Monthly Archives: December 2018

Christmas Day

Watching the Polar Express for the 35th time,

Sugary delightfulness a pleasantly pacified delusion.

Orbs melting into the tube, Poor Scrooge, terrorized by the hobgoblins, relents.

Ralphie, on the verge of an adolescent explosion, believes.

Glazed eyes barely able to open, slits of ignorance reflect off of the screen.

Cindy Lou Who laments the sanctity of Whoville.

A call of “Squirrel” does not divert.

So the day drags on.

I Sit And Wait

I spend a lot of time saying that when I retire I am going to disappear into the woods. Not just to hike, but hoping to live out of the main stream of society. To get away from civilization and the filth that it has produced and yet it still demands its place at the table. Away from the talking bobble heads who have found that if they weren’t able read off of a teleprompter would most likely be selling the Squatty Potty at 2 am on some desolate cable network to bleary eyed souls wishing they could disappear as well. (Don’t ask how I know about that)

But here I sit, waiting. Waiting for the day when I can walk out the door for the last time. Walk out the door so this part of my life becomes a memory, one that melts as quickly as the sun sets.

Every day now I read and watch the news and the longing to disconnect from the nightmare of shit that rules the world becomes that much more overwhelming. Here are a couple of gems from the recent news:

“Boy, 16 gives brutal details in killing of pregnant high school cheerleader”

Why did he kill her? Because she hid the pregnancy past the point where she could get an abortion. So how did he solve his problem? He stabbed her in the heart and then left her body in a dumpster. Classic.

“Mom,  37, who allegedly drowned 10 month twins could face penalty”

I’m not even going to get into this one. I sense that a special place in hell exists not only for the one above, but more so for this one.

So I sit and wait. And for now, as I continue to recover, the absence of my long and almost daily hikes is becoming a mental burden. Despite the fact that the cold and often angry weather of the winter months would still keep me sane as I made my way from trail to trail and peak to peak, allowing all of the shit churning in my head to be flushed into a vast wasteland, all I can do is hope for better hiking days.

I need to be listening to the wind as it make its way through the naked trees because it has a way of enveloping me, its unique song guiding me to and through my favorite hiking spots.

People say to me, “You are wishing your life away.” No. Not wishing it away, but instead wishing, hoping and waiting for greener pastures, to find a place where although stupidity may still be present, it won’t rule the day. And yes, I am positive that the grass is greener on the other side of this fence.

So I sit and wait.