random

A couple of minutes ago, something prompted me to think of a happy memory involving a plane, and childhood. In an instant, I remembered my first plane flight. I was in 5th grade, and we went to Jamaica. As the plane reached cruising altitude, my ears really started hurting. I started to complain to my mom, and the lady sitting next to me turned to me and said, "go like this:" and she opened her mouth wide, like she was about to yawn. Without questioning, I did it and immediately my ears popped, sending relief through my head. I looked up at her and smiled.

About 25 years later, I was on a plane to France, and a little girl was sitting next to me. As we climbed to cruising altitude, she told her mother that her ears were hurting. Without thinking, I turned to her and said "go like this." We both opened our mouths wide, and then smiled at each other.

The seasons change

It is my brother's birthday today. I can only reach him by email these days, and since we rarely make contact with each other, I never really know where to begin when writing to him. So I started with the old standby: The weather. I told him I hoped that it was as nice where he is as it is here, and that we've lately had weather periods that vaguely resemble seasons rather than simply "Kinda cold" and "Boiling hot."
Then I mentioned that I'd been gardening lately, and realized that I really didn't have a whole lot else to report. Certainly, there are plenty of things going on in my life, mostly happy things, but for the first time in a while, I didn't have a laundry list of stuff I'm doing - plays, projects, work,...etc - to rattle off. It's not that I'm not doing these things, but it occurred to me that they're no longer occupying the lion's share of my brain. I've managed to create some silence in there somewhere. I've made room to hear the seasons.

And that made me happy.

Thanks, Gary.
Happy Birthday, Brother.