Story of my Life

Good times come and good times go,

I only wish the good times would last a little longer.

I think about the good times we had,

and why they had to end.

Life goes by so fast,

you only want to do what you think is right.

Close your eyes and it's passed:

story of my life.

So I'm in my hotel room in Baltimore it's 4:53, and I have to be out the door by 6 to catch my flight back home, and it's getting a little dusty in here, and maybe I should explain why. No, I'll get to that, in the mean time let me preface facts with nostalgia, it's a favorite past-time. One of my favorite pictures in the whole wide world is of my family and my Uncle Tom and his family, the back-drop is a large rock in the middle of a lake, the directions to which nobody for the life of them can recall. But we were there none the less, and I love that picture because I can remember how wonderfully happy I was in that moment, I remember that it was actually kind of breezy, as it was late August, but the sun was amazing, and I was of the age that the water couldn't have been too cold, unless it was frozen, even at that nothing else mattered, for I'll always remember it to be a perfect day, despite what I recall now. It is important to note that later on that day I fell on some rocks and rather deftly sliced my hand open. I remember them scraping debris out of the wound, but I don't feel it, I recall watching the needle go into my hand, but it doesn't hurt anymore, those temporal feelings are insignificant. But the effect was not lost on me: life is not perfect, as a matter of fact often times at best it is bittersweet, and sometimes still the best we can hope for is a remedy, a way to cope, a path best suited for remembering things the way me remember them. Me personally, I would give my skin to the needle and to stitches a million times over to have one more of those days, suffice to say it would be worth it every single time.

And every time I look at that picture the fourteen year-old me tells me the same thing-besides you could lose a few pounds, of course- never be in too much of a hurry to enjoy life. As it was I managed to spoil that feel-good day by slapping my hand down on a sharp rock, but sometimes these things happen, invariably these things happen, and it wouldn't have happened had I not been swimming, or having a good time, in my wisdom now I can recognize a sunk cost, and one well worth it at that.

Again, the life well-lived is one which involves chances, namely the chances we take, but that's not for me to tell, that's for each and every one to find out. And in time you'll find that often times even when you lose, you'll never match the feeling of watching the tumbling dice play out their fate.

I think I might like that picture most though, because it brings me back to a time before I realized I'd have to someday learn all of these profound lessons, times, as they never seemed at the time, really were much simpler back then. Those were days when everything loomed so large, every pickup game was do or die, every summer night was the most amazing spectacle to behold, as prefaced only by the night before. Quite simply everything counted so much more. In that vein a pattern of important numbers began to evolve, and life became a counting game; the number of days in summer vacation, the number of quarters it cost to buy tons of candy, or such an entity as your batting average were all pretty big deals. Looking back on it now though, there's just one number that stood the test of time, the one to grow by- I mean, the holy trinity will always be a big deal, and it's a big one but for me, but, the real magic number in my life from then on has been four. The idea of forty-two, which has a certain significance to me, has always meant luck and a half, just as my birth date numbers are all a double or halving of that recurrent four. But most importantly my mother had four sons, and Chip is leaving.

I've stopped the water-works for now (West-Side Connection just came on the MP3 player, you're not allowed to cry when listening to West-Side Connection) but the thought remains; it's gonna be a long time before we're all together again, we four. In life, it's a terrible thing to be-grudge someone their happiness, in lesser times I must confess to doing so. I would like nothing more than to be constantly surrounded by the most important people in my life, even if it's at the expense of reality, or would require putting the dreams of my brothers on hold. The procession of life however, does not abate, and as such I have learned consent, and perhaps in that vein something resembling serenity.

It's tough though, this whole growing up thing, it's frustrating to realize I've only got one shot at getting it right, which is why I write so much I suppose, and why I think all these silly thoughts about changing the world. And I like to hold out for the day when everybody get it right, so that they don't have to write, or think these silly thoughts. As for my growing up? My biggest regret this far (and I have a really close second and third, but those are for other times) is my inability to discover how to be in four places at once: three of those places being wherever my brothers are- to watch out for them, to give them a hand, and to share in the joy of all the great things they're doing with their lives, (cue the tears again)- and that last place being my own. I like to think it'll be wherever my dreams take me, of course with frequent stops at each and every one of the places that hold my heart.

Chip, I love you bud, it's been a blast watching you grow up, the quiet confidence you posses has always been an inspiration to me. My most ardent thoughts are those which hope I'll always be there for the times in your life when somebody makes the mistake of under-estimating you; thinking they can muscle one by you. In that moment I won't be hard to find, I'll be the guy with the huge grin on his face; right before you turn on that mistake and lace one back up the box.

And as for the rest of it; for one it's funny how every important event in my life can be explained with a baseball analogy, or maybe it's sad, I'm not sure, though I'm sure it doesn't matter. Secondly, I like to think that there are still good times to come, despite the things I have lost, despite the great part of me that is about to go. I like to day dream about when I am old, and how we'll all retire, we four, to some place warm and beautiful, and force our kids and grand-kids to put their lives on hold to stick around and placate and please these four now-old brothers.

But those are thoughts for tomorrows a long way down the trail, in the mean time there is a great span of life yet to be lived. In between time I like to day dream about the great successes my brothers are soon to achieve, the great many hearts which are yet to be won, and the great times ahead we will someday share.

It's about love, after all, this much I am sure of, I love you my brothers, I love you Chip, I hope you always know that where ever you may go, a great part of me goes with you. Do not be afraid to achieve the great success that is your destiny, and do not be afraid to chase your dreams, because they lead only to beautiful things, and the rest of our lives.