Autumn

It’s definitely that time again.  That season for pumpkin-spice lattes with extra foam and a dash or two of cinnamon has finally returned.  It's that time for brisk evening walks with the family atop crunching leaves beneath your feet and skies peppered with kites, Friday Night Lights, and late evening bonfires with a hint of cherry wood in the air and the perfect coals for roasting a Hebrew National or two two chased with slightly toasted soft puffs of collected sugar represented gleefully in Ghostbusters by a jolly white stay-puft giant atop a melted chocolate square and as our young friend from the sandlot might say, "placed upon the graham".  We have but only a few weeks remaining to enjoy the sharply manicured lawn in the hammock with the family dog at our side and our beloved in our arms while the kiddos race through the piled leaves towering high in a heap of laughter and wonder and all the while, Grandma labors away with love the beautiful process of canning the garden salsa grown just a few feet away from the hammock;  time for Buffalo Trace and vinyl and a vintage Rocky Patel with in the study accompanied by a round table discussion of the philosophy of time travel with style and then some in a DeLorean designed by a crazy, wild-eyed scientist, while layering a mesh of threads colored in rust, brown and paisley button down wrapped with a crisp bow tie and a quarter zip underneath a chalk stripe notch lapel jacket with a contrasting pocket square and a bright lapel pin. 

It’s time to go sockless with a pair of well-worn, horse-buckle Allen Edmonds and your choice of torn denim while she steals your favorite Saturday sweater for date night to your restaurant after a another memorable day with the family to the apple orchard for a pumpkin hunt, caramel popcorn, and candy apples .  It is the perfect time of year for the feel of a leather bound book in your hand while turning the silk pages one by one while relaxing in an adriondack chair with a fresh cup of Dean & Delucca on the stand nearby atop a crisp green lawn with the Olde English Sheepdog a few paces away soaking in the mid afternoon sun and a choir of birds lift their song in ambience.

    The air circling the neighborhoods become thick with the echo of families singing campfire songs around a fiery orange glow and small stripes of smoke can be seen from the drive-in movie theater as you await the double feature accompanied by a large cooler filled with goodies and a brand new frisbee.

    This is the very time of year when you can roll the window down and feel the cool breeze against your face traveling down the highway with the warmth of the engine air on your feet and Phil Collins on the stereo.

    It is absolutely that time once again to warm up, cool down, chill out, kick back, soup up, gear up, relax, chillax, take 5, take a break, take a breather and enjoy for before too long we will ask one another in the month of December, a little more than a month away, "where has the year gone, and when will summer arrive," but then again...that's just my humble opinion.

The Wee Small Hours

The world is fast asleep and yet there you are...awake, and perhaps for no other reason than to enjoy a few moments of absolute peace. The crickets outside murmur a low hum which can barely be heard through the open window cracked ever-so-slightly allowing the cool, evening breeze to wisp inside as you curl your feet under your legs, Indian style, wrapping the rest of you in a fur blanket, turning the floor heater on low and pulling your macbook close in anticipation for genius to strike at any moment...as it normally does about this time.

For some, the wee small hours are a time of utterly-painful memories as they reach for a loved one who once lay beside them with a gentle body heat radiating a sigh as the two crept closer in the mid winter chill, but that side of the bed has since grown cold as their loved one of many years has passed leaving tears of joy, heart-ache, and emptiness. But, for others, these precious few moments come with a whirlwind of ideas for their next art project, millian-dollar start-up, or infamous, blog post. The family is fast asleep, the fridge just kicked off, and all that remains are the crickets just a few feet away and a hurricane of ideas waiting to be caught by those patient enough to wait for them. You crack your knuckles, sharpen the number 2 writing instrument with the 7" chef's knife until it screams uncle, power up your iPad and caress the edges until the first idea rears its beautiful head from the muck and the mire of a long, strenuous day filled with noise and distraction.

