Casey's Just Sayin'

So I stayed off social media for the summer, which is my SOP. It was not a good summer. The fires were unprecedented and before that the heat was significant. A bit glad it’s over. Throughout the summer, I’d periodically write down one thought or another. For what it’s worth... here they are. Life is not a football game, it’s a garden.  Sometimes I smell on Sunday. Also I alliterate inadvertently.  A mystery coworker leaves puddles of water on the sink in the bathroom every day. Our failing patience may be the downfall of all civilization.  My body is less of a temple and more of an amusement park: one that is fifty years old and in need of repairs. Big trucks make me smile. Really big trucks make me laugh. If you don’t allow a man his deficiencies, you’ll never recognize his excellence.   People who scream “Get in the hole!” at golf tournaments suck. I cherish the simple joy of watching my son catch a fish. Tent camping ...

We are tent campers. If you camp, you already understand that there are different types of campers. There are cabin campers, a’la KOA. There are RV campers, a’la they can afford it. There are even yurt campers a’la “Duuuuude”. But we do the tent thing. It’s how we started when we were as poor as dirt, and... I’m sitting here at Patrick’s Point this Labor Day Weekend in the Abalone loop space #35. Nice little fire going. Kettle on the cook stove for coffee. Tent to my left. Tent to my right. Love all around. So I’m old now. Fifty. And this is and has always been difficult: get all the stuff, prepare and load everything up, drive three hours, set up the tents and the campground, get the fire going, sleep on something that is not my bed, break down, drive three hours, clean and put everything way, etc. But behind all of that activity, all the prep and clean up, all the monkey business, there is now a certain panicky mourning happening. I’m starting to wonder how many more...