It is currently 9:16PM here in Massachusetts.
The countdown is on as are The Three Stooges.
2011 was a year to remember for many reasons and a year to forget as well.
As I get older the passing of time seems to take on less significance than it once did.
Seems it should be the opposite but personally it’s just another year.
Another chance to get it right, another chance to possibly mess the sombitch up.
The house is warm and filled with all sorts of wonderful food and drink.
Jonathan (Sarah’s fiancee) and I just got done smoking a very nice cigar on the deck and for the moment life is good.
Hopefully 2012 will be as good as tonight seems to be.
I wish all of you peace, joy and more happiness and good fortune than your lives can reasonably handle.

For myself, I ask for the grace and peace of the One high above me;
To do more for others than I do for myself,
To smile more than frown,
To love deeply and give freely,
To find the words that move me and the music that inspires me,
and to finally give myself a break for a change.
I am too damn hard on myself.
A few sent angels would be nice as well.

So Happy New Year to you, my dear friends.
Thank you for making my life so worth living.
Here’s to another year of whatever it is that makes all of us tick . . .

~m

~m

ps. Thanks to my friend GerryM for the video link!

I am blessed to have a place called home where I am loved,
where I can be myself,
somewhere that’s much more than just a home.
I am richly blessed.
I thank the Lord and my many guardian angels for taking such good care of me,
a disciple that sometimes feels unworthy of the many blessings received but a devoted disciple nonetheless.
A Merry Christmas to all.
Happy New Year, too.
I wish each and every one of you peace.
See you in 2011 . . .

~m

I tend to go all indigo at this time of the year,
not for the laughs, and not for the seasonal tears,
I just go this funky shade of blue; no reason, no tears, no season, no fears . . . no.
And once again,
No.
It’s a seasonal dysfunction in need of correction,
a part of my life in need of direction,
in need of some indigo inflection and words that will never rhyme no matter what I do.
And I do.
Black. Obsidian. Shaft. Last.
Map of nowhere that I will ever be found.
It’s a yuletide cave of sorts; one that’s long, dark and godforsaken for seasonal reasons that will forever elude me.
Indigo . . .
is simply bluer than blue
Like Me.
Merry Me.
Merry, merry, me, where intricacies of the heart are a silent but beautiful holiday accident   . . .

~m

‘Christmasness’ is just a silly word I made up for this post title.
I have successfully made it through another Thanksgiving and will now wade through
the infinite complexity of Christmas with all its meaningless verve and endless commercial fluff.
For me, this is a season that has lost all meaning.
Period.
A-freekin’-men.
I have automatically tuned out the Carpenter’s ‘Merry Christmas, Darling’ and Nat King Cole’s ‘Christmas Song’,
not because I don’t like chestnuts on an open fire but because these days the sentiment means very little to me these days in terms of spirit.
I’m not the first person to say that this holiday has gone commercial but it has
and I have a tough time participating.
That’s just me.
My fountain pens are loaded with some amazing inks and I will just write my way though the holidays.
It will not only calm me down but may take some of the Grinch out of me by the 24th.
Look for a post on Christmas Day.
Until then,
I wish all of you peace and multiple moments of crystal blue silence amidst
the [unnecessary and] perpetual seasonal noise.

Pax,

~m

ps. wanted to tag this post, “Dear Santa, I’ve been a very bad boy this year. 5 tons of coal should do,”
but it seemed a bit long . . .

It has been a crazy few months around here (hence, the reposts)
and I am still
desperately trying to get caught up and back to square #42.
By the time I reach ‘Square #1‘  it might be the name of a new high fiber breakfast cereal
that enables you to ‘pass’ wicker furniture out your keester like soft butter.
That said, thanks to all that have continued to stop by.
I have come to a turning point here at Smoke & Mirrors and can’t quite figure
out how to navigate the current seas. (hence, the current rambling post)

My original intention was for this place to be a ‘cyberpad’ to collect my many thoughts and
emotions as I watched both of my parents battle Alzheimer’s.
It was just that and so much more, truth be told.
I am still estimating the casualties physically and emotionally but have temporarily closed the door.
I will re-open said door at some point but for now it’s off limits as I’m still too close to it.
The Alzheimer monster is never far away though as it currently sinks its sharp teeth
into the life of my father-in-law.
This time things feel different if only because I know exactly what to expect.
It doesn’t make it any easier to watch the scenario play out but I’ve learned where
to store the emotional carnage.
I still fully expect to have the occasional  ‘son of a bitch, I hate this disease’ day but this time at least
I’ll be prepared.
Maybe even overqualified, IMHO.

