Thursday

Here's a blog for blogging's sake.

I'm wide awake and really should be trying to sleep, since I have to work super early tomorrow.

But for some reason I can't.

Maybe it's because I can still hear the kids next door playing outside.

Maybe it's because it's not dark outside.

Or maybe, maybe, it's because 8 p.m. is just too early to go to bed, not matter how early you were up this morning and have to repeat again tomorrow.

Spider-man

Have you ever taken the time to think of all the people you've ever known in the course of your life?

(If you haven't I encourage you to do so.)

It's incredible how many people come into our lives. Some you may forget, even though you promised to be friends forever. And with others, forever may have ended, but you'll always wonder about them.

One such person who was in my young life is a man I only know as "Spider."

Spider became a friend of our family after meeting my mom at the restaurant where she worked. He was a regular and soon he was a regular in our lives.

When asked, he told my sister and I he was called Spider because he wasn't afraid of anything. And after the time he put our goldfish on his tongue, we believed him.

I remember he liked to eat the french toast sticks from Carl's Jr. And I remember one visit he brought me a watermelon pencil case. We have an old picture of him on a boat, so I guess he liked sailing too.

I'm not sure when we lost touch with Spider. Maybe when we moved.

But years and years later, I saw him again.

It was Christmas Eve and I was going to college in Los Angeles. My roommates had chipped in and bought me a plane ticket so I could fly home for the holiday.

On the way home from the airport with my dad and grandpa, we decided to stop for some fast food.

I recognized him right away. He was sitting at a table. He was dirty and didn't look very healthy. But I knew it was Spider.

It was confirmed when my dad said, "Hello, Don."

He hugged us and we began to catch up on all the missing years. I could tell he was happy to see us.

Then he showed us how he had made the camper on the back of his truck into a nice home. He was very proud of his work.

Soon it was time to go and so we hugged him again and my dad gave him some money. Spider wanted to give us something too and so he gave us a big bag of shredded cheese. He also gave us his mailing address.

I wish I hadn't lost it, or at least used it before it disappeared.

Once we got into the car, I called my mom and the tears started flowing.

She tried to console me, explaining that that was the life he wanted to lead.

And maybe he always had and I was just to young to comprehend it.

I still think about him often and that fateful Christmas Eve. I wonder how he's doing, if he's healthy, or even still alive.

I wonder if I ever went back to that fast food restaurant just off the highway, if he'd be there.

Eating french toast sticks.

Drive thru

I have my best ideas when I'm in my car.

There's just something about being behind the wheel, the scenery whipping past, that just ignites my imagination.

In my car, I'm a rockstar singing my heart out to an adoring audience. In my car, I'm an explorer headed for my next adventure. In my car, I've written best-selling novels and award-winning screenplays. In my car, I'm a philosopher having serious discussions with God.

I've really come to cherish the time I spend in my car. Maybe because it's the one place I can go to be alone.

Alone time is important. Because who else wants to hear me sing at the top of my lungs?