black and white

zen of an american road trip /  by admin

©2011 gary garbett.com

Taking a road trip is one of my favorite things in the world. I'm sure it harkens back to the days of my childhood when my family would pack up the station wagon and journey through America. With my father's career as a Navel Officer, we did our share of long distance road travels every couple of years, in addition to our countless summer vacations of camping. I have vivid memories of viewing the country from the backseat of Dad's authentic Detroit made automobiles, especially his 1968 turquoise Gran Torino. With the windows rolled down and the wind whipping in a little faster than the posted highway speed, it was spectacular.

We made the 4000 mile plus drive across the entire United States from coast to coast at least four times, including a 1300 mile jaunt along the Alaska Highway, back when it was just a two-lane gravel and dirt road and long before there was ever a thought of paving it. We reached our destination late that summer in Anchorage searching for the ferry departure to Kodiak and for a carwash to remove the heavy coating of red clay covering Dad's Ford.

Seeing America from the road has always been a Zen like experience for me. I find a centering peace in the miles of memory, beauty, and the numerous hand painted signs for Mom and Pop type stores that read "just ahead".

casting days /  by admin

©2011 gary garbett.com

Fishing holes and calendar days are incredibly similar. Despite having a plan for either, the events of the experience are never really certain. There have been days where I exceeded my daily limit before 9AM. Others weren't as rewarding and I've even lost my bobber on some. The splendor of days is that I can always cast my line again tomorrow.

dependent on independence and cookies /  by admin

©2011 gary garbett.com
As I've become older, my day to day has become busier, yet simple and my value of time is more precious than ever before. Days have never been long enough, though I make a daily effort to achieve the almighty time management balance with a far too long to-do list. This isn't a new discovery, just the facts of my independent, over achiever; need to be better than yesterday character.

My dogs are independent as well. Sort of. At least until I wake up and greet them in the morning, or when I walk in from my day at the office when they happily welcome me home, or until they hop into the truck for a ride through the countryside to the landfill, or until they become my dedicated kitchen helpers. They also have a tendency to loosen their independent nature just after letting them out before I call it a day and head to bed for a few hours of sleep. After doing their business, they rush back in from the star filled darkness and the chirping of crickets as I close and lock the door behind them. Sitting patiently near their cookie jar, side by side, they wait for my goodnight talk followed by their regimented peanut butter biscuit.

Independence has its moments and I bask in them often. At other times my independence seems to include others. This happens to make it not nearly so busy or even independent. The balance is welcomed.

ticking clocks of passion /  by admin

©2011 gary garbett.com

Juliet's Romeo, Martin Luther King, my brother, Charlie Chaplin's Tramp, a scarecrow, Neil Young, the soldier.

Men of passion leave pages behind in history books, diaries, and liner notes; hold the hand of those in need; think differently but creatively; offer yes ma'am and sir without hesitation; are caregivers; believe in today; make mistakes but understand the importance of an apology. They dance; are quiet; prosper by thinking; understand the drawn out bugle call of Taps; make a difference in someone's life; have written a love note or two, maybe even three… and have hopefully delivered at least one. They welcome opinions; have plenty to share; cry; create an event from the average; and whisper quietly.

My life has been fully engaged by them, though most I've never even met. Those who happen to cross my path however, I hope will know differently.

61 mph and her name /  by admin

©2011 gary garbett.com

It's been nearly two years since my mid century mark and the celebratory used MINI Cooper purchase for having survived and lived that long. I've never had more people ask, "what's her name?" than with any other car I've ever owned. As if I don't have other things to be concerned with in my life, I've spent numerous hours over the past two years attempting to have an answer for the next person that asked. Nothing ever seemed quite right. In the mean time, the nameless six speed silver bulldog rests most days, sometimes months, under a car cover for fear of getting dusty.  Yes, I'm just like that and I never wanted her to be an everyday car. She's special and I plan to keep her that way. Now that I'm older and everyone has their day to day life to live, I have several friends that are kinda like that car. I rarely see them, but when I do, it's always a special reunion. The biggest difference is that all of my friends have names. She still doesn't.

With summer winding down, my 6AM morning commute today couldn't have been much better. It included a rare drive in the MINI, a hot cup of freshly brewed coffee, an open roof with stars and a crisp breeze, and a stellar soundtrack from the cd that I picked out as I headed towards the door, Derek and the Dominos. That was it. The stars aligned at 61 mph while I sang to the Clapton classics, pausing only for another sip from the steaming mug and to turn up the volume a notch or two. Hell, maybe even three. The wait was over and she finally has a name. Layla.

Perfect, now to find a project for my upcoming year 53.