A Life in Moments
Who What When Where and Why
If you could be anywhere in the world, in this era, or one past or future, where would you be?
Would you be yourself, would you be a world learder in 2076? A peasant in the middle ages? A movie star in the 50's? Or perhaps you would like to be your favourite celebrity for the day.
In our continual journey of life, we search for the definition of who we are, and who we want to be. This search for what makes us happy is an everyday struggle. We search for love, for success, for that one thing, or combination of things that will bring a smile of contentment, both inside and out. Sometimes, in order to understand where we going, we have to look back at where we've been and then take that information and progress forward. When the question is posed about where in time would we live, its true psychological meaning, in my eyes, falls into an exploration of what it takes to make us happy. What are the characteristics and morals of the era and setting that we choose, and how can we then relate them to our lives today in order to find what we are seeking?
My adaptation of things is a bit different, for I would not pick a specific era, time or place, but rather to revisit, relive and enjoy again, those moments in my past which brought me the greatest joy, and molded my life into what it is today. I would not change anything about who I have become, because like it or not, good or bad, each thing I've done has molded me and changing one bad thing may affect the good ones. Each decision made affects the next, and thusly molds and forms life into what it is today. Some decisions are right, others are wrong, but together they all form the quilt that is our life. Each second that passes is another stitch in that quilt; each individual memory and event makes up a patch. The patches that are sewn crooked are not redone but the error that caused them is hopefully corrected on a subsequent one. There are patches which standout, and those which blend into the background, each necessary to maintain the substance, but not as prevalent as the others.
There are six distinct memories, which standout amidst the rest. Each is unique in its details, yet similar in the effect that it has had on my life.
In Hot Water?
- Date: Summer 1971 My first clear memory was during a visit to Yellowstone
National Park, Wyoming. It was a
family outing; one of many that we took while my father was still
around. His family lived in Montana, and on the way to see them,
we would stop off Yellowstone, to do the touristy thing. It
wasn't my only trip there, I believe we went there again sometime
around 1979, but for some reason, this one sticks in my head. It
is the first vision that is clearly recollected in my bank of
memories. I was
walking down path, of wooden boards I believe. 
On either side of me were hot
bubbling pits. I'm not quite sure what they were, as I'm not to
this day. I remember bending down and extending my finger to
touch them, and being scolded to the contrary, then subsequently
pulled away to what I can only assume is safety. What does this memory mean, I'm not really
sure. But it is the clearest, and first one that I have. I'm not
sure why, with 4 years worth of events happening, including
learning to read, reading encyclopedias, spouting information,
family occurrences, birthday parties, and such, why this one
stands out. Maybe it typifies the cautious nature with which have
I always approached danger, but always needed someone there to
rescue me. Without someone there to tell me otherwise, I would
sometimes venture into dangerous waters, without thinking, then
subsequently reap the benefits or pay the consequences of said
results. These choices have formed what I am today, sometimes
reckless, but always learning.
Hiding Out -
Date: Spring 1974 - Let's
face it, school was about the last place we wanted to be on a
nice day. Concurrently, we feel the same way now about working on
days when we should be playing, but alas, playing hooky from
school or work, is not an easy task. Back then however, as a
creative minded child, I thought I had devised the perfect plan.
This happened sometime around 1975, at IXL Elementary School in my hometown. 
This is a map of the school, and its relation to my
house. As you can see, its a fairly short journey and fairly
easy, you would think, to sneak away. One day, that's just what I
did. During recess,
I would slowly wander down towards the ditch area near my house.
I would then lie there, wait for the sounds of playful jubilance
to subside, then just get up and walk home. Simple, of course,
possible, definitely, chances of getting away with it, absolutely
none. Somewhere in
my infinite wisdom, I failed to think through the fact that my
absence would be rather noticeable in the classroom. My
sensibilities were clouded, by the desire of the promised land,
the land of freedom, Hostess snacks, Batman and the Electric
Company. So it should come as no surprise to be called into the
principals office upon reappearance at school the next day.
Thinking quickly (obviously quicker than I thought when I hatched
the plan) I simply stated that I wasn't feeling well, and that I
was actually closer to my own house, than to the nurse's office,
so I just went home. This still didn't fly well, and for one of
the few times in my educational history, I was punished with a
stern reprimand and some silly little form of repayment. Why
would I revisit this one? Well, because it taught me that I must
think before I act, and that I must be ultimately responsible for
my actions. To this day, I still cast blame everywhere but on
myself, looking in that mirror of life and forgetting that only
my reflection will come back when I have to face the
repurcussions of my decisions.
