Friday, January 14, 2011

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 3 Issue 1


I snap down and grab the 2 foot long white stick with black horizontal stripes and toss it towards Cuzin Art. The mountain striped stick snake hits Cuzin Art’s upper leg and he reacts like a veteran hiker. Screaming (just a little, man I hate snakes too cuz), jumping/running in place, and trying with all his might to escape the snake but not lose his footing as we were a good ways up the mountain. Still clutching the tree for support he looks down and realizes what’s been going on.

“Man, I haven’t been scared like that in awhile. I thought that snake was going for my sack man.”

At this point in our hike I had to sit down and gain my composure as I was laughing so hard at Cuzin Art I think I got a little light headed (hey we were like 8500 ft above sea level, plus I’m really out of shape). The old inanimate object throwing at your friend and screaming something scary trick, I can’t believe it still works.
If we were good (and when weren’t my brothers and I angels?) we would spend about a week every year on vacation with Stubby on the east coast somewhere. Being the mature and well adjusted family we are this meant a new territory for us brothers to torment each other. The hand-full-of-sand-crab trick was a family favorite and the inspiration for the mountain striped stick snake described above. Wading out in the water with my brothers the object was to bend down nonchalantly and grab a handful of wet sand, slowly bring it to the water’s surface, scream CRAB!!, and throw it against your brother's back and enjoy the screaming, hissy fit show. Watching one of your family members scared out of their minds on your account is just funny (unless of course you’re the victim, then everyone else is a dick).

I’ve spent the last two weeks on vacation (I know I’m on a sabbatical from life but still getting away is nice) up in the mountains, Denver…gorgeous. This was the first time I had visitied the mile high city since my first episode forced my move back home. I wasn’t sure what to expect when I landed there but I believed I’d find something there, maybe closure, maybe a new beginning, maybe peace with it all, maybe some answers.

My first stop was the toughest; it was the house I climbed when I was manic. My stomach fluttered as I pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant next to the house. I forgot just how tall it was and how steep its roof was. I walked around looking up and trying to remember how I climbed to the top (stairs were not an option, anyone can take the stairs). The support beam that I swung from that saved, if not my life at least some severe injuries, was still there and I still can’t believe how I didn’t fall off that roof sliding down it (somebody must like me up there).


Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

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