I'm A Hero

Now that's the face of a hero! Well, not really. It's the face of an exhausted man with aching feet who was too tired to hold up his head even though he helped a kid play Lost and Found: The Terrified Parent Edition! on the San Gabriel Valley mountain ridge today.

See, I decided to hike up Garcia Trail today to a) work myself nice and hard and b) take some time for myself where I could be alone with my thoughts and prayers and whatnot. After getting to the top of the mountain, I looked to my left and noticed a boy who couldn't have been more than 9 or 10 wandering around, looking at the dried-out shrubs. I figured his father or mother or older brother or someone was nearby and I simply couldn't see them, so I continued along with my hike. There's a path to give the firefighters a "fighting" chance to stop any possible fire that might pop up and also turns into a handy dandy hiking trail for those who aren't fighting fires. So, I stop and take a few pictures and continue along the path and there's the kid again -- still with nobody around him.

At this point, I'm thinking I'm going to catch up to him and ask him if his parents know he's out, walking along the top of a mountain, so I continue my walk and eventually get up to him and as I'm getting closer, he pulls out a cell phone. He fiddles around with it as I approach and as I pull out one of my earbud headphones, I can hear a woman's voice on the speaker phone. I figure someone knows where he is and he's calling someone just in case I wind up being a molester or whatever. (At least I'd want my kid to be that wary of a stranger walking behind him.) So, I hear the voice, think he's OK or at least accounted for and continue to walk on. I get to the highest point, take a few more pictures and begin my trek back down from where I came.

I walk a little ways and there's the kid again! I figure by now that something has to be up, so I decide that when I get to him I'm going to see what's up. When I get down to him, I can see that he's now crying while clutching the phone.

Are you ok?
I get nothing.
Do your parents know where you are?
Yes. (through alligator tears...the voice in the phone the same as before)
Do you need me to help you back down?
No. (through more tears)

Long story short(er), an L.A. County Sherriffs' helicopter shortly appears along with firefighters on foot and in truck to come and rescue a lost boy. He'd called his mom, who then called the authorities, who came loooking for him.

So...I was involved. Really can't say that I helped, but I'm glad my instincts were firing on all cylinders. No boy is going to walk that thing on his own. It's hard enough for men.

I was able to get some nice shots in the midst of all the hooplah.

Like this...

...and this...

...and this...

...and best of all...

Praise be to God.

Awestruck

God is just amazing. I mean, seriously. Just think that a being big enough to create this scene above loves each and every one of us and knows us better than we know ourselves.

There really are no words.

I love looking at the sky. If I could do it for an entire day, I probably would. There's something about looking up at God's creation that just...I don't know. I can't verbalize it. Even on those days when there are barely any clouds or when the only ones are those thin, stringy, weak-looking ones that look like tattered toilet paper, it's enough to make me stop and watch. My favorite days are ones in which it's either already rained or it looks like it's going to. Those thick, water-filled clouds are the best!

Any time you feel like things are going too fast or your day is feeling out of control, I advise you to just stop what you're doing and look up at the sky for a second. The first thing you'll notice is that when you're standing still, it's easy to see the clouds moving. Funny how the world is the same way isn't it? Only when you stop yourself do you realize just how much is going on around you.

Maybe that's why I like it.
Maybe it's my own little daily microcosm of the hectic business of the world.
Or maybe it's just scenes like this...

I'm In It

I don't know if there's some sort of ring into which I'm supposed to throw my hat.
I don't know if I need to sign up to make it official.

But whatever needs to be done, you need to know that I'm willing to do whatever it is. If this is a competition, consider me a participant.

I've always been a competitive person. I'm the guy that winds up yelling and accusing someone of cheating during a game of charades. If this is a competition, I'm in it.

The Long Haul

I simply sat there, on that wooden bench just outside of Barnes and Noble, listening as he talked about possibly changing the rest of his life. I wondered why it was me he'd called with such important questions. It was obvious he had his future in mind. But why me, his sister's ex?

I had no answer to the question in my mind. So I sat...and listened.

