Day 466: Feeling Gravity's Pull.

Wistfully watching a parachuter float down in Lake Elsinore last weekend.

Ten Things I Haven't Done Yet:

1. Attended all four Grand Slam tennis tournaments.

2. Toured Wine Country in Northern California and Washington State.

3. Gone one month without television.

4. Driven an Airstream cross-country (trip funded by finding stuff to sell on eBay along the way).

5. Learned to play the piano.

6. Traveled the Greek Islands.

7. Gone skydiving.

8. Raised a horse from a colt.

9. Taken a class from a master chef.

10. Gotten the tattoo I want.

Day 455: I Rode a Motorcycle Today.

My bike has lots of ... parts.

It turns out there's a lot more to riding a motorcycle than just sitting on it and pushing "Go." There's a clutch and two kinds of brakes and gears you work with your feet.

I practiced in the yard at first (watch out world) while Tea taught me how to shift. After I got the hang of it, I went up and down the block a couple of times (only in first gear, and never more than 10 or 15 miles per hour).

It wasn't exactly the biggest deal on the planet, I guess ... unless, of course, you haven't been on a motorcycle in 22 years. And if the last time you were on one, you crashed.

I was scared shitless, but it was also pretty fun.

I wish there were pictures.

Day 454: Day of Rest.

Catnap - 2007

Day 453: Insecurity is Never Sexy.

It was a simple enough question: "What size are you?"

I couldn't answer. I just sat there, frozen. With four words, Tea had opened the door to my single greatest insecurity, and she had no idea. As the seconds ticked by - and I remained silent - the moment just continued to get stranger.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The background is this: I received a new pair of jeans in the mail this morning (moss green, new with tags, for $12 shipped - buying clothes on eBay is just about the smartest idea ever). I was wearing them when Tea stopped by this afternoon, and she remarked that they looked good on me. That's when the size question popped out.

I immediately knew why she was asking. Tea likes to frequent thrift stores and she also likes to buy little presents. She was asking so that if she happened to stumble across a pair of pants in my size, she could pick them up.

When it became clear that I wasn't going to answer, Tea looked at me.

"You're not going to tell me?"

"I can't."

"Why?"

And there it was. All I had to do was stop the Drama Train and say it; after all, it's not like she doesn't know what I look like. The attraction between us is solid, and she's always saying sweet, complimentary things about my body.

"I just don't want to say," I finally muttered. "I'll tell you in two sizes."

Tea's expression changed as she shook her head.

"That's so insulting. I can't believe you think I would care."

I still couldn't answer. I was watching myself turn an innocent question into Drama, and felt powerless to stop it. I'd been doing a good job of keeping my weight/body insecurities out of my relationship with Tea, and suddenly, there they were, out on full display.

Finally, a good 10 minutes later, I looked at her and quietly said, "16."

Tea shrugged. "That's what I would have guessed."

I know, I blew this thing way out of proportion. Sorry, but you trying telling some hot little Size 6 chick that you've five tags up on her in the wardrobe department. It's no fun.

It's even less fun to realize that if I'd just said "16" to begin with - like it was no big deal - I would have looked confident instead of cliched.

When will I learn?

Days 449 & 450: Gula.

From The Seven Deadly Sins and the Four Last Things - Hieronymus Bosch, 1485

I was asked not long ago to choose between the seven deadly sins - which one do I most often abuse? Which sin is my ultimate downfall?

Like a deep, dark truth you know about yourself but rarely voice out loud, the answer immediately filled my brain's information screen. I (of course) didn't want to cop to it, so I insisted on going though the other six ... just to make sure I wasn't being hasty. It took a few minutes to come up with all seven (I always forget about wrath), but finally, I ticked through the list.

1) Wrath (originally, the Latin "ira"): I lose my temper sometimes - and I've been known to be a bully - but generally speaking, anger's not my bag.

2) Lust ("luxuria"): I've never been able to figure out why this one's a sin.

3) Sloth ("acedia"): If I had to choose a second-worst sin, this would be it.