Snow Day with The Blasting Agents - Feb 5-8, 1986 - This is one that deserves its own story, and indeed, I was working on it for a few years afterwards, but alas it got dissolved in buried in the madness of my growing into who I've become today. This experience is one that I hearken back to when I remember the funnest times of my life, this one tops the list. Reader's digest version coming, if anyone's interested, I may elaborate in a later entry. It was February, 1986 the spring before my high school graduation. We, as a class and social group, were restless about starting another step into the real world, and yet, we still wanted to hang onto the memories of high school. We had not yet defined that memorable event that each class usually has to remember at reunions for years to come. Small scholastic and athletic triumphs did not measure up to having that one fun memory, of a party or group event to hang on to. Ours came in the form of a church sponsored ski trip to a resort, and of course, religious retreat. There were about 15-20 of us from my graduating class, along with some from other age groups, who boarded a bus for a campground near the Monarch Ski Resort outside of Pueblo, Colorado. For 5 days, we were on our own, no homework, no parents, just a couple of relaxed guardians, and we were free to do as we pleased, with no intereference or worry from the outside world. We mingled, we skied, we bonded ( a group of 7 of us even created a story of our own rock band, The Blasting Agents, named for a warning placard put on vehicles carrying explosive items, complete with background story and tour dates) and we created a memory (and t-shirts) that would stay with us for the rest of our lives. The importance of this is obvious, it was the end of youth, the beginning of adulthood and responsibility and for those few days, we merged the two, living with the energy of a child, yet the independence of an adult, while escaping the travails of both. Upon our return, we coasted through the rest of our year and then went our seperate ways. We were never all in the same place at the same time again, but we always had the memories, the shirts, the slopes, the mall, the Cinderella-game, the inspirational lectures, the bus ride, and the true friendship and fun, to hang onto, for always. It reminds of carefree fun, good friends, good times and sheer escapism that is absent in the hustle and bustle of today's pressure filled world.
The Shield and The Storm:Answering Freedom's Ring - Date: Aug 1990 to Mar 1991 - This is another event that requires more space than available to tell. It was the first major life changing event of my adult life. The Gulf War was an event that affected, and is still affecting the lives of those involved and their loved ones. We were called to duty on a late summer day in 1990, following a month layover in Myrtle Beach, SC, we were sent to an Air Force hospital near the Kuwaiti border. None of us knew what we were in for, what we would experience, and when we would come home. Over the next 9 months, we would bond together as a group, as stressful situations will sometimes do, via games of Boggle, Rummy and Spades, shopping trips to local Arabic towns, dipping our feet in the cool Persian Gulf waters, bonding through a community and family environment, and through being 10,000 miles from home with the future of life and country in doubt. We survived numerous missile attacks, including one direct hit, prisoner of war transfers, bad radio stations, limited TV reception, and the general fear of the unknown which gripped all of us. By the time it was over, a couple of weeks before Easter, 1991, all of us were different people upon return. Never again would we be together, but in hearts and memories, we would always have that bond. The bond of survival, the bond of togetherness, the team spirit which kept our sanity and helped us survive. I don't know where most of my team mates and compadres are now but I know wherever they are, the memory of the Storm is still prevalent in their minds. Each of us has a different memory of historical events, the events have a differing effect on our lives. For those 9 months, we were a team, the Decon team, noone can take that away from us. The fun moments we shared can be regaled, but never relived or recaptured. I joked once, "Take away this war, shooting and missiles, and this would be a pretty fun time, although I don't know what we'd all be doing in the middle of the desert." I learned a spirit of appreciation for what I have, and what I've been given. We don't appreciate what we truly have, until it's taken away from us. This is a lesson that I live by, and revisit when it becomes blurred through my own selfish lifestyle.
