Days Go/Gone By

It’s about 3am and I just woke from that wonderful dream.

It’s that dream of moving back into the dorms at Whittier College a few days before the start of school. Judging by the details of this particular rendition of the dream, would place it at the start of Junior year in the fall 1986.

In my dream, I had arrived at the earliest possible time to check into my dorm room.  I routinely did that to get out of Vegas and be anywhere else.

I had moved into the third floor of Stauffer Hall, room 333.   I was out and about visiting people.   There was that mix of new faces and then old friends/acquaintances (my what Facebook-like terms).   I was wondering how long it would take my roommate to drive down from Alaska.  For some reason, he had my dog of 2013 with him.  I am not sure why.  I remembered that my wife, Laura was not happy about Tango going to stay with my roommate in Alaska.  Something about bears.   I was excited that this year, I could call him on his cell phone to keep track of his journey down the coast.

As I explored the dorms and the houses I saw friends that were reuniting after the summer.   I saw them getting back into their, for lack of a better term cliques and I the feeling of not belonging rose up in inside of me.   So in my dream, I excused myself from where I felt that I didn’t fit. I did that quite a bit as a teenager. I did that just yesterday as I think on it. That behavior has excluded me from a lot of fun, or so I think.

I walked backed to my dorm room and there was a familiar face.  She was clearly the floor RA,  telling me where the cleaning supplies were.   In the dream I didn’t recognize her face at first.  It was the face she was wearing at our 20 year reunion last year.  I recall being shocked in the dream at how much she had matured over the summer.  In my dream I noticed the details of her face more than I ever did in real life.


I walked into my dorm room and the anxiety set in.   For some reason there was anxiety about whatever math class I was taking this year and how I was going get through it.   I’ve never been one to worry about classes, but my daughter last night was anxious over her finals this next week.   She also has cheer competitions in the coming weeks and there is cheer drama. There’s always cheer drama.

When I left work yesterday,  I had Keith Urban’s, ‘Days Go By” cranked surprisingly loud in my car as I made my way from office workstation to home workstation. Maybe that’s what triggered the dream.

Maybe, the dream was a function of how busy I am with work and training these days.

Maybe it’s the fact that I am a week away from getting on the road again and that after the stressful part of the trip is over, there will be a chance to visit friends and family in my typical hurried manner.

Maybe, it was just time to have that dream again.

Whatever the reason, it’s time to go back to bed.


Days Go/Gone By

32 Flavors

Today’s blog Post is inspired by The Daily Prompt

Vanilla with a Flake Bar
  1. Coffee
  2. Cherry Garcia
  3. Key Lime Pie
  4. Mint Chocolate Chip
  5. Vanilla
  6. Chocolate
  7. Peach
  8. Strawberry
  9. Chocolate Chip
  10. Orange Sherbert
  11. Tiramisu
  12. Rocky Road
  13. Cookies ‘n Cream
  14. Butter Pecan
  15. Strawberry Cheesecake
  16. Red Velvet
  17. Carrot Cake
  18. Thin mint
  19. Peanut Butter Cup
  20. Mocha Chip
  21. Moose Tracks
  22. French Vanilla
  23. Cheeseburger
  24. Pistachio mocha delight
  25. Chocolate Malted Crunch
  26. Heath bar crunch
  27. Bubble gum
  28. Fruity Pebbles
  29. Apple
  30. Banana
  31. Pizza
  32. Whiskey

What did I miss?   Which is your favorite?

32 Flavors


I went to bed to late last night.

I didn’t bother to set the 5:30am alarm.  I just went with the 6am.

The room was cold with December and my legs were stiff from my last run.  I turned on the coffee and shaved and got dressed.

I wanted to hear the song I downloaded a few days ago, so I sat on the edge of my bed and turned on my ipod.

I stopped and closed eyes to feel the arpeggiation of the guitar chords dancing through my mind.

In the stillness I feel my cold dress shoes. They remind me that the need tying, so we can get going to work.

I despite all the joy I’m feeling listening to the music, it’s not going to get me ready for my 7:30am call.



The Problem Isn’t that Youth is Wasted on the Young

The problem is that the old forget what it is to be young and then blame their misery on age.

Cast off your shroud, no matter how old it is and run.

Run for joy, run to feel your heart pumping and your body sweat.

Run so that your body learns that it’s not winning.

And if you can’t run, walk.
And if you can’t walk, crawl.

And if you can’t crawl, then get your ass in a wheelchair and have someone push you down a hill.   You will figure something out along the ride, hopefully for the better.

Happy New Year.

The Problem Isn’t that Youth is Wasted on the Young