Summer Breeze

In Sacramento, at least, there's one small bit of redemption from the hostile and unrelenting summer heat: the Delta Breeze. It blows in from the southwest and washes over the sun-soaked land, making this season a little bearable. I can almost forget my desire to live in an area with a more temperate climate. Almost. But that is still some years away, and won't really happen until a variety of aspects in my life return to alignment.

The cool evenings here make for enjoyable evening walking weather. And so I take advantage of the neighborhood I'm in and it's many biking and jogging paths. And the timing was in sync to enjoy the end of another day, as designated and punctuated by the passing of the sun down below our line of sight.

The sunset. What a marvelously simple thing to watch, as the sky paints a line of color along the entire horizon, slowly shifting from blue to orange, then pink to violet, and on to deep purple as is slowly dissipates into blackness. What a wonderful painter our little planet is!

And then the stars pop out one by one, saying, "Hello! Look at me! Here I am!" It's amazing that this little planet in the middle of nowhere is suddenly in the middle of everywhere, and simply by the act of turning around.

And, I think, it's important for us to turn and look around too. To notice the things around us and appreciate their existence. After all, you never know what (or who, for that matter) you might be missing if you don't look around once in awhile. Such are the hazards of getting stuck in a never-changing routine in life. Be careful! But take some risks, and don't be afraid to live.

Or at least, enjoy the cool summer breeze across your face anyway. It will likely be hot again tomorrow.

Thinking, Not Out Loud

Have you ever felt like you're standing on the edge of a precipice, immersed in thought and on the brink of beginning to understand some great cosmological constant? I feel like that sometimes. Like some great human understanding is just tantalizingly out of reach. Of course it's possible this may be just some great internal delusion. But it's as if, for just an instant, your brain has awoken from some long dormant state and is demanding attention from your soul.

And then in a flash, it's gone.

I have long been pondering the underlying root condition of successful personal relationships. Why? Good lord I have no idea. It sounds like a dreadful waste of time. But no, that's not really true. It's on my mind more and more these days, as I forge onward into my status as a "single" person.

In life, relationships come and go. I'm sure I've written this before, but the reality is that all relationships can have only two possible endings: a breakup or death. There's no other way for it to conclude. (At this point, firm believers in an afterlife must be beside themselves and wanting to assert that relationships can and do continue past this life. That they can, in fact, last "forever"). Isn't that depressing? Neither one of those conclusions is particularly positive. It does not bode well for us humans, as we struggle so hard throughout our lives to maintain these relationships. To what end? Death or a breakup.

Anyways.

As I'm now (again) in between relationships, I again am pondering: what is it that makes successful relationships, well, successful? All sorts of cliche answers come to mind. Communication. Respect. Common values. And so on. And sure, these are all important points to maintaining a successful relationship. But I'm looking for something deeper. Something under the surface which can, dare I say, predetermine a relationship's capacity for success.

I think it lies in the brain.

No, really. What if what we really need is simply someone who exists on the same intellectual plane as we do. I say "simply" but it's really anything but. Perhaps, at our core, we need someone who can think like we do, and can inspire us to continue using our brain. We need to be...intellectually stimulated. No amount of communication or counseling or respect or whatever can save us, if our brain has shut down due to boredom.

Of course, everyone has a different level at which their brain becomes bored. We're all unique like that. Perhaps in the future, brain mapping will supplant fingerprinting in the identification process.

Am I crazy? Maybe, maybe. Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe I'm onto something. Really, I'm just thinking. But not out loud. That might get me committed. Or something.

Sailing Home

Here we are in the middle of the ocean, slowly inching our way home. It's 5:45am on the morning of our last day aboard the beautiful Grand Princess. She's a beautiful ship, though aging now at just over 20 years old.

It's been a good trip. Connor has been the best he's ever been at sea, though still often rambunctious and loud. But he's eagerly gone to the kids club (after crying every time last year). And he's eaten more than he's ever eaten onboard. Though he mostly sticks to a routine. breakfast of pancakes, Rice Crispies, and a banana. Lunch of pizza. Dinner of alphabet soup and French fries and chocolate chip cookies for dessert. Repeat.

I did not see a whole lot of wildlife this trip, save for bald eagles which were everywhere in Sitka. And a lot of my time was spent corralling the wild Connor. But I did get to most of the naturalist's talks onboard, and explored the towns quite a bit. Did an easy hike I've never done in Skagway and explored the amazing totem park in Sitka before watching two rehabilitated eagles get released back to the wild.

All in all I'd say it was a successful trip.

One more day - and it's the 4th of July no less - before we return to San Francisco and back to the realities of life. But for now, just watching the ship sailing into the deep blue horizon. And having some drinks...well, maybe a little closer to noon...

Sailing Away

It's 8pm on Tuesday, June 25. We've been on the ocean since just after 4pm, sailing north from San Francisco towards Alaska. This is almost become a sort of religious mecca for me, as it's now my 15th cruise overall and 6th on Princess, and 5th time to Alaska.