I spoke when I thought things needed to be said. I tried to be insightful and possibly impart some wisdom it seemed he thought I had. Most of all, I tried to keep him from choosing to abandon his passion. It might not be the most lucrative profession, but you've got to do what makes you happiest, I told him.

I really think the people who do what they're passionate about are paid in the future. It might not be monetarily, but they're repaid. If you wind up not being the breadwinner in the family, it doesn't mean you won't be able to contribute to the family just as much as your spouse, it would just be in different ways. You can teach them about history and show them why it's so important in life to know about your past.

I hope I was able to help. Strangely, talking to someone so sure about his passion, but unsure about what to do with it helped me. My unemployment hasn't been easy for me, as many of you know. As the time has gone on, it's been increasingly difficult. But reassuring him about his decisions helped to reassure me about my own.

I know there's something better out there.
It might not be the best-paying job or come with status or any of those other things some people without degrees wind up with, but I know I'll be repaid. God is faithful.

At The Ready

Always with advice at the ready, my mother has never been shy about letting me know what she thinks. Even when she tries to hold back for fear that I'll roll my eyes or give her the "Yes, I know, Mom. I'm 26 years old. I know clean underwear is important. That's why I wear it," I can always tell what she thinks. It's like she's got a little idea tool belt and she'll pull out which ever one she needs for the given moment.

My dealings with the lady folk has been no exception for her. Any time she finds out there's someone around, she tries to supress her usually unsolicited feelings, but they always manage to find their way out of the holster. Over the last few years, things haven't been nearly as unsolicited as they were when I was a young pup and I've come to value my mother's opinion, be it a postmortem discussion about someone I've broken up with or just hearing her take on what she thinks I should do about a girl that I've been talking to.

If episodes of advice could be equated with sporting seasons, then tonight was probably her M.V.P. performance.

Everything she said came with such wisdom behind it. Usually she says things that I've heard somewhere before or it sounds so simple that I'm more apt to dismiss it or at least take it with less weight than intended in the delivery. Not so tonight. Every tidbit seemed fresh, unprepared and filling to my being. Forget chicken soup, it was the wild alaskan king salmon for my unsettled soul.

My holster-holding mom, part-time sage.

The Day After

I watched her walking down the aisle, then turned my left and saw you breaking down and trying to hold it together while looking at her.

I almost lost it myself.

Great ceremony, even better reception and you were a married man.

Congrats buddy. Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.

Me vs. Mexico

I've never been one to go against Mother Nature.

Ever since I was a wee laddy, I've been infatuated with how nature works within itself and uses the smallest of elements coexisting to create a perfect balance (so long as humans don't screw things up). I've always felt that since I've been so astonished by nature that it would be good to me. I mean, I know certain parts of the wild are, well, wild, but never did I figure it would go all M. Night Shyamalan on me and start striking back.

My trip to Mexico -- specifically, a cruise to Cabo San Lucas -- wasn't supposed to include injury and a full-body need for aloe.

On the anniversary of the day our Founding Fathers chose to commemorate good ol' America's independence from those thieving, cheating, rotten, wig-wearing (wait, we wore wigs too. discount that one), marching-in-lines-during-wars Britons, the Mexican sun decided to give me a little uno-doce combination right across my face and upper body. The fact that I put sunblock on about a half hour into the tanning session did little to change the outcome that has now become my salmon-tinted chest, shoulders and stomach. Unfortunately, I didn't take it with me when we first went out to the deck of the Carnival Elation and didn't think it'd be too bad to just lay out for a few minutes before going back inside and grabbing the lotion.

The true effects of the unprotected sunning didn't show themselves until that night when I walked into my cabin bathroom getting ready for a shower and was amazed at what I saw. I'd show a picture, but, unfortunately, I didn't take one while I was at my orangey-pinkish heights.

Here's the closest thing I could find. I was most like the one in the middle and am now closer to the one on the left. Ironically enough, for the last three days, I've been radiating heat as if I'd been cooked like a fine Alaskan. Mmmm, fish. My mouth just watered a little.