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| Darlene Love - Christmas.
Last night I had a dream that I was on vacation with my family in Arkansas. We were all gathered together, standing at a paved overlook point and watching a humongous waterfall in the distance. The waterfall was across a small, river-filled canyon from us, but still started at our eye level. There was a sign at the overlook point that had information about the waterfall on it, and some man was reading it. Aside from my family, there were only a few other tourists around. One of them had binoculars.
I decided to walk away, because I'd seen enough of the waterfall and wanted to see what else was around. I walked past some pine trees and a visitor's information center and came across a flat suburb full of ranch-style homes, beautiful green lawns and tall trees. There were so many trees, and they were all very tall and full of green leaves. I went into the neighborhood and walked along the sidewalk for a little while, admiring things.
Eventually I saw a riding lawnmower sitting out in somebody's driveway, just like a car would. I got on the mower and rolled it out into the street by using one foot to push off the pavement. It was like what you'd do if you stole a motorcycle. You'd push it along for a bit so the noise of the engine wouldn't alert the owner, and then you'd take off once you were a safe distance away.
Once I had the mower in the street I started it up. It was silent. It didn't make a noise. I pushed on the accelerator and the mower flew forward at just the right speed. Not too fast, not too slow. It was like I was gliding through the neighborhood on this riding mower. The ground just slipped by beneath me.
After a while, I was a little scared that the mower's owner would see me and come after me, so I steered the mower into a yard that backed up to some woods. I rode along the edge of the backyard and then ducked into the forest. The forest was full of enormous trees, but there was plenty of room for me to ride the mower around in there, and the blade wasn't going, so I wasn't disturbing anything. I could feel a big smile on my face, and I flew around on the forest floor until I woke up.
Love,
Mike.
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| I'm at work forty hours a week, and lately I've been spending most of my spare time there going to a select few websites and then clicking around aimlessly while listening to music. I'm up to date on scandals and celebrity lives that I'm not even vaguely interested in, as well as many things I am interested in. When I get home in the mornings, I get on the computer and listen to music or watch a television show I've downloaded to wind down. I haven't looked at much pornography lately, but I definitely go through phases where I'll overindulge in that for a week or so. When I wake up in the evening, the first thing I want to do is either shower or check my e-mail. At home, if I'm not in the kitchen making food or talking to my roommates, I'm in my room on the computer. I don't have a stereo or television in my room, so if I want to listen to music or watch a movie, I'm on the computer. If I want to write, I'm on the computer. When I go out I see screens everywhere. Grocery stores, department stores, restaurants and my friends often have large televisions going. Other people out and about are focused on laptops, cell phone screens and portable music players. It has been years since I've gone to an event and not seen a digital camera.
A month or two ago my computer was packed away in a box because I was between places. One afternoon I was on a bed, reading a Calvin and Hobbes book, drifting in and out of sleep. I was extremely content, and as soon as I realized this, my brain went to work analyzing my contentment. (It's an annoying thing that it does, but it means well, and there's really no stopping it, so you know.) It remembered that I spent a lot of bored summer days and school afternoons in exactly the same manner that I was spending that afternoon. I used to lay on the floor and read books and flip through magazines, and know a lot less, and actually hunger for and value information. I drew. I tried to figure out how to draw better. I listened to the radio, hoping that I could hear that song I loved so I could record it on a cassette. I had a little black and white television in my room, and it's antenna pulled fuzzy shows out of the air. Later I got a small color one that did the same thing. I didn't watch it very often, because we had basic cable downstairs. It was only about thirty channels though, and they mostly sucked, so really I just watched syndicated Simpsons reruns in the evenings and that was about it. I had a VCR in my room. I occasionally watched VHS tapes I'd rented or received as birthday or Christmas gifts. I also played video games, but I only had about five games, and I never beat any of them. I used to play with Legos and toy cars, and it was very hot or cold in my converted attic bedroom depending on the season. If my parents were driving me somewhere at night, I'd look out the window and see what was around. A lot of the time I'd squint so that my eyes were just barely open, and my eyelashes would touch, and the lights outside would stretch into firework shapes. If it was rainy and or you could get your eyes to water, that was also good.
Love,
Mike.
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