I have often said, that if there is a god then, it is a woman
who insisted I be born so that she could satisfy
her wonderful sense of humor by laughing at
the wild things this 'nut case' has done with his life.
Stories, tales, poems and anecdotes tell of our experiences in this life. They have been oft-told over camp fires, on long road trips, sometimes with the help of alcohol to loosen the tongue and always with a bit of irony and humor at the crazy things done in the course of this life.
As a young child I thought of life as a set of dichotomies: joy and sadness; highs and lows; hot and cold; something found and something lost; understanding and misperception; hate and love; and on and on.....
As I aged and retold each story in my life I began to understand that life had those dichotomies and an infinity of shades of gray in between. I was learning.
As I reached the age of 'senior maturity' and reviewed and retold those same stories of a life well-invested and spent, I gained wisdom from some moments of my life. I began to relax in the realization that not only were the stories real but they were also a fiction. The fictional aspects resulted from my own misperceptions and were convoluted beyond recognition of objective truth by the perceptual filters of my mind. I could revisit the same memories and achieve different learning.
I discovered that my memories had voids. I retold the same stories, but realized that I had totally missed the fact that I did not know something at the time of the event that would only later make itself known to me. That unknown element and the fact of not knowing that I didn't know the unknown - or even imagine that it existed - was sometimes like a sudden splash of scalding hot water in my face.
Some voids became filled as a result of those scaldings. Some voids were from long-suppressed memories of events too painful to ever want to recall. These voids and their re-emergence in my storytelling became a thematic tool; a theme that I will 'out' in some of the stories. Once rediscovered and 'filled', these voids made the story even richer with learning, for the very fact that I had lived sometimes for decades with a mistaken sense of reality.
Enjoy the stories. Hate them. Learn from them. Dismiss them. They are not about you. And they are about everyone. They may not reflect who I think I am. But, this much, I believe, is true; they are stories of a person who once lived and live long enough to enjoy the freedom, the privilege, to laugh at himself. To die laughing is my goal in life!
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