zuiko

today is from yesterday /  by admin

waiting on brunch
Today was spent with my past. After receiving a phone call earlier this week about a hurried attempt for a family reunion, we made the hour and a half drive to be outdoors, sit in lawn chairs under big shade trees, and spend time with people that I haven't seen for decades, some since I was a child. I'm unsure what was more satisfying, the wonderful and genuine conversations or the numerous tables lined with dishes upon dishes of home cooked foods. So many of these people seemed exactly the same as when I'd last seen them. Both the food and the people were comforting, real, and a gathering of numerous yesterdays. 
I listened to stories of hardships and illnesses, each of which all closed with faith, hope, recovery, and a smile. There was talk of joys, proud graduations, new marriages, and others of decades long. I met the children of the children of the children that I use to play with each summer at the river and shared meals and laughter with at all of those winter holiday family gatherings during my youth. 
The pace of our society and our hurried lives make it awfully easy to put off attending an event like today. It was one of those personal moments of reflection and I am so happy to have taken the time and initiative to spend the day with my family from my yesterday. Although I rarely see these kinfolk, they've all contributed to my life, and good or bad, each can take a smidgen of credit for me being me.

Gathering with all of the grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers, sisters, and children of the children made me feel like I was a kid again…just forty years older. 

a promised reprise /  by admin

lights on in apt 317
©2011 gary garbett.com

The next few days promise me a reprise from my regular routine. What I’ll be doing with the freedom of a clockwork schedule isn’t quite sure. There’s been an interest recently to obtain a few things in my life, some of which certainly seem a bit out of the norm. Whether they’re a flashback to days past, curiosities, or another stab at defining the make-up that makes me original is unclear. Nor are these quests a prerequisite to follow my path. Then again, maybe they are. Whatever the case, my potential future may very well involve a mood ring, an acoustic guitar, and a sock monkey.

Looking at the list, it makes me lean much more to the original theory than anything else. Beyond these goals, plenty of coffee, faded blue jeans, a bag of cameras, an occasional pair of shoes, and mess of damn fine music will make up the bulk of a week.

Every day I thank God for a lot of things. I think I’ll add relaxation to the list.

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.

remnants and tastes of irene /  by admin

©2011 gary garbett.com

The evening's reward from Sunday's hurricane Irene clean up included my variation of E.A.T.'s Roasted Corn salad; fresh picked tomatoes, grilled and bbq'd pork, vidalia, pineapple, orange pepper, and mushroom shish kabobs; brown rice mexicana; hot tortillas; and cervesas of choice.

Let mother nature reign. Bon Appetit Irene!