised of about the composition.

Anyway, the past few months have been rough to some degree, what with full time school and work, a promotion which came with a new position working in DC, and we can’t forget this long drawn out Democratic primary season. However, as of last night that fight has ended and the person with the most votes did not go on to win the presumptive nomination.

I realize that by this point in my blog most people will have stopped reading save the two or three people in my life who actually have more time on their hands than me. However, for those who have continued reading, I’ll continue with the revelations.

Most of you may remember I lost my older brother last year, and he was my only full biological sibling. On 23 May of this year, on the eve of my 29-plus-tax-birthday, my dad called me to report that my younger (half) brother had been diagnosed with cancer that was discovered in his chest, neck and lower arms. David is only 17 but the good news, if any, is that it is Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, and it was caught in stage 2.

Let’s see, what else is new? There has been so much going on during the past few months. About three weeks ago, two of my closest friends I had from when I lived in Germany came over to visit. Severine and Jörg spent a weekend with Nate and me, and of course we did some sightseeing and went out a couple nights. Anyway, I’m just rattling on about what’s transpired over the course of the past few months rather than ranting on about what I think or how I feel today, which after all expressing one’s personal views is the sole purpose of blogs! I felt like I owed it to my reader (note: singular) but I’ll revert by next time, providing that’s not another 6 months away.

***
A few months ago, I decided that it was time to retire my personal website of over 10 years by replacing it; I have been in the process of designing an entirely new site from the ground up! The new site is here and it is nowhere near ready to be graded because I simply don’t have the proper time to devote to it. I am planning several Easter eggs (hidden sites with little treasures) throughout the site, but finding them will not be easy. On these sites, I’ll post pictures, some of my writings from my vault and other items that will not be accessible to the casual visitor.

My problem in life right now, is that I feel I don’t have a voice or at least one that is audible beyond the gentle air of a soft whisper. Amongst my circle of friends, I guess I’m known as the one who is abrasive, vocal, very opinionated, sex-minded (always have some venue of sex on the mind) and blunt. However, there is another side of me that so few see and during a few iterations throughout my life, I am troubled by this, even though it’s by my own design and self-fortitude. There is more to me than an empty shell but I have seen time and time again in my life that when I do express genuine concern, my petitions often go unheard and ignored. Writing has been the only significant voice I have been able to carry throughout my whole life and although my audience has not reached the standing room only capacity, I dream to someday achieve this.

I stopped writing for plebeian review about 6 years ago, primarily because I needed to focus my faculties more on a greater charge of self-fulfillment. Since making that decision, I have moved at least a dozen times, held a few jobs, had an unsuccessful septoplasty to remove a bone spur, traveled across the country and back, found my partner, gained 30+ pounds, issued a walking cane for when my back goes out, bought a home, discovered I’m going deaf, started school again, lost my brother and his unborn child, lost old friends, made new friends, had Lasik, owned 6 vehicles, lost most of the 30-pound gain, accrued more debt, went into a short-lived business with my cousin, and most recently, elected as president of the board of directors for my condominium association.

The one thing I am very proud of is that in this time, during the past 6 years, I have been able to devote some time to completing my book, which I started in April of 1999. Between all of my obligations, I have so little time to designate to work on my novel and when I do have some free time, I often lack the inspiration or motivation to open up the page and continue pecking away at the keyboard. While the outline has faced some extensive changes over the years, I am now midway through the ninth chapter out of 13, with the latter portions in their near finished state. I simply have not had the time to conduct a full research necessary for this particular part of the story and for my lack of time, the book has yet again been placed on the back burner; I don’t want my masterpiece to suffer for lack of substantiation.

Meanwhile, the world keeps spinning.

Until next time…
NK

Ricochet

4 December 2007 ~ Reflecting Pool

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Now playing: Survivor - The Search Is Over
via FoxyTunes
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It's 4 December 2007…five years ago today was my last day of active duty in the United States Air Force. For those that don’t know, I spent the last 3 years of my military days stationed in Northern Germany, near the Dutch border. I lived in this small, beautiful, Old World village called Kalkar, which is situated about 5 hours north of the American conglomerate known as K-town. It was great living so far north and working with an international staff; I even taught myself German and made quite a few German national friends. (Pictured Right: Me in Basic Training, taken March 1997)

However, the tides changed around May of 2002 when, after nearly 6 years of active service, I decided that I was not going to reenlist at the end of my term. Instead, I had focused my attention on the desires of my heart and ultimately the fruition of yet another lifelong dream, and that meant moving to Chicago hopefully to join the civilian sector. Naturally, I am required to omit much of the specifics surrounding the nature of events during this period—it can all be found in my book…the same book I have been working on for nearly 10 years! I will finish it someday.

I left my life in Germany on 28 October 2002 and departed on Terminal Leave for, what I thought could only be described as “a dream come true.” Living in Chicago had always been a dream of mine since I was very young, but like most dreams it was short-lived. In late November of that same year I moved back to Omaha, Nebraska (for the second time of my life); again the reasoning of which will be divulged in the greater chronicles to come.

From Nov 2002 to Sept 2004, I remained in Omaha; although, I moved around a few times until finally settling in West Omaha. As luck prevailed, another dream came true in September 04 and I moved to the DC area to accept a nice job offer and I was blessed with an even better job offer a few months later.

My life really began to change when I moved to the DC metropolitan area. For the first time in my life, interstates—a method of travel designed for rapid transportation—became mere parking lots. Further, I started making a little bit of money so hopefully one day I’ll be able to climb out from underneath that boulder of debt. I met my wonderful partner and even managed to buy a very nice condo; actually we’re just renting it from the bank and good God the rent is outrageous!

Sadly; however, whenever and wherever there is good in life, the bad is not far behind and I’m not saying this to sound pessimistic but rather pragmatic. As most everyone in my life knows, I lost my brother just three months ago and not far after, our family took another devastating blow. As I mentioned in previous posts, just after my brother’s untimely demise, his widow discovered the miracle of life had been bestowed graciously upon her. A few weeks ago, she discovered how unbearably cruel life truly can be when she lost the unborn life. Since this tragic discovery, I have not had the time, the energy or the desire to update my blog. (Pictured Right: my brother in Basic Training, taken Aug 1993)

It’s the end of era and the end of the former call sign “Sgtdildo” for this blogsite. I decided today, to respectfully retire that name, as that was one of my brother’s favorite sayings since we were very young. Now that he and any hope of his offspring are gone, it’s time move forward. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think about my brother and the friendship we had growing up; tears often still well up every once in a while.

***

As I reflect on today’s significance, I look back at photos of the past decade and wonder where that little kid went that joined the Air Force 10 years ago (4 Feb 97). I’ve done a lot of crazy things over the years, some great and some not so smart. Along the way, I made a lot of lasting friendships; lost contact with some good friends and family; lost two friends to cancer, and made countless errors in judgment. I have also gained a lot over the years, primarily through experiences attained in life and debt.

I know that I’m not unique in occasionally pondering the endless possibilities of “if I could go back then knowing what I know now” and wondering if elements in life would turn out the same, worse, or better. Suffice to say, none of us will ever know. Fortunately; however, understanding this should make us wiser through experience and ultimately broaden our perspectives enough so that we don’t repeat things we may later regret.

I can attest from personal experiences, that regardless of what gets us down, we have an inherent ability eventually to bounce back.

Until next time…
NK

"...you've been my inspiration; you've been my guiding light."