it was nothing special

There is not much I can tell you about my childhood
It was nothing special not to me anyway
But we were raised differently you and I
The context/circumstances are totally different.
I was just thinking about your mom’s appendectomy,
You were six weeks old or something like that
Suddenly I was forced to take care of you
Since Mom wasn’t allowed to lift you at all.
It forced me to take an active role with you
Middle of the night feedings diaper changes
It forced me to be a father a dad
And it couldn’t have worked out any better.
I didn’t even meet my father until I was five
He was forced into the role of father unexpectedly
Did the best he could under the circumstances
spoiled as I was, headstrong, language barrier and all.
I tried to learn from his mistakes
Raised you quite differently
Gave you love and support in all things
At least that is what your mother and I strived for.
Life throws challenges and situations our way
To make us stronger to help us learn
Your health has been a hurdle to all of us
But the lessons to be learned are many.
Life is short and no one knows when it will end,
The everyday struggle blinds us to that fact,
But each and every moment of every day
Should not be wasted or be taken for granted.
You are already ahead of me in so many ways
How you carried yourself persevered against illness,
What you think and how you express those thoughts
We have tried to give you everything that we lacked.
I do not have most of the answers that you seek
Many perceptions and beliefs have turned out wrong
My cravings and clinging are for material things
My concepts and paradigms are built upon illusions.
I hope that we have pointed you in the right direction
That you will succeed where we have failed
There is no integration of theory and action
But our hopes are with you and with the future.
My baby boy turns fourteen in a matter of days
It really does seem just like yesterday
I used to think that was such a stupid cliché
But now I feel it see it for myself.
Someday perhaps you will tell your children
That your childhood was grand and glorious
That your parents treated you like a prince
Because they loved you so much.
We do not have much as far as material things
Despite my obsession with collecting and spending
but we have tried to give you a solid foundation
tried to give you a childhood that was extra special.
Like Prince Siddhartha you were pampered and spoiled
But like the prince you will have to venture outward
And see disease old age and death for yourself
But we never shielded you from the truth.
Life is full of paradox and confusion
Beauty and ugliness pain and joy intertwined
I do not have the answers for you my son
But our love we have given for you to carry forward.

to my son

Do not cower from the collision
You have nothing to fear except fear
Open yourself to the moment
And all its endless possibilities.
Release the stranglehold of self-judgment
And live your life to the fullest
I have seen the brightest fade to oblivion
Before they were given a chance.
I have seen the smallest become the greatest
The greatest become flotsam
And everything else in between.
Anything is possible and everything within reach
Life will drag you down if you allow it
Do not go gently do not give in.
Give everything you have leave it there
So you can say I gave my very best
That is all that we can do all we can hope.
You have a warrior spirit you must trust
I have seen you battle so much
Faced with your own mortality
You fought through the pain and fear.
I doubt I would have done the same
Many would have given up long ago
So understand that you have the capacity
You have the capability to succeed.
Do not dwell in the coulda shoulda wouldas
Lower that shoulder and plow forward
Unleash that warrior spirit
And live your life to the fullest.

some sort of homecoming

Sitting in the metal bleachers at the high school,
Homecoming night football game,
Watching the boy march and cheering the home team.
Announcer welcomed all the grads,
Maybe just a handful there-
But I grew up somewheres else.
What would my homecoming be like,
A hundred miles to the east,
Nineteen years after the fact.
Would I see familiar faces amongst the crowd,
Or has everyone moved on and out
To bigger and better things?
Would my return be triumphant,
Or would I be ashamed of who I am,
Whatever it is I think I have become?
Why do I even care for their opinions?
What would it matter either way?
People and places from long ago,
Only hold sway because I allow it,
I give them power over what I think.
In the end I don’t think it matters,
crowd at my son’s school is the same,
no different from the one at mine.
The kids are pretty much the same,
No matter where you are on this continent.
The demographics might not support it,
But our world continues to get smaller,
Kids are pretty much the same from wherever.
Thanks to cable and the internet,
Homogenization crossing barriers all over,
Good and bad just like everything else.
Hip-hop nation in the suburbs of Detroit,
Just like Toronto or New York City,
Sameness and mass conformity everywhere.
But the truth is that we are all the same,
We have our different languages and traditions,
Different religions and foods.
Underneath it all we are just the same,
We all move along at a similar pace,
Going along with our institutions.
Not good or bad—maybe a little of both,
No judgment just stating the facts,
Showing why I do not need to go back.
Bible stories and works by Shakespeare,
Greek tragedies and comedies,
Written by people long since dead,
Still ring true somehow.
Somehow we have not changed that much,
The poets and sages of yesteryear understood,
Knew that human nature is the same everywhere.
I am not the prodigal son,
My return would not be ignominious or victorious,
There is nothing to be gained in that journey.
My home is right here right now,
Wherever that may be--I am here,
No homecoming is needed when I never left.