I am still sorting out in my head the three weeks we spent with Maureen and Mark.
I have no idea where to even start;
“It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents–
except at occasional intervals,
when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets . . . “
Nope.
That would never do.
Check out the Wordle at the top of this post.
It is a very good rendition of not only my current state of mind but of three most incredible weeks of my life.
And it may explain just how crazy things have been around here.
Pamela and I now have our eyes solidly set on a 2 week vacation next July.
My boss gave me a thumbs up today on an extended sojourn to Australia so the planning can now begin.
As far as the blog is concerned, for now I’ll just play it by ear.
Lord knows as a musician I’m used to that . . .

Happy Memorial Day folks.
Please don’t forget to thank a soldier today.
At the very least, pray for one.
Lighting a candle here . . .

Some thoughts from many years ago (2006)
Seems like yesterday . . .

We had my father over for Easter dinner on Sunday.
My sister wanted to pick him up and bring him over; something I believe she had to do.
I think she fears there won’t be many more left to share.
Sadly, I would have to agree.
Actually, I would have agreed over a year ago.
I have to give her credit for going through the rigmarole of getting him ready,
seated safely in the car and bringing him over to our house.
I’ve been there, done that and bought the t-shirt.

My father has a difficult time walking these days reminding me more of Charlie Chaplin than the man I once called “Dad”.
It’s an unfortunate physical side effect of a brain at war with total neurological disintegration.
We eventually got him into my living room and plopped him down in my favorite chair:
one, because the chair is just so damn comfortable
and two, because when we finally let him go, it would be impossible for him to miss it.

We all sat down to eat and my sister and I filled his plate with ham,
green beans and Au gratin potatoes, all of which we cut up into pieces to make it easier for him to feed himself.
And feed himself he did.
He ate everything on the plate.
Either my cooking was really good that day or where he’s currently staying is really bad.
Whatever the case, it was wonderful to see him enjoy a meal.
He didn’t speak a word as he ate.

My wife caught him stabbing at an empty spot on his plate.
She gently rotated his plate to where the food was and he was none the wiser.
Mission Accomplished.

The rest of the afternoon went off without a hitch.

After eating, we ushered him back to my chair where he fell asleep; perhaps shuffling through his own little world of monochromatic movie screens and silent dreams . . .  a sleeping Charlie Chaplin.

We woke him an hour or so later and got him back into the car.
As I fastened his seat belt, I looked at him as he peered over the rims of his glasses and I said,
“No Boston Marathon for you tomorrow, young man.”

I’m sure he didn’t understand a word I said but knew enough to do a little chuckle and mutter, “Yeah”.

He plays the game so well most days so why the hell can’t I?

For me, the Easter cupboard was somewhat threadbare in terms of holiday revelations
and personal epiphanies but I did get to marvel over the way my Dad still gets through his days.
In many ways, he’s graceful in a way I may never be.
As long as his surreal movie keeps playing,
I’ll continue to watch him as he shuffles through his seemingly silent and black and white world,
just like Chaplin.

~m

I have no clue as to where the year went but it went and here we are.
As you embark on many new journeys and adventures,
I wish all of you peace and much love in the coming year.
2010 holds many things, some expected and some not so much.
What the year holds for me is anyone’s guess.
I see good and I see some bad.
That’s life I guess.
For all that have visited and commented here over the past year,
I thank you from the bottom of my sock.
Somehow ‘my heart’ doesn’t seem quite deep enough. 
Happy New Year!

ps.
and yes, this post is up at 9AM E.S.T  
Why, you ask?
It’s New Years Day in Australia right now!
Goodonya!