Connected

The trip to Brazoria County was good, or as good as we could make it. Circumstances didn't allow Wolfboy and THEGIRL and me to see as many folks as we'd have liked, but we understand completely. The time for that will come.

***

So yeah, there was THEGIRL at dinner at El Toro as I explained that I could swear the kid's color blind. I've heard differing opinions as to whether girls can actually be colorblind, okay, but really... ask her a color and she just doesn't get it right.

I picked up the red napkin: "What color is this?"

"Green!" she said. I nodded knowingly to my sister.

***

Flash forward an hour, and fearless THEGIRL is playing with Slugger, the Haish family's new dog.

"This dog has brown eyes," THEGIRL suddenly says.

Why... she's right!

A few minutes later: "This dog is white."

I nearly had a stroke.

***

Sis suggested THEGIRL has only mastered her neutral colors.

***

My kids got along with her kids very well. My niece greeted THEGIRL with a chipper, "Hey girl! How's it going??"

They weren't thick as thieves like Wolfboy and my nephew were, but they certainly got along. It was just... precious (there's that word again) to see them holding hands in the parking lot or hugging goodbye. Precious.

***

Wolfboy and nephew played video games and watched movies and just generally hung out together. After a decent seafood meal in Freeport (city of my birth, thank you), we strolled briefly by the river just to take it all in. THEGIRL insisted that we commandeer a boat and was ready to melt down when I explained to her that it wasn't on the evening's itinerary.

And a seagull pooped on my poor niece. Somehow Wolfboy seemed to think that was the highlight of the trip.

***

Well, until he lost his loose tooth when eating pizza at the mall.

And then he lost the tooth altogether a few minutes later.

The Tooth Fairy still found him here at home.

***

So yeah, good trip down, all things considered. Sis fed us, drove us around, and tolerated my particular brand of aimless prattle.

***

I saw a client tonight, and it went well. I kinda like this counseling stuff.

***

I'm learning to play "The Beast in Me" by Johnny Cash.

***

A quote from Wolfboy at dinner tonight: "Pasta never fails!"

***

Had that restless urge to work out tonight. It had been too flippin' long.

My session ran late though, so I couldn't get to Krav on time. Still, I had that... urge, that sort of tunnel vision. I had to do it. I'm not sure if I can explain it.

***

So I rediscovered my old lover tonight, aka the track at the high school. I strapped on the iPod and went out there thinking I'd run bleachers, maybe mix in some pushups. I felt good, felt ready.

Thing is, I was out there in a steady rain, and the bleachers were just to damn slick.

Instead, I ran.

***

I don't know how long it's been since I ran. That old leg injury of mine had shut that down. What I learned after all those MRIs and specialist visits is that my right leg is a little shorter than my left. If I'd paid attention to the fact that I always have to hike up my right leg on my Krav pants, or how my right boot heel was worn down much farther than the left when I had them replaced, well, I might have figured that out on my own. Hey, I'm a little hard of thinking.

And having legs of two different lengths creates problems when running.

***

So I have a small lift in my shoe now to compensate. It's something I'm glad I haven't had to explain at airport security.

***

I just knew I was ready for that trance-like running experience tonight. Even on the drive over I was feeling it.

I set a modest goal of three miles, figuring I've certainly maintained enough cardio with Krav and Muay Thai to do that at the drop of a hat.

A mile in the iPod was pumping "Mountain Song" by Jane's Addiction. I felt damn good.

The rain was just perfect, just the complement I needed for this experience I craved. At mile two I ditched my shirt. Rain on bare skin, just me and the dark and my music, doing my thing with a couple other runners out there.

At mile three, Dozer were telling me, "Slow down, you're riding the machine..."

Love me some stoner rock for jogging, man.

***

Where did I see some excerpt from a foreign documentary where they interviewed that Chili Peppers guitarist... his name is, what, John Frusciante? As they interviewed him he was holed up in an apartment, in the throes of a bigtime smack addiction. He justified it to them as "a way of staying in touch with beauty" or somesuch.

Running is my way. I know it doesn't make sense.

***

I had more in me, so at mile three I just kept going. Lemmy Kilmister was telling me to "Stay Clean," and damn it, I will Mr. Motorhead.

***

The machine worked pretty well tonight. I was soaked to the bone when done, walking crookedly as I wound down, all alone out there by that point. I felt like I'd done something good. I felt motivated, strong, virile. Go ahead and laugh.

***

And I'll feel a little better about tomorrow night when Wolfboy and I join my buddy Llorca at a Rangers game on dollar hot dog night.

***

Good night, sleep tight. Rest assured in the knowledge that you are loved.