Skip to content

Month: July 2009

2,102,400 Minutes More

I stripped down and stared, bare-assed, into the mirror.

Four years ago, on my 30th birthday, I did something similar and took stock of who and what I had become in the first 15,768,000 minutes of my life.

As of yesterday morning, 2,102,400 minutes more have brought me to the age of 34.

So many minutes, so little time.

Gazing at my reflection, I  wanted, this time, to really see past the outside stuff:  the first hints of wrinkles and they gray that seems to have taken a mortgage in my beard; the nose and ears that are still too big and the legs that I’m resigned will always follow function over form.1

When you look at yourself naked you can see into your soul.

Especially if you look long and hard enough.

There is that saying that people are like wine, getting finer as they age.  I don’t know about getting finer, but there is definitely some truth to that fact that once you reach a certain age, what seems like change is really more process.  The body has long been established.  You are who you are. Time just helps bring out hidden and sometimes surprising flavors.

As I have said before, blogging and the connection it brings to the worlds2 outside of the mountains of East Tennessee, has been a big factor in my adult development.  So has the job change, somewhere around life minute #17,469,000 ,which has caused me to slide a bit more to the  left on the brain scale.

But it will come as no surprise that the greatest effect to my recent development involves the Attorney.

If I was to try to time stamp it, it wouldn’t be minute #15,636,600 when we first met and he took “no” for an answer. It would be months later (minute#16,425,000) when we met again and he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.

And I’m better because of it.  I’m a little bit smarter for it.  I’m a bit more confident.  I sleep a bit better.  I’m happier and hornier.3

He has caused in me a solid comfortness and has provided for me someone to live for in a way that Granny can’t. Both of which are things that 2,102,400 minutes or more ago, I was not sure that I would experience at any minute in my life.

Only time will tell if it will be forever.  Millions and millions of minutes later it could all be different. New flavors sometimes bubble to the surface and clash.  But for now, we have each other and we are good for each other.

And that’s the best thing you can have on your birthday.

Or any day.

{ fin }

  1. some things, I guess, will never change. []
  2. figurative and literal []
  3. and I was already a pretty happy horny guy! []


Now that I am 34, I have out-lived Jesus.

But he accomplished more in his 33 years than I did, after all, what with healing the blind, feeding the masses, walking on water, and inventing Christmas. 1  But I guess if you have a responsibility to the sins of mankind and know that the whole purpose of your existence is to die, you’re on a pretty firm deadline.

Granted I’ve got some responsibilities, but they’re pretty much limited to Granny and myself.  And maybe the Attorney to some degree.

So, I have a little more time to just live life.

Which is pretty much all I have been doing in the last couple of weeks.  In my absence from the blog.

Just living life.

Work, cleaning house, cooking dinner, Fridays with the Attorney.  The usual stuff.  The status quo.

There were a couple of small deviations from the normal path that might be interesting to you.

Little slices of life.

One evening I came home to an empty house.  The TV was on and the back door was open.  A small panic started to set in, but before I let the horse get too ahead of the cart, I thought I’d better hunt around.  Minutes later, granny came out of the woods behind our property dragging an old bed sheet covered in blackberries.

“Most folks make the mistake of putting them in a basket when they pick,” she said. “You can’t lay them on top of each other like that.  It just ruins them.”

Granny hasn’t been in the woods2 in years.  So I asked her what made her decide to go pick blackberries.

“Because they’re ready,” she answered.

Simply put. ‘Nuf said.

The real reason is that she was picking them to serve with my birthday pound cake.  But, I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.  For her.

The Attorney had a surprise of his own, too.

Late the night before my birthday I went to Walgreen’s to pick up some things.  When I got back home, the Attorney’s car was in the drive and he was sitting on the front steps3 waiting for me.  He drove an hour and a half just so he could be there at midnight and be the first one to tell me “Happy Birthday.”

Gotta love a man like that.

The weather was really great that night.  In the mid 60’s and clear sky.  I got a blanket and we went in the back yard and laid out under the stars for a couple of hours.  We talked for a while.  Then we stopped talking.  We still made sounds.  Just not words.

Two good slices, thanks to the Attorney and Granny, of the sweetest of birthday cakes.

Definitely better than riots at Wal-Mart over Playstations that Jesus gets for his birthday.

{ fin }

  1. Not to mention his Houdini-like finale. []
  2. that I know of []
  3. looking very hot in just a v-neck tee shirt and gym shorts.  Oh, those long, long, loooong legs. []


“Here come the twin towers.”

That’s how the Attorney’s friend Jeff referred to us as we showed up at his house for a dinner party1 last Friday night.

It was like the millionth time since I have known him that he has called us that.

I think “twins” is a bit far fetched, but I guess it’s fair to say that the Attorney and I are similar types.  Which is sort of a first in my dating history.2

Which makes me wonder…just how much a narcissist does it make you when date somebody like yourself?

I mean everybody is at least a little bit narcissistic.  You have to be,  just to keep life from running you over.  Sort of self-preservation.

But, like most things, it’s all where you fall on the scale.

They say that the longer couples are together the more they look like each other.

But, what does it mean when you start off the bat that way?  A high narcissity3 quotient?

I like to think my narcissism falls pretty low on the charts.  Sure, there is no doubt that looking at the Attorney cooks me ’til I plump. But it’s not the ways he looks like me that does it. It’s the differences that really put the starch in my loaf.

Mainly in how it’s all put together.

Same parts, different design.

He’s off a line in Munich.  I’m outta Detroit.

I got more function.  He’s got more form.

His parts seem to perfectly flow from one to the next.  Mine are more attachments.  Like Mr. Potato Head.4

If I have a narcissitic bone, it’s about…well…my bone.  The attachment.

But I could never have been a Narcissus.  Instead of falling in love with a reflection that I didn’t realize was my own, I would have been trying to get it to turn around to see if it had a nice ass.

Which I don’t, particularly.

But the Attorney does.  Particularly.

Viva la difference!

{ fin }

  1. Yes. Me at a dinner party.  Imagine. []
  2. Not that it’s that thick of  a book. []
  3. Yes.  I made up the word. []
  4. Although the Attorney’s ears have Hasbro written all over them. []