Artists seem to function best at night, do they not? Or perhaps early in the morning, but that of course is after a long night of vinyl and incense to kindle the creative juices from their dull, charcoal-like slumber and awaken the fire which went dormant mid-day. Have you found yourself at a road block? Do your friends have to bring you back from the white screen of death or crippling pressure of a blank canvas with a few hand waves or smelling salts under the nose? May I recommend searching for your muse at a different time of the day? Some folks seem to strike the proverbial gold after a good nights rest and their favorite cup of Joe early in the morning. Again, it's quiet. The hustle and bustle of the day has yet to hit the ground running. Most households are still in dreamland and after the sleep you may not be so encumbered by the day's activity, work, etc that your energy is drained and by 8pm you can barely stay awake long enough to make fun of the spoiled brat trying to carry a tune as the next American Idol, and would otherwise not even had made the journey if he hadn't been lied to all their life by their biased mother causing the tone def child to simultaneously be delusional and entitled.

Still, there are many who by 10pm are just getting their second wind and suddenly they are ready to go another 5 or 6 hours on the cuspin of the adrenaline rush that comes with the prospect of a sharply written paragraph, business plan, or sketch of the best ever leather bomber jacket. While artists and designers should never discount the difficulty and sacrifices made which come from weeks and weeks of life invested into numbers and projects in a closed board room producing valuable data from which companies, cities, and nations are built. Likewise, can we offer the same grace to those who sit in coffee houses, lofts and city parks who pour over white paper and blank canvases creating, promoting, writing, drawing, sketching, coloring, folding, erasing, thinking, singing, praying, believing, dreaming, and doing? It is probably a good thing to keep in mind that the same space created for those who sing, dream, and dance was also designed for others who crunch, calculate, and build, but...then again...that's just my humble opinion.

The Best Wardrobe

     I was traveling in to my office the other morning under a 2 hour delay for surrounding counties due to fog and...well, weather.  The fog was beginning to lift with the morning sunshine as the sunrise crept from behind the dense fog in an attempt to make an appearance.  The chill was thick in the air and the frost lay heavy on the ground like a tired old man.

     I peered to my right just in time to catch a gentleman wrapped in a heavy flannel coat and boots with hands tucked deep into his jean pockets standing next to what looked like a an over-sized blue marshmallow, but obviously a young child wrapped to the brim with winter wear resembling Ralphie's younger brother, Randy, from "The Christmas Story" (1983) standing no taller than his father's knees out in the slightly-blistering fall morning.  In a much-hurried world where we barely make time to brush our teeth, comb our hair, and grab a sliver of toast along with our morning cup of designer Joe before we make the commute to the office spending what once was 1/3, but has since pushed its way to 1/2 our life behind a desk in front of a box or perhaps traveling to another city/state to meet with other people who are sitting behind a desk in front of a box wishing we were back at home, but deluding ourselves into believing that we are doing all of this so that our young ones will "have everything that we never had" when at the end of the day, all they really want is for us to stand beside them at the bus stop in the cold dark of the morning and hold their hand.  Now, allow me to elaborate here before you begin yelling at the screen and throwing your coffee at the sink.  I am no spring chicken, and I fully realize that it is not always as simple as telling your employer that you need to be at home when your child arrives or that you will not be at work EVERY morning by 8am because your son or daughter doesn't get on the bus until then.  This, if nothing more, is homage to the few who both have the opportunity to invest that small amount of precious time in such things, and making the effort to do so.

     We wear so many different hats throughout the day that our head hurts by the time we return home.  Whether you are serving your community in the medical field, sales, or industry, you work your fingers to the bone and invest so much energy into perfecting your trade to...impress your boss, get that raise, surpass your coworkers, get noticed by the CEO, or maybe it's just because it is the right thing to do and you wish to be a good role model for the next generation, more specifically your own child.  I can think of no better wardrobe to wear, than that first of an honest and faithful Husband, but next to be a loving Dad, who will NOT sacrifice what little time we have with our kids for a few more hours at the office.  Have you ever heard someone's last words be, "Oh, if only I would have spent more time...at the office."  Clothes are nice and projecting a certain positive image is great, but when it comes to your kids, nothing compares to wearing the name tag, "Dad", but then again...that's just my humble opinion.