4) Envy ("invidia"): I have a jealous streak - and I've been known to occasionally envy the success of others - but I wouldn't say it's anywhere near the top of my Sin List.

5) Pride ("superbia")" Like most of us, I make plenty of stupid decisions based on pride. Luckily, it rarely takes me long to backtrack and make things right.

6) Greed ("avarita"): Sure, I can be greedy, especially if you define greed as the need for more and more. But if you go by the more traditional definition (desiring money, power, and/or material possessions), it's not where my ultimate weakness lies.

No, my Numero Uno Sin is, of course ....

Gluttony ("gula").

"Modern views identify Gluttony with an overindulgence of food and drink, though in the past, any form of thoughtless excess could fall within the definition of this sin. Marked by unreasonable or unnecessary excess of consumption, Gluttony could also include certain forms of destructive behavior, especially for sport, or for its own sake." - Wikipedia

Yep. Pretty much sums things up. After all, if you look back at Day One of this blog, I say that I started it on Thanksgiving Day because it felt like a classic case of wanton consumption.

Nothing is ever enough for me, and nothing ever has been. I guess when there are missing pieces inside, you have two choices: You can learn to mind the gaps, or you can spend your life chasing anything you think might fill them in.

I've tried to do both, and as is often the case when one pursues multiple paths, neither one ever takes you where you truly need to go.

If I sit at the edge of my life today and take it all in, I can see where my neediness tends to override pretty much everything else that might be happening. I've got a literary agent and my manuscript is currently sitting with five publishers (waiting to be read), but that's not enough. I want it to sell. And then that won't be enough - I'll want it to be a huge success. And then I'll want one of those silver Newberry Award medals on the cover. And then I'll want whatever it is I'll want next. Nothing will be enough.

Mind the gap.

I'm crazy about Tea, but no matter how clearly she demonstrates that she feels the same way, I'm constantly on the lookout for disappointment.

Fill the gap.

And then there's food. I don't need to go into any detail about that one.

Mind it ... Fill it ... Whatever works (or doesn't).

I have a terrific day job (as far as day jobs go). I work limited hours doing something I like and get paid very well for it. That doesn't stop me from complaining, whining and trying to get out of it on a regular basis.

Nothing is ever enough.

It scares me. It scares me that the primary reason I despise neediness in others is that I'm often that person myself. It scares me that 43 years into the only life I'll ever have (Buddhist hopes aside), I'm still cycling through the same basic shit, still looking for ways to compensate for what's missing.

It may surprise you that I'm not unhappy as I write this. There is no dark cloud over my head. I'm merely frustrated, overtired, unnerved by the various states of limbo, and perhaps a little bit disappointed in myself.

My goal today is to embrace that which is good in my life - to appreciate what I can without worrying about what comes next.

The full Bosch work from which the top panel was taken.

Day 445: It's All Coming Back to Me.

Why I Moved to California - A Reminder (2007)









What's 's truly scary is that this is not a black and white photograph.

Day 444: Rinky Dink.

Bill discusses the finer points of rink management with Tina and Josephine.

One of the many things I love about Bill is his dedication to a project. Once he commits, he's in for the long haul.

It is for this reason that a winter puddle in the back yard has become the Marshall Family Ice Rink. No one has actually skated on the rink to date, but quite a bit of thought, discussion and preparation has gone into such an eventuality.

No matter how big a deal Bill has brewing - no matter how early his flight to New York City might be - he's out at the rink before sunup, Gucci loafers be damned, watering and smoothing his beloved ice.

There are also many mornings, according to Samantha, on which he'll call home from his travels and enlist one of the kids to go out and do the necessary watering. The kids are excited about the rink and happy to oblige - so far, Josephine and Tina have missed the school bus no less than three times because they were acting as human Zambonis.

I have been told that the rink is almost ready for use. Bill has the skates lined up, ready to go. It's supposed to go down to zero degrees Friday night, so the plan is to pour an inch of water after dark and let it freeze into a smooth surface layer.

The fact that the rink measures 10' x 20' is of no consequence to anyone involved.

It is good to be here.