In memory of Maximillian.


As Hurricane Irma raged through Palm Beach County, I was with my family at my mother-in-law’s house, monitoring the progress of the storm and witnessing the nasty weather unfolding outside. Then I was faced with the unspeakable task of taking her dog Maximillian for his afternoon walk. I borrowed a raincoat and braced myself for one soggy walk. The weather outside was horrific with the rain and very strong winds leaving leaves and small branches all over the street. Needless to say, I was quite miserable, but Maximillian on the other hand loved it. He had always enjoyed the water and this time was no different. He didn’t seem to mind the nasty weather in the least. I