The death of a moon cowboy

I am a somewhat-youth with ideas and thoughts and too many dreams that sometimes overflow as these little dribblings from my fingertips. I guess you can try to collect and capture them.


Monday, September 12, 2005

Weakened for the weekend

A milestone in the atmosphere of my life: Jarom went to his first day of preschool. Well, it's preschool by name but perhaps pre-preschool by definition. And he did well, I hear. I'm just bustling up inside with proud-father excitement, but it's also somewhat sad.

My first-born, my sole son, making his way into the real world and the social maze that surrounds us. Before now, he has been truant to it, a happy-go-lucky baby soul, free of worries or burden or responsibility, learning by his mother's side by day and by both parents' sides by nite. Now, though, he will be subject to schedule, routine. He'll learn the behaviorism of society through cliques and classes and camaraderie. There will be bullies and underdogs, tears and torment and accomplishments. And all of this will flow by so quickly, so hastily, while I continue to work and school myself and speed-walk over the pavement that borders the road of life, missing perhaps everything of value to me. The years pass so quickly. And I'm only 25 - 25 years old, that's nothing. That's a blip. A goof, a joke, a universal murmur. But it's life to me. And there's much to do, as usual. Much to be learned and people to pay and shelters to buy and roads to travel and words to arrange and tears to cry and smiles to smile and such stuff.

That's enough of this for now.

Audio: Absolution|Muse
Video: Le Fabuleux destin d'Amelie Poulain (Amelie) [2001|Jean-Pierre Jeunet]
Text: The Road to Los Angeles|John Fante

1 comment:

Reluctant Conquistador said...

i'm proud of jarom too, his godfather loves that little punk.