I guess you could say it kind of calls me. The beauty of the vast nature wonderland, the quaint towns, the peaceful serenity of a slower pace of life. Cruising, and visiting Alaska, are certainly great ways to escape the harsher reality of the fast paced city life engulfed by work and school.

It's nice to get away.

This is my first vacation alone with Connor. Well to be fair, it's not entirely alone as most of my family are also on this trip. But me and Connor are living the bachelor life in our own cozy ocean view stateroom. He fell asleep clutching his new box of Crayola crayons. I'm just watching the world slowly pass by and the sun slowly dip down into the horizon. Wild bachelors, we are not.

We'll see how much of a real vacation this is for me in the end. In the meantime, we're sailing away into the ocean blue. And oh yeah - we saw some whales spouting from our window a little while ago. Onward.

Walking In a Winter Wonderland

So I've just returned from a three-night sojourn to South Lake Tahoe. Sort of an end-of-semester getaway, to celebrate another completed school season and take a needed break from the extreme busyness of the last few weeks.

It was not the trip I expected.

Of course, booking six weeks ago, who could tell what the weather was to be like? I had originally considered going back to San Francisco, to my usual go-to decompression destination. But the hotel rates were higher than I wanted to pay. So I thought, why not Tahoe? I hadn't been there in awhile, and it's full of nature and beauty. And fresh, clean air. So I went. And it snowed.

It was like being in a Christmas song, waking up each morning to a winter wonderland of snow. So unexpected for late May! I was fortunate to be driving up there in between the unseasonably late storms, so the roads were at least clear. And actually it was sunny and clear for the first full day, so I made use of the time and took a drive up the eastern shore of the lake, stopping to hike around Spooner Lake and to explore the incredibly beautiful Sand Harbor. Both of which were new to me, and picked simply by virtue of being a little dot on a map from the rack of brochures at my hotel.

After that, it was cold. And the world was bathed in white. But I liked it. I didn't grow up around snow, and frankly have spent very little time in it. None, really, as a child. Though winter stories always painted pictures of it. I walked through gentle flurries, caught snowflakes on my tongue. Just like a holiday tale full of wonder and nostalgia, though for me a first time experience. It was nice. It was beautiful. It was a photographers paradise. It almost felt like Christmas. A Christmas I never experienced.

I decided to let myself live a little, which is a fairly rare prize for me to offer to myself. I took in a comedy show. And a magic show (that was more comedy than magic). I dined at a different location for every meal. I bought cookies and chocolates and had more than a dozen cups of cocoa (the hotel had free cocoa in the lobby; what a dangerous thing to offer). I did no fast food, only sit-down dining experiences. To rest, I read by the balcony window of my second-floor hotel room while watching snow gently float down unto the boughs of trees and the ground below. I bought presents for my son, who was back in Sacramento with his mother. I gambled a little, at three different casinos, and came out $23 ahead overall (which for me is quite a lucky streak).

It was a nice trip, full of explorations and experience. It was also a little lonely. As trips these days can be.

But now I'm back home, and tomorrow it will be back to work. Though, at least with the semester finished it will be quiet. Tranquil. In that way not unlike my little vacation. But without the 30-degree temperatures.

But when I look out the window tomorrow, the winter wonderland will not be there, beckoning to me. If I take a walk it will still be through a forest, of sorts, but without the satisfying soft crunch of snow beneath my boots. But maybe I'll close my eyes and remember what it was like to walk in a winter wonderland.

Closing Show

It's nice sometimes just to sit and marvel at the beauty of the world. I'm not a particularly religious person, but if anything could provide spiritual contentment in this crazy society of ours, certainly the unspoiled grandeur of nature is up to the task. Despite humanity's best efforts to ruin it.

Today is the closing show of Mamma Mia at the Vallejo high school I've been playing at this week. I'm here quite early in town, on purpose, to enjoy a relaxing picnic lunch in Benicia State Park. A place I've never been before.

It's been great to have an excuse to pull out the Ibanez bass guitar and play again. Though it's been a whirlwind of a week. One rehearsal run through and then opening night. And it's not the easiest of musical books either. Doubly so if you haven't touched your instrument in a couple years. Yes, a second rehearsal would have been quite beneficial. Despite the tiresome drive of 60 miles one way to get here. But it is what it is.

It's been fun, as it's fun music to play, and just in general fun to BE playing again. Even if it's just a small-time high school production. There was a time when I'd do 4 shows a year. Or 5. Or 6. And they were all four-weekend runs. Generally a dozen performances per show. But those days are past, just a distant memory now. Some of those companies don't even exist anymore, most notably Runaway Stage Productions, whom I played and directed with a lot. Now just having one week of a show, for me, is a rare treat.

So it will be bittersweet today as we close out the run with our fourth performance, and our first and only matinee. And even though it's 'just' a high school production staged in their cafetorium, it's been rewarding for me. Seeing that I CAN in fact still play, still be a valuable asset to a show. So I'll miss this one. Though I won't miss the commute.

How long will it be till I play again? Who knows, who knows.