Tuesday, December 30, 2008
So it was just another sub-zero day lounging around the apartment. Trav and I started on a conversation about what we used to do as kids and what it will be like to have kids one day. Our past experiences were pretty similar because he grew up on a farm and I was always hunting or playing in the woods so we had a little bit in common. Quickly our conversation speed up, we both were remembering little bits of our childhood. Our brains scoured through old memories as we quickly started to remember experiences more precisely. Sharing a few good laughs we talked about exploring the woods and all the crazy adventures that came with it. As my thoughts were intertwined with running through the woods I couldn’t help but feel if there was something missing. I ran through a quick check list and discovered what was missing. My perfect stick. As a young Louis and Clark exploring the vast depths of the “Woods behind Tom’s house” I always had a companion. My perfect stick.
There are a few critical qualities that the perfect stick must have. 1) It needs to be free of bark 2) a good grip. 3) Sturdy for walking. 4) a pointed end for jousting any unknown creatures. It was pretty easy to modify a stick with an illegal pocket knife (smuggled from the gun case). At the end of each venture it was time to clean up, go inside, and eat dinner. This meant you would hide your twig of perfection. This is where problems would arise. My under developed childhood brain could go to bed and not remember where your new great hiding spot was or leave for a weekend and forget. Every once in a while one of the neighbors would happen to dump stuff right where you hid your stick. There is still no doubt in my mind that the neighborhood conspired to always find my stick and burry it…bastards. They voluntary were hindering my spirit and not to mention wasting a hard day’s work of searching in the woods. I would never give in to these forces. Your stick defined who you were and the roll you played in an imaginary world. If you were a warrior maybe a spear stick was necessary for fighting on the front lines, or perhaps you were a knight in which case a shorter sword stick was the find. That is what is great about being a kid (and smoking marijuana) is that your imagination has the ability to run free. Whatever you want to be is possible. A “never, never land” if you must. A lot of people lose their sense of imagination when they grow up but some of us keep it. The ones of us who keep it are in fact the backbone of creativity. People like Picasso, Lennon, J.K. Rolling, people who work in advertising, writers, musicians, entrepreneurs. It is a little piece of the brain that allows you to think just a little bit different. The ability to change someone’s emotions with a physical thing. Anyway I don’t know how I could put a finish to what I am trying to explain. Either you get it or you don’t. Enjoy