Summer of '86

A few weeks ago, Brandy over at Momwich.net (you should check her out, she is a riot, and and great Mom with a similar story) invited me to do a guest post on her blog. Of course I was honored to do so, and shared a little event that happened in my not-so-recent past, so I'm sharing that story here as well. Thank you again, Brandy!

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Sometimes there are events that happen in our lives that remain forever etched in our minds. We can conjure up those memories so easily – the sights, smells, sounds, and emotions – as if they were a movie that can be rewound and played back again and again to our heart’s content. Occasionally these memories are ones we wished we could forget, but cannot. Others we recall with much fondness, gratitude, and joy. All help define who were are and how we respond to similar events that arise in our future. Such was the case for me 26 years ago.

It was the summer of 1986. I was a junior in high school heading into my senior year. Much promise and eager anticipation of my future hung in the balance. I had just hung up the phone with my girlfriend moments before my parents returned home from the store. My eyes immediately began to swell with tears upon seeing their faces.

Running

Back around this time last year Alisha and I held a photo contest as a way to kick-off Defying Procrastination in hopes of generating some followers and showcasing Alisha's art. It's crazy to think how much Defying Procrastination has grown in that short span of time. Just last week DP hit the 40,000 page view mark.

I just want to take a moment to thank everyone who has taken the time to read and comment on my writing. It really means a lot to me, and inspires me to keep fighting off those procrastination demons so that I can continue to do what I love, and that is write.

Winners of the contest (1 Grand prize, 2 Runner ups) are getting their photo painted by Alisha and a complimentary short story or poem written by me. The theme is centered around photo's of shoes, since Alisha's specialty is painting life-like portraits of shoes (she can paint anything really). Hence the name of her gallery, Painting Life's Footsteps. We had over 60 entries. Today's post is the final product of one of the Runner-up winners, Shaun Temple of Birmingham, UK for his photo "Fila Footwear."

The Last Dance of the Lakota

The Native by Ron Monroe

Chief Ghost Wolf watched through pensive and blurry eyes as his people danced against the firelight, like they had done for as long as time remembered. Like blades of grass set in motion by the tranquil prairie winds, so too did the Lakota people sway in rhythm with the pounding of the drums and the enchanting cadence of the proud and once mighty tribe. Dressed in their elaborate and colorful traditions passed down through the ages, his people opened up their troubled hearts to the Great Spirit in the sky.

Shotgun and a Fist Full of Toilet Paper

Bathroom Stall by mirrormasked

I’m going to tread into a territory that I don’t normally go to on my blog, and that is “potty talk.”

Have you ever gone into a stall in a public bathroom, sat down, then noticed that the person next to you isn’t making any noise?

None. At. All.

No grunts, squirts, or plunges. No tugs on the toilet paper roll. No wiping. No snorting, chewing, or coughing. No tapping of their feet or snapping of their fingers. No clickity click sounds of their iPad or iPhone. No talking, humming, or singing. No moaning or slapping sounds. No sounds of their belt buckles, badges, pagers, or other belt accessories, brushing against the tile floor. No jingling of jewelry or beeps of their digital watches. No turning of pages or that familiar crinkle sound of a newspaper or magazine. No laughing or crying. No heavy breathing.

Nothing.

Dead silence.