I looked down at my watch this morning to realize this month is trying to sneak out from under me. August is in it’s third act. New clothes have been purchased, pens are filled with ink, and school is in session. This time of year is palpable. It becomes a season of movement for so many, but it seems rather quiet for me. I’m trying to stay focused despite the subtle feelings of deep tectonics shifts.
An abbreviated Summer rushed through my veins this morning. June was LA and Vegas. Two ridiculously amazing trips where I found myself in proper amounts of trouble. Abbot Kinney, Echo Park, long lay-overs, and well... Vegas. July attempted to take my life, but it wasn’t quite time. The month brought either broken or bruised ribs (still not sure), a black eye, bruised tailbone, new scratches and scars littering my body and torn heel tissue. The July *highlight* was not managing my hydration and passing out in the fungi-filled bottom of a YMCA shower. In August I began the process of extracting heavy metals from my body. Apparently, I have high mercury levels. I shouldn't have had the tuna steak last night, but oh well. There are only so many nights to loll about in grandiose silence on perfect summer nights with your family in the backyard, polish off a margarita, and take joy watching the cat with a mustache ever-so-slowly sneak into trouble.
Everyone seems to be in swing. Last weekend, I helped some dear friends of mine move into a new house. No one really likes to help others move, but I actually loved it. It required zero creativity. I grab a box, they say ‘bedroom’, I take it to the bedroom. Problems were discovered, resolved and forgotten about within ten minutes. I prayed the washer would fit into the basement and it did. Moving miracle. It felt satisfying because all my miracles seem so enormous these days. Oh, and Qdoba also accidentally put my name on two burrito bowls. I ate both. That was an additional moving miracle.
I had a few tiny seizures mid-move. Chuck spotted one and snuck me upstairs to his apartment and gave me a banana. Later, after another small one, Heather brought me a bottle of water and patted me on the back. No need to say anything. Can I just say how much I love my friends and family? This weekend, I’ll be packing up another set of friends and getting all teary sending them three hours to Chicago. They keep telling me I’ll always have a place to stay in the city. I guess that helps, but still, I’d rather have them nearby now. Everything is shifting.
I finally checked The Beach Boys off my bucket list. They were a little shaky, but they still have it. I wouldn’t trust Brian Wilson anywhere near open water. I remembered family road trips to Tennessee, in the way back of the blue Chevy Astro van, listening to my walkman and staring out the window at the St. Louis Arch. I don’t know how old I was, but I remember doubting a song existed more beautiful than Surfer Girl.
I finally saw Prairie Home Companion. Checked that off the bucket list as well. I watched Garrison Keillor as he wandered through the audience during the standing intermission. He began leading us in songs we had all managed to stumble across at some point in our lives. Americana at it’s finest. My Country ‘tis of Thee, followed by, When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun... moving onto The Battle Hymn of the Republic, with a final selection of Fools Rush In by Elvis. That intermission may have won a spot in the top ten moments of my life. I caught Garrison sneaking around back stage and went to grab a photo with him. He popped my collar and I complimented his seersucker suit. I could barely sleep that night.
Last week was Heather’s 27th birthday and this week is her co-ed baby shower. Not only is my little sister growing up but now she’s replicating. I still find it hard to believe she’s growing a small human in her belly. The only thing that keeps the world from running away into adulthood is when Heather and Michael return from their pregnancy classes to show me their updated tally on the ‘That’s what she said...’ list. I’m supposed to get her a gift for her shower. She has a list, but I’m a proud list-breaker. If you have a good idea, please pass it along.
This summer allowed me to peek in on all my friends projects. They’re all doing such cool things. I’m honestly so proud of them...
- My friend Dan is working on one of the most exciting projects I’ve heard of in quite a while.
- Seth and Sally have a new home.
- Chuck and Holly are packing up and heading towards Chi-town.
- Ben is about to drop something of epic proportions on the fashion world.
- Don and Ben sold out their respective conferences.
- Santino dropped the hint of El Camino De Santiago this coming March. I’m calling it El Camino de Santino.
- Corey is returning from Fiji, or wherever, after previously returning from Swaziland, or wherever.
- Everyone knows Caton’s got something up his sleeve.
- Jon and Kristen had their fourth healthy baby boy, Silas Avery.
- My sister Leslie got a fantastic new job at her kids’ school.
- Tim and Molly are engaged.
- Rob and Katrena are getting married. And so is Nichole.
- Two dear friends, Zac & Mar, just got hitched in a treehouse. I was honored to translate the ceremony for Zac’s childhood Japanese minister, Mochida-Sensei. I’ll never forget him practicing the ending over and over, “YOU MAY KISS!” No need to translate that.
Just a few memories from this summer, as everyone presses on in full swing. But not me. Not quite yet. If patience is a virtue, then I’m bribing people to sneak me as close to virtue as possible. Some big things are happening, but they are still too deep to mention, still resting on tectonic plates. As long as they keep shifting, I’ll remain hunkered down.
But soon, when the timing is right...