And Like That *poof*, it's gone - Date: Apr/May 1997 - My life had already gone through so many changes. My military life had ended in September of 1994, I then floated back to Las Vegas and stumbled through jobs at a video store (that went under, due to less than scrupulous ownership) an automobile auction house (where I met the roommate in question) and finally another video store job at Hollywood Video with great upward potential. At the time, I had a good apartment, a nice car, no relationship, but some good close friends, and in general a good feeling about life. Little did I know that my whole existence at the time was perched precariously on an abyss, where one little breeze would send it careening out of control. That breeze came on a morning in late March. I had just completed a graveyard shift at the store, off at 6 am, had some breakfast, then home to unwind and relax. Then came the knock on the door, nothing to be suspicious of, except that it was 9 am. I answered the door and was greeted by a sheriff, and someone I believe to be the landlord. I was told that we were being evicted, and to get my stuff and go. Apparently, the roomie, whose name the lease was in, had failed to pay rent, and ignored the prior notices. So I gathered what I needed, threw it in my car, and drove. I wasnt sure where I was driving, but basically, I ended living the rest of my existence there in my car, with occasional hotel stays and charity from friends. One night, while on my way to a friend's house, I was pulled over for what I believe was a broken taillight. It turns out, I had a bench warrant for an unpaid ticket from 2 years earlier (no proof of insurance in vehicle I believe) so I was arrested, and spent the next 5 days in jail. Upon getting out, with the help of friends and family, I went back to work, but was told that I was being let go, because of my situation(s). So now, I have no job, no apartment, for a few days, no car (impounded, had to pay to get it out) and a pretty depressing outlook on things. I was forced to make a decision. Do I try harder to start over AGAIN, or do I give in to fate, and retreat home to rebuild my life elsewhere. I chose number 2, so on May 1, 1997, I packed what I could in my car, put the rest in a storage unit, and headed back to Kansas. I was a broken man. All I had built, had been torn down, yet I had to believe that there was a reason for all of this to be happening. I maintained a small modicum of faith, and pledged to restart my life. All I was, had been taken, so I was forced to look inside myself and find the strength to carry on. It would have been easy to give up, but I did not, and looking back, that experience forced me to appreciate even more, what I have made my life into now. The other key turning point was still yet to come, but it came as a result of this.
The Beginning of
Forever - Date June 28, 1997 - The other key turning point,
happened on this summer day, just a couple months removed from
the destruction of my life. I had survived several relationships,
rocky, painful, but all learning experiences. Little did I know
that they were all a roadmap leading me to this date, this time
and this place..and most importantly, to her. 
I was
surfing around the newly discovered (for me) internet and
discovering the joy of chatting with people from all over the
world. It was on this night, sitting in a chat room, mainly
observing, occasionally contributing, when she first spoke to me.
Slowly, but surely, she lured me from my shell, coaxed me out of
my shyness, and opened my world in ways I could have never
imagined. I didn't want that night to end, and looked forward to
the next, and the next, as I still do to this day. But the magic
of that first night, the jubilation of first hearing her voice,
of seeing her vision, still burn deep into my brain, permanently. It has been 3 1/2 years since that
day, and the effect my sweet angel Katarina has had on my life is
indescribible. She has shown me what love is, and how to love,
the true meaning of a word that I had previously thrown around,
but never really known the meaning. She has opened up parts of my
soul which I never knew existed, and enlightened parts of me,
darkened by experience, and tainted by those unappreciative of
who I am, and what I had to share. 
She has shown me a passion, both for
life, and in love (the romanticism and the eroticism) heretofore
never felt. She is my love, my life, my forever, and has given me
direction in a life that lacked it. She has shown me the path to
happiness, while taking my hand and walking it with me. I have
said before, words cannot do justice to my feelings for her, and
what we share. I see the rest of my life in her eyes, hear the
hope, desire and passion in her voice and most of all, feel the
depth and definition of true love. All because of one fateful
evening in a chatroom, my destiny and life was changed forever.
The path I have taken to get to today has been one littered with memories, good and bad. It has been filled with experiences, some pleasurable and some painful. But each has been a paine in the mosaic that has become my life, and who I am today. Each has allowed me to discover an aspect of who I really am, as opposed to who I want to be. Given the opportunity, I would not change a thing in my life, because ultimately, each decision I've made, each moment I've lived, has led me here, where I want to be. It has led me to her, shown me my future, and opened my door to forever. Dreams of other periods, other eras, other times, and other personas are nice fantasies, but life is not lived in fantasies or dreams, but rather in the harsh, inescapable reality. The harder we fight, the longer we avoid reality, the longer our journey truly becomes. These thoughts are a nice respite from the madness, but should be treated as just that, like a vacation from work. They don't last forever, and don't mask or banish any existing situations. They are simply breaks from reality. I am, who I am, good, bad or indifferent, I would change nothing about my life, where I am, where I've been or where I'm going. The journey is rocky, may still have a long ways to go, but I have been strengthened by these experiences, and now carried by her love, it is all worthwhile, and all has a purpose. Thank you