under the lights

We skated under the lights last night,
Made the trip down to Mason,
Jonesing for the last ten days for a session.
My boy was too battered and bruised,
Trying to play the foosball like Bobby Bouchet,
So he just chilled and watched from the shadows.
My babygirl dropped in said it was way too small,
Too fast for her to do much of anything,
Still needs to work on her carving.
My favorite corner was away from the lights,
Only three throughout the park,
Hitting that tight corner got pretty sketchy.
I went too high had to bail-board jumped up,
Bit me in the shin bleeding turned to hematoma.
Battle scars fresh and new bloody socks,
Part of the price of playing this game,
Broken skin beats broken bones so I don’t complain.
Local newbies were trying to kickturn,
Accompanied by Peterson—some kid that had mad skills,
Flying all over the place grinding ollieing 50/50’s.
Bummed a square complemented them on their park,
Sometimes the kids are alright just kids skating,
Kids just like we were whole lives ahead of them.
Full moon rising cold October evening,
We could see our breath as we pushed and carved,
Bailed and kicked wheels barking boards flying.

misting rain

Right place wrong time same story as ever before,
Misty rain coats my brand new hoodie,
Lights flood the field Friday night football,
Toddler in tow pre-teen walking talking with friends,
My high schooler sitting with the band all suited up.
Drumbeats sound much the same as before,
But now they know now they have been told,
Not gonna stress about that for now too much,
Too much on my heaping plate,
Gotta gain strength and momentum for the next wave.
There is disagreement about the cadence,
Music director trying to get technical on me,
That’s alright that’s o.k. keep playing and see,
See what happens when Nokomis decides to call in AIM,
Gonna have some real redskins in your house.
Its on you you been told don’t blame me,
Someone’s gonna have to show you how its done,
Don’t give me no crap about studying us back-in-the-day,
We been studying you from the very first,
Hairy light stinking strangers out of the east.
You play your role I’ll play mine its understood,
Gonna take some time gonna be a process,
So I’ll ride this wave tuck my knees wave my arms,
Do what I must to stay afloat to stay above the water,
Gonna keep on keeping on keep on living and enjoying.
This place gets so packed so many kids so many people,
Good kinda energy reminds me of my youth,
I’m sitting here breathing it all in and enjoying,
Possibilities so many possibilities and we’re all here,
Having fun poking fun watching the football game.

a dream i dreamt

I dreamt that I was dreaming a dream
About you, me, and everyone we knew
All the same as here in this plane
But yet different somehow.
I dreamt about the children but they were older
And I was still skateboarding,
Looking for my gear before heading out,
I stopped to tell E that I loved him.
But he was so much older than he is now,
Maybe twelve years older and much taller than me-
On his way to high school I suppose.
The older kids came home later,
Dropping in to visit their baby brother, mom, and dad.
In twelve years, I will be just shy of 50,
You still in your mid-forties,
Lots of life beyond that I hope,
But I looked and felt old,
But yet satisfied somehow.
It’s been fifteen years since we first met,
So hard to believe—
So much has passed from then to now.
Some good things have happened in between,
Some other things I would sooner forget I suppose.
We have changed as individuals, as a couple;
But that has to be expected I suppose.
I find myself wondering and questioning,
But I realize that life is just like that sometimes—
Paradigms, viewpoints, perspectives have all shifted,
Life has not turned out quite the way I had imagined.
I am not the person that I had imagined.
There is the rub—how do I relate to life now?
I have blamed it solely on the outer universe,
But it is the inner universe that I am angry about.
That is the journey that lies ahead for us both,
Coming to terms with what is and what we had wished was,
But I can tell you nothing of what I will discover inside—
That is all foreign territory to me.
So what shall we find, how will we respond?
I suppose we will know in fifteen more years—
Whatever we find, I hope you are there to share with me.

