Well, it is Father’s Day.So, I decided I would take a little stab at a polysyllogism (almost). I know, “How Categorically Aristotelian of me.” Feel free to draw a Venn diagram of it if you like.

It is Father’s Day.

If wecall ourfather on Father’s Day,we will talk.

If we talk, we willbe happy.

Therefore, if we talk with our father we will be happy.

Happy Father’s day to all fathers andgrandfathers.

I did a little free writing recently. I took a ten minute timer and went to town on Out of Body Experiences. What I am going to do for this blog entry is take that free writing and turn it into something of a blog post. Isn’t that novel. I know that you believe that most of my writing is free writing anyway. And you’re right. I rarely go back and edit my “junk” and clean it up. But this really needed it. I wanted to reflect a little on the content as well. So sit back and relax. Welcome to the free writing redux session.

Out of Body Experiences

I don’t really believe in out of body experiences. I mean how could that really be possible? If you could be out of your body you would have a hard time seeing right? We use our eyes to see. If we somehow managed to get our “soul” or “spirit” out of this mechanical/biological pod, wouldn’t we be blind? The world might appear completely white or black. Maybe just not at all. Doesn’t make any sense.

I do believe that things around us – stimulus – can make us retract from reality. Specifically, I think that pain is an easy one to point out. Love can be another, but the diversion is different. I particularly remember my first… Well, what I remember to be my first experience. Out of body or not. I was young, probably less than ten years old. We had this swing set in the backyard. It was the metaltube frame kind. My dad probably picked it up from the old Howard’s store where he worked. I don’t remember if he did work there then or not. But it seems plausible. The swing had a metal slide on oneside. There were a few chain swings in the middle. Then there was the buggy swing on the opposite end of the slide. The kind where two kids could sit across from each other and swing. We usually sat on the top of the backs of the seats. I am sure that there was no warning written anywhere on it. Back then people were assumed to be smart enough to know what was safe or not. We didn’t really care. If there had been a sticker or sign we would have ignored it. Positively. It was a lot quicker to get thatpuppy up to speed by sitting on the backs of the seats. My cousin and I would sit there and sing our silly made-up songs to each other.

This day in particular started like mostof them did. I was singing and swinging. But this time I fell off the back of that buggy seat. You might ask why. I don’t remember. But, I did fall. Face down. I fell right under the path of that swinging buggy. On its way back to center and through to the top of the swing arc, the buggy passed right over my head. Apparently, the clearance of the bottom of the buggy was enough to miss my butt (which wasn’t much of anything anyway) and catch me right on the back of the head. I don’t remember the impact. But I do remember standing just outside the swing watching the aluminum slats on the bottom that buggy go bam-bam-bam across my skull. That kid’s body, my body, jumping a bit with the impact. The swing eventually slowed down. I regained consciousnessin the back of the car on the way to the hospital. No real damage done. Well, at least as far as I can tell.

So as a recap, I don’t believe in out of body experiences. But, I had one. And – it was weird. I don’t think that I was really outside of my body. But, it was clearly a memory that I hold today with a fair amount of clarity. Memoriesare tricky that way. For me that is. I have quite a few memories that are completely third person experiences. Weird way to remember junk.

I have been thinking that I would spend this summer working on a novel. I have several – well, I guess the best way to say it would be, Ideas. They have been bouncing around in my head for a few months now. I need to focus and commit to at least one of them. So, I guess that I will need to start with the story line of “Samuel of Earth.” Can a young boy from Earth help to correct centuries of fighting for an advanced civilization in that deep dark vacuum of space?

I started writing poetry, if you can call it that, when I was in middle school. Yeah, a few shivers just ran up my spine. I was so very awkward with girls. Since starting this blog, I decided to dig up some of the “old” stuff and take a look at it. This is a poem I have now revisited. It is titled “For someone special.” I can’t remember who it was for now. Being that there were only two or three girls that I pined for back then, I am sure I could guess. But, I choose not to. 🙂 Originally, this poem was pretty free-handed. I generally wrote this stuff straight out of my head (I said heart back then). So, today I revised it to match a set syllable count, meter and rhyme. Not anything that a great poet might have used. I don’t pretend to be very good at the poetry bit. But, I needed to write a bunch of words today and this looked like something that could be fun. And, I wanted to write something for my wife.

For Someone Special (Revised 2013)

Only two hearts that shall be
Only waiting never to see
Looking high, beauty I find
Looking low, waiting to hold

This rose I send bound by love
Heart’s end it came from above
Two in stride the one I find
Bless the one I want to hold

Hope to hope, holding to care
To love you there is no err
Blinding light prevents my find
Struggling my grip to hold

If you shall be ever near
Still waiting for you my dear
Through my love, it you will find
Plainly, is the love to hold

Terrible, I know. But, I warned you that I wasn’t a poet.