Notes from a wedding

Random thoughts from this weekend:

  • One of James’ groomsmen went to school from an early age with John Cena.  Apparently, he’s a really nice guy.
  • The B&A Warehouse has a grits bar available for parties and wedding receptions.  If you ever invite me to something at B&A and don’t offer the grits bar, I will protest.  Loudly.  Hungrily, even.
  • Rawlins (the bride) looked beautiful.  I finally realized why I’ve had a crush on my little brother’s girlfriend for years and years — the uncanny resemblance to Tina Fey.
  • I guess in a town this small, it’s no real surprise to eventually cross paths with a given group repeatedly, but there was a whole lot of Indian Springs in my weekend.
  • Wade’s new girl is pretty hot. Apparently smart, and successful, too, but whatever.
  • Interesting cross: my brother, me, and his friends, and the bride’s family’s friends.  I kept hearing Billy’ Joel’s UPTOWN GIRL all weekend.  It was weird.
  • Having all three siblings and the parents in one place is way too rare, but maybe the more special when it happens.

Congratulations, James and Rawlins.  You guys deserved every minute of it.

Eyes Forward

I was never much good at goodbyes.

I made this statement the other night to a friend of mine at the bar, sort of a warning statement.  Her uncle had just died, and I was letting her know that — I think not so much due to any sort of autistic or social-custom unawareness, but more owing to my acceptance of death (some would say my inability to attach to anything or anyone) — while I’m good at being “strong” (it’s not really being strong if it doesn’t bother you, though, right?) for others, I have a tendency to say inappropriate things.

Like, really inappropriate.  Moreso than usual — not that what I’m saying is wrong, but my timing, she could use a little work. So, usually, I say nothing, because it’s safer.

It’s a bad combination of having a really black, often tasteless sense of humor, and being perfectly okay with the idea of death.  Mine, yours, my wife’s and siblings’ and friends.  It’s gonna happen to us all, sooner or later, so why not be okay with it?  Appreciate what you have while you have it instead of wasting your time obsessing about the inevitable unknown.  And it’s not a religious thing at all — while I imagine that this is the one life we’ve got, who am I to say?  Maybe the Hindus are right, maybe the Christians are, and maybe there’s something awaiting us that no one has even conceived of yet.  No, I’m just okay with what I know.

I’m not the only one.  I’m sure that there are different reasons, a different source of being okay with it (probably spiritual), but I know that there are others who are capable of detaching themselves from those in their lives, of realizing that you were you before they came into your life and you can continue to be.  People that would rather celebrate the lives that touched theirs instead of dwelling on what they’ve lost.

(Some of this  probably sounds unnecessarily harsh, and probably tinged with a little Asperger’s; I’m not implying that people that mourn or have difficulty continuing on after the loss of a loved one are weak or otherwise inferior.  But I am aware that my words read that way; I’m just tired of wrestling with what I’m trying to say to change it again)

I walked/drove away from the memorial service for my friend Jill on Saturday a week ago, and I wasn’t down, or wistfully nostalgic, or any of the usual states that you might associate post-memorial/funeral.  In fact, I felt really good about life.  The service was a celebration of Jill’s life, a recounting of stories about what made Jill special, mentions of everything that she had to overcome and how she never gave up or looked away from the future, even until the end.

It was very life-affirming, to be uncharacteristic.

The one thing that stands out to me, that Dave repeated a couple of times, was that Jill didn’t want to be remembered for having Leukemia or Guillain Barre syndrome.  And it’s hard, sometimes, to not remember people as they were at the end — cancer victim, suicide, murder victim.  I’ve known many people who have died, and many of them still come attached to a label of finality, at least on the surface. But I suspect that – more than anyone I know – I won’t relate Jill to Leukemia, but rather a forward-looking strength and perserverence that allowed her to appreciate life more than far too many more circumstance-fortunate people that I’ve known.

Midnight Sun


When you have a screwed up (at least, according to the norms of the world) sleeping schedule, the idea of a day that doesn’t end for weeks doesn’t really seem all that disorienting.  Watching Stellan Skarsgård (and, later, Al Pacino) increasingly lose hold on their touch with reality always puzzled me.

I used to have dreams of driving through parts of town with friends long absent. The sun said high noon, but the radio announcer’s voice said it was 2 AM, and the music that followed always sounded like a midday dream.


  • Topics ideas?
    • Speculation
    • Condition -> Value
    • Saving for bigger things
    • Trading (barter)
    • Supply and Demand
    • Short term vs Long Term
    • Enjoying the Investment
  • Need outline.
  • Possibly find an economics expert?
  • History / bio introduction
    • Rebecca’s store in Dothan
    • skull fracture / grocery bag of Janice’s husband’s comics
      • X-Men #98, Green Lantern/Green Arrow
    • spinner racks
    • Murv / Great Escape on Broadway
    • Curious George’s
    • recession of ’08-’09 / mention of comics as recession proof investment

Need inspiration?

The world is filled with magic and miracles.  You don’t have to look for the Virgin Mary’s face in a flood-scarred wall.  Just look to doctors that figure out ways to rebuild the severe physical destruction of domestic abuse, and the human spirit that perseveres and pushes on, and can still laugh.

If you can’t find inspiration in this, you’re less human than public perception of me.  And if you can watch this and still complain about your life, then eat a steaming bag of cancerAIDS and go watch Twilight again.


Eine Kleine Nachtmusik

KI by Devin Townsend:

Days alone, never felt like this
The lights of home, a year away
And it’s too late to fight it all, just drive.
And the streets…glow…and the night…
The night is soft


And it’s all inviting
as anyone could ever know
and this warm collective we endure…
We endure and pass the motive
We endure and pass the moon.
We endure and pass the moment
We endure.
We endure and pass the motive
We endure and pass the moon.
We endure and pass the moment
We endure.

So we fall on warm silence
I know we all go away.

The new album – titled KI, also, is available in June.  Order it.  You won’t be sorry.