Farewell

I’ve had a lovely time here over the past few years.
The people that have come into my life because of blogging have made me laugh and cry; they’ve inspired me to continue this crazy and wonderfully mysterious craft called writing.
Tonight, I’m here to say goodbye to this old URL.
So many memories, so many posts.
I mentioned something wonderful and I promise not to let you down.
Change your URL immediately to my new home in the blogosphere.
Please stop by tonight and leave a comment or two, the only housewarming present that I truly want.
I thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart for making this place as magical as I always wanted it to be.
The best is yet to come.
I promise . . .

~michaelm

ps. if you couldn’t see the link, please visit http://badsneaker.net

Still on Walkabout

I feel like a bad contestant on American Idol; I got nothing fresh to bring to the table.
My mind is so far away from the blog lately and I do apologize.
There’s some creative stuff swimming around my head but too many damn obstacles in the way.
I plan on getting out the heavy machinery to remove at least some of the cerebral gunk that’s currently clogging my blogging jones.
Have no fear, the psychobabble will be eradicated.
Soon.

I did want to mention a somewhat surprising award I received “From the Back Nine”.
My blog was labeled “excellent” by Linda, a relatively new reader and wonderful addition to my blogroll.

Supposedly, I must pass this award along to another blogger that I consider “worthy”.
Though I have many blog “loves” (and you know who you are), I felt the need to pass the torch to a new blog that I read often and enjoy immensely.
He’s not unlike me in the many sentimental ways he writes in terms of family, kids and life.
I wish more people would visit him because I believe he has so much to say.
And he’s funny as a bastard.
Yeah, it’s Grimm.
Please pay the guy a visit and at least tell him congrats on the award.
That would be pretty funny.
While you’re there, check out a few posts.
What I like most about Grimm is that when I visit, I feel comfortable, like I’m wearing a great pair of old sneakers that my wife still wants badly to throw away (at the very least, wash really good)
Please stop by and say hi.

I want to once again thank all of you for your wonderful comments.
I’ve read every single one so please accept my invisible but leviathan gratitude.
You guys have no idea how much your words have given me a sense of great solace and peace.
The honesty, love and support comes through loud and clear and I had to post tonight if only to offer a heartfelt thanks to each and every one of you.
I promise to dust off the front-loader by the weekend and be back up visiting and leaving ~m’s all over your blogs (and your comments, dear readers).
Until then, much peace, my friends . . .
Be well.

~m

Imagine

Walking to South Station tonight, I noticed the elaborate and somewhat intricate weaving of people on the streets of Boston.
Sometimes my walk seems perfectly timed as I pass pedestrians in an orchestrated sort of dance, just missing bumping into someone while neon pedestrian lights go white and I walk across the streets unscathed.

Chance?

Maybe . . .

Something happened last night that I have no reasonable explanation for.
It’s quite simple but it went something like this:

I began thinking about this particular song and went to YouTube to see if I could at least find the video, which I did.
As I listened, I thought of one special person that I had to send this song to.
There was a reason for this intense feeling but it’s a long story, and not for tonight.
I thought about opening my ITunes and buying the song and sending it on but decided it was too damn late to start futzing around with my Nano.
But I did check my Gmail and was surprised to see an an email from a dear friend of mine and in the title it said, “Here you go ~m”.
Curious, I opened the email to find the song I’d just been listening to attached to the email in an ITunes format.
Goosebumps, blessed goosebumps.
There was no logical reason for me to receive this email but there it was. Go figure.
It was an ultra-heavy dose of serendipity, possibly chance but I smiled as I dragged the tune into my ITunes folder.
The story gets more interesting though.
I sent the song sailing over the waves of the internet to a soul that I knew it would appreciate it.
Turns out the song was desperately needed and right on time.
The chain of events that made this happen made me realize that many stories have already been written.
And I felt so blessed and happy to be included in this one.
For Lent (yes, it’s Lent for us Catlicks), I have given up nothing but I have vowed to get on my knees on a nightly basis and pray.
My prayers tonight go out for my friend Gerry and his nephew, Brandon.
Have a serene weekend, folks . . .
See all of you next week.