Shiloh was in my dream as well—
Smiling and doting on her kids as usual,
Not sure what message that was supposed to convey.
I thought about it for a moment as I sat in the car,
Mind cluttered with wants and needs,
Suddenly something sliced through the haze,
The trees in front of me came suddenly alive.
Crystal clear sight of nothing special—
Just trees, but it was miraculous all the same.
Cutting through the haze and living in the moment,
Paying attention to the life that is right before me,
Has always been a struggle.
Living as I did as a child,
fantasy saved me from facing reality—
it was a way of protecting myself.
I cling to that way of relating to the world,
Afraid to face the everyday with a clear and open mind—
Co-workers, mortgages, bills, any and every conflict
all chase me back inside my shell.
I only recently started paying attention to the weather,
Cognizant for the first time because of skateboarding-
A young man’s game perhaps, but liberating all the same.
Atop the board on an ten foot wall,
You need to be paying attention—
Failing to do so can result in serious damage.
My joints and muscles are all aching,
But I feel good for the first time in a long time.
The concrete occasionally jumps up to bite me,
to remind me to pay attention—
a gentle reminder to let me know that I am alive.

sanity assassins

Rainy cold dreary September day—
I told my daughter it was gonna rain yesterday, but she didn’t believe me.
Just something about the wind, something in the air yesterday,
Humid and windy--but I could just feel the onset of rain.
I imagine our ancestors had a name for it,
As they did for so many things that we have forgotten.
Summer’s last gasp as autumn leeches into the air,
Cold rain showers sent to pummel our spirits,
And prepare us for the long frozen nights of winter.

I had to cut and run, not willing to shoulder the blame,
Not believing that my superiors would do what needed to be done.
They reward bad behavior and mediocrity,
No reason to rise above when everyone else is sinking.
Everyone thinks I am just showing off, just being nitpicky,
But what is it that they are doing here?
No one owes them a livelihood, owes them anything,
But their sense of entitlement is so apparent,
And they bide their time and pay their dues.
Some day one of them is gonna run this place,
God forbid but someone might just screw up
And put one of them in a position of power.

The payment will be refused and returned,
According to the lady at CountryBlight,
But that was over a week ago.
I can’t send them what I don’t have,
Although they have it/had it just last week,
And perhaps it is now in the mail.
They hit me with fees and fines,
But I have to just sit and wait,
Because my check’s in the mail.
I’ll turn right back around,
Send it right back to them,
But they’ll keep calling,
Keep right on reporting me to the credit bureaus,
All the while the check’s in the mail somewhere.

petstory

I was never a big pet person--take em or leave em; but:

when we were living on my wife's reserve in Canada (Wikwemikong), we inherited a german shepard/labrador mix named Waub. Like all dogs on the rez, he came and went when he wanted-- no leash, etc . . .
my wife was preganant with our daughter and she gets a crazy craving for some chocolate and a Coke--insists I go to town to get one. It's 10 km to town (6.2 miles for the metrically-challenged)-- we lived off on the family farm, in the middle of nowhere, neaeest neighbors are about half a mile down the road, so I start riding this mountain bike someone left propped against the barn.
the dog comes trotting out of the woods as i start down the road-- wants to go with me-- i yell at him and throw rocks at him to make him go home-- he refuses so I just start pedaling, ignoring the stupid mutt.
all along the path, every time I come to a driveway, all these mangy unleashed Rez dogs come tearing after me-- Waub takes on all the dogs, keeping them away from me-- he does this the whole 10km to town and the whole 10km back. Damn dog saved my butt.
some idiot ran him over after we moved back to the states and broke his back--one of the neighbors shot him dead on the road "to put him out of his misery." lucky i wasn't still living there, might've done the same to the neighbor . . .

another time;
i fall asleep on the couch and my daughter gets her finger stuck in the VCR-- i hop up, try to get her finger out-- our cat, Littlefoot, apparently thinks I'm hurting her, so the damn things starts pouncing on my back, hissing the whole time--
I'm trying to calm my daughter down, get her finger out of the VCR while the damn cat is attacking me--
the cat has always insisted on sleeping with "the baby"-- it would always curl up at my daughter's feet, but started sleeping at my 4-year-old's feet soon after we brought him home from the hospital.
she used to get right up in our face whenever the babies cried, meowing loudly, as if to say, "hey, do something, dammit!"