The Cheap Seats

My brother turned 50 three days ago. My mind was slightly blown. 50 - a big number. Grandparents are in their 50's, not brothers. Brothers shoot baskets with you, play catch with you, trade baseball cards with you. Grow up with you. Brothers are not 50. But he is, and I can't ignore the fact that I am only two and a half years behind him. As children, my brother and I did everything together, in every season. On evenings, weekends, and summer breaks each day included one of us telepathically asking the other, "What should we do today?" Our domain seemed to offer endless possibilities. It couldn't have been more than 1/3 of a square mile, but to a couple of pre-adolescent kids it was a kingdom. Even now I can conjure up images and names of its key points: The Loop - The Ditch - The Hill - The Shed - The Trees - The Woods. All worthy of capitalization. Two miles from the sleepy town of Carlton, Minnesota - The Loop was an uneven dirt road oval that enc

Aging can be a competition between contrasts. On one hand, we should get better at everything we do, both positive and negative. This improvement doesn't even have to be the result of focused attention. Simple repetition (and lots of it) should do the trick, right? But on the other hand, the passage of time can also have a sobering effect. We all had large ideas of what was going to be in store for us. Most of these included a certain level of naivety (I wanted to be the POTUS. No kidding, the POTUS - google it). In our defense, we weren't 25 yet so a fully mature brain was not something we could claim ownership of - so for better or worse we were dreaming big. Eventually though, some semblance of realism set in before we began the hard work of adulthood. But then our 20's and 30's faded into the rearview mirror and we were just beginning to become acquainted with ourselves. Answers to vexing questions like, Why do I keep making the same mistakes?  or Why can

Now more than any other time in history, we live in our own heads. What does this mean? Well, at least in America we no longer labor for a living. Those jobs are gone and gone for good. We now serve, facilitate, manage, fix, install, teach, care for, and specialize. In other words, we are primarily conduits for the exchange of goods, information and services. Individual free time - varying from person to person - is now regularly scheduled. But this free time also includes time to think, worry, wonder and waste.   Three or more generations ago Americans labored, often long and hard. The rhythms of life were dictated more often by daily physical fatigue than happy hours, soccer practices, gym memberships or satiating other desires. Yes life was more of a struggle, but the struggle was less complicated, more straight-forward. As a result, that little voice in our head that often thinks too much was quieted by the imperative of moving through each day.   Fast forward to this glos

I don't know how I got here. I'm not supposed to be alone. Oh where did my companion go, leaving me adrift to wail and moan? From that first glance you were beside me. Inseparable soles, striding side by side. Two halves of one perfect whole, we would never be denied. But cast me off you did, No farewell or reason why. Left to lie here prone, pity's gaze from each passerby. With timeless days to mock me, I wonder at your fate. Cry and curse you under starlight, my unforgotten mate. You've damned me to an eternity, where I feel each season's sting. Bitter cold, bitter rain, bitter heat, pain anew from me they wring. You can't be happy without me. How could you - we were a pair! Why commit mutual suicide, savagely fill me with despair?! But still I'd forgive you yet, if you just take me back once more. Because with you I had a purpose, it's your absence I deplore. Wait til then I surely