~m

ps. the candle in the post is for Brandon.
Today
was his birthday. Sleep in sweet peace, young man
and to the special lady that has sees the Southern Cross at night

the Frozen Man

His soul sleeps,
buried far beneath a long forgotten vertical landscape,
yearning for home . . .
it dreams of places remembered; warm places, complete and innocently raw

The perpetual journey through a cobwebbed labyrinth remains a stygian quest at best,
an unanswered prayer, a dimly lit votive, a quiet cry in the dark
the clouds thicken, the earth cools and a winter of the mind settles in

Rolling waves of emotion yield snowflakes of blue
that fall like sleet, slicing the spirit into oh, so many unrecognizable pieces of what used to be a life; where nothing fits or belongs but must somehow remain

still . . .

Who knows when, this sadly shattered thing will end
Only God knows when it started,
But it’s wearing pretty thin, as the winter settles in, covering the frozen man . . .

~m

Gifts . . .

Had to put up a quick post for several reasons.

#1, all you folks that commented totally rock. Period.
You’ve made me smile with your funny comments and I just wanted to say thank you so much.

#2, my dear friend and “true North” writing critic, Annie, put up this post.
Tanks, Gator.

#3, an unexpected phone call from Downunder changed my birthday from special to absolutely incredible. I actually talked to Moe from the Nook.
I’m still so blown away by her phone call tonight that I’m having a difficult time describing how amazing it has made my night.
And to top it off, I’m expecting a call from Mark (Moe’s better half) Saturday night.
Can’t wait.
And he loves the Red Sox. :mrgreen:
Moe totally rocked my world tonight (more that she usually does).
Maureen, you have no idea how much your call meant to me tonight. Huge.
I will remember this birthday for a long time (as will Pamela and the accomplice Hannah)
(And you will stay here when you come up. We have a small house but we’ll figure something out.)

My sincere thanks to everyone for making this birthday one to truly remember.

~m

49

It’s always around my birthday that I get somewhat nostalgic and wax philosophic about my younger years. I’m not old by any stretch of the imagination but at a soon-to-be 49, I’m no longer a little boy either.

I have to smile thinking about several lines from an old James Taylor song called,
I was a fool to care” – (if you know the album title right now, you’re my age)

I wish I was an old man

And love was through with me

I wish I was a baby on my mama’s knee

I wish I was a freight train

Moving down the line

Just a’ keeping track of time

Without all these memories . . .

I have so many sweet memories from long ago: the phone call from my mother asking me what kind of cake I wanted for my birthday (she made many), the apple pie my father would bring home from Ware Pratt (a men’s clothing store, long gone) where he signed me up in their Birthday Club entitling me to a pie every January 10th until I turned 13.

(and yeah, I’d give my twin sister m~ a slice)

So, so damn sweet.

Sometimes I have to wonder if I wasn’t a fool to care about such things; caring turns into sentimentality turns into heartache and ends with something sad and bittersweet.

Looking back, I realize I did care about those things. Dearly.

These are just words connecting my thoughts tonight, folks, and nothing real deep.

Whenever there’s a pause in my writing routine, I get back to square one by house cleaning and moving furniture; it’s my own personal literary feng shui if you will.
The warmest of wishes I send out to my twin sister, my own flesh and blood.
The rivers we’ve traveled run deep.
Happy Birthday, Moe.
I pray our 49th year finds us healthy, full of happiness and covered with more love than we both know what to do with.
I guess this post has turned out to be something of a prayer.
And I welcome that . . .

~m

ps. my sister now signs her emails m~ . . . :lol:

pps. thanks to my dear friends, Laho & Liho for the cholesterol-inducing breakfast.
It was awesome.

ppps. Happy Birthday, Guinness!!!!!

Snow

I’m sitting here on Christmas night with not much of anything to blog about but I’ve had a wonderful Christmas and I can’t help but wonder why.
I’m thinking it’s because I am loved.
The girls and Pamela are watching “Hairspray” and laughing and all things considered, my life is good.
I am the richest man in town at this moment.
I thank all of you dearly for leaving such wonderful comments.
Tomorrow is a very special day.
21 years ago tonight, I was driving my lovely and very pregnant wife to the hospital for the birth of our first little girl.
Sarah is 21 tomorrow.
Good God, time flies . . .
Please leave a warm wish or some sage advice for her.
Merry Christmas everybody!
And yes, it’s snowing on my blog tonight.
How apropos is that?

peace,
~m

Happy Birthday, Sas!