Vista View

Vista View

At the edge, I close my eyes, I breathe and listen. It's calm and tranquil.
I do this - Because I can.

I open my eyes. It's beautiful. It's as I imagined.
I do this -Because I can.

And then, if no one’s around, I yell, the "Tarzan-Call" as loud as possible.
It's not perfect, it’s kind of funky and detracts from the moment
…But, it's who I am.

And I do it, because I can.

Mel Judsen

A long, long time ago...



One Thanksgiving; the family was sitting around talking old sports stories with friends. Dad started talking about Mel Judsen and about what a great athlete he was. He said, “I used to love watching Mel play football. He could hit people so hard. Boy, was he good.” And then he would say, “I remember when he played baseball, Boy was he fast." And then he said, "I remember going to the baseball park just to watch Mel play baseball. Boy, could he throw that ball.”


And then I said, “You know Dad, I was on Mel’s’ team.” And he said, “Oh, well, I used to like to watch you play too.”



It was funny.

A Day to Remeber

A long, long, time ago...

As a child, we used to wander the hills of Marin County in search of adventure. One day, my friend and I were on an expedition for snakes and lizards. An exploit that would take us to one of the many small reservoirs hidden in the hills of Marin.
This was a day in which I will always remember.

As we climbed the road to the top of the Dam, there were several families standing at the edge of the lake; cautiously staring at a group of older boys, who were pelting the tin roof and sides of the delapetated wooden spill-well with rocks. It appeared, as though they'd been drinking and didn’t care much about anything, except the loud bang! the rocks made as they hit the tine roof.

My friend and I figured we could slip past them if we just kept to ourselfs, minding our own business. In retrospect, this probably wasn’t such a good idea. As we neared the rowdy group, they begin to yell, “Catch-em! See if they can swim!” We ran for the horse trail. While I was running, a rock hit me in the head and sent me to the ground. I was bleeding. We ran home.

At the same time we got home, my dad was pulling up in his car. He was driving the green Volkswagen. My father, a High School Teacher, and Coach, was dressed in his wing tip shoes, slacks, white shirt and tie. He stepped from the car and I told him what happened. He checked my head and said, "You'll be fine." Then sent my friend home and told me, “Get in the car, and take me to these boys!”

Walking up the hill, the same hill I'd left an hour ago, it was difficult keep the pace with Dad. every step he would take, I had to run a little, skip and hop just to keep in stride. Once at the top, we could here them - and they were still throwing rocks.

Ignoring the crowd, dad walked straight ahead. Even as rocks flew over our heads, he walked. It wasn’t until we were directly in front of the boys, did they acknowledge us and I thought, how odd and disrespectful this was and I was surprised that they weren't scared of my father.

My father spoke first, saying. “My son was hit in the head by a rock. Which on of you threw the rock?” It was a direct question and I suppose, if you knew my father, it would be in your best interest to reply with a direct answer. But of course, they didn’t know him and so there was no response. He asked again. “Which one you threw the rock?”

A frizzy haired boy, who stood in the middle of the group, stepped forward, and said. “Old man, there’s six of us, and only one of you, what are you gonna do about it?” And I thought, WOW – I’ve never heard anybody talk dad that way.

Dad looked at me and smiled, turned and faced the boys and then - BOOM!!!

Just like lightning, he hit that boy so fast and real hard too. He hit him smack-dab in the center of his chest, it sounded like thunder, loud enough to send ripples across the lake and loud enough to here a roar of approval from the crowd that gathered at the other end of the dam.
The boy flew over the bench, tumbled down the rocky hill and lay motionless at the bottom.

And then, dad said, “Now, there’s-five.”

It’s a day I will always remember.

Daydreamer

Day Dreamer

Just outside the cabin, in a small clearing, I sit in silence; waiting for the morning sun. Slowly, she rises from behind the mountain, and with each breath of light, summons wilderness to dawn.
Down from the mountain, a calm, gentle summer wind whispers through evergreens that tower rivers’ edge; while cool, mountain water flows over rocks, polished by her course. And like the thousand years before, the river sends soft ripples to shore. Pausing in the shadows, she silently moves on.
In the distance, a morning dove coo’s a melody in percussion with the sweet sound of a Mockingbird, and together they chime a romancing ballad, harmonizing wind and river. And just beyond the glade, in a meadow, a doe strolls with fawn, in silent-dance, taking heed of their presence and regard for their purpose in nature’s symphony.


Just then, a loud obnoxious BLAST! …Beep! Beep! A car honks! My mobile phone rings! And a jet flies overhead. Simultaneously, my eyes fly open, feet hit the floor. My mind discharges lame excuses for absence from, WHO - KNOWS – WHERE! “Hey daydreamer,” a familiar voice yells from the street. “Snap out of it. We’re late.” My body responds with reactive contortions, adjusting quickly to the call of reality. Hastily, I don my techno-face, grab the half-soaked paper from the unmowed lawn and squeeze into the car. “Oh well,” I shrug, shedding my melodic mood and fantasy of a cabin in the woods, “I guess its back to the grind.”

Family Practice Policy

This memo is in response to a memo we received from our sons high school with regards to sporting events practice and game policies. I in turn re-wrote it to express our concerns over "Family Practices."

If you plan on practicing or playing in a sporting event during a family vacation or holiday, subsequently bailing (“bailing on your team” is the terminology the AD/coach used in his memo to the parents) on your family, including your Papa, Nana, Uncles, Aunts and Cousins, which by the way, you do not see very often, please keep this in mind.

Given our work schedules, combined with our limited company’s vacation plans, schoolwork, school holiday schedules and sporting events; it has become increasingly difficult to find the time to Practice Family. Both your Father and Mother work very hard and need to take a vacation when time permits. Therefore if you choose to attend a sporting practice or event during a planed vacation; consequently bailing on everything that is really important, you will lose out on the following:

Jumping off the top of Diana and Rainbow Falls, swimming at the Dam, riding the quads, playing baseball and football with all your Uncles, Aunts, and Cousins, sleeping outside, hiking to the gold mind, shooting the pellet gun, driving without a license, sitting down to eat with forty people who love you very much. Playing card games, building forts, chasing wild pigs and making the biggest Bonn-fires you’ll ever see. Also, keep in mind. Unlike your school sport programs, during family vacations you are guaranteed unlimited playtime irrespective of your athletic ability. However, on occasion it will be required to collect wood for the fire, to keep Uncle Greg warm throughout the night.

If you should choose to attend a sporting event instead of a “Family practice”, you will NOT lose our respect or your standing within the family. We love you and understand how difficult it is to choose between your coach, teammates and family. We do; however, feel that it is unfortunate that time could not be set-aside for both - after all that’s why we have Holidays. I have always said, “My greatest memories as a child, my most vivid recollections are not those of practices and or games, but rather vacations I spent with family and friends.

Student Athlete signature: _______________________________________

Parents: _______________________________________

I’ve been-there and done-that. When a policy is written such that it forces our child to choose between his Family and his Sport; it puts our son between a rock and a hard place. Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to acknowledge that family is important, and recognize this value within your policy and not schedule practice for the day after Thanks giving?

The Cabin and The Moon

It was a cold winter’s night. From the cabin window, my son watched the moon fill the night sky. A fresh blanket of snow covered the ground. The wind howled, through cracks in the walls, like wolfs in the distance. The fire, warm, kept the vision of cold outside. It was a picture of simplicity, life in black and white, enchanted by his imagination. I envied his thoughts and put them to words.


Moon Daddy, Moon.

...Listen to the night wolf cry.
As winters moon fills the sky.

Her light cast down on new fallen snow.
The river iced, her banks a glow.

While Angels dance at rivers edge,
A child whispers this silent pledge,

“In my eyes of winters past,
Let the moon-lit night forever last.”

Judgment

I try not to judge people based on their political, social, spritual and or religious points of view. Rather, I choose to judge people based on my political, social, spritual, and or religious points of view. I don’t know - just seems to work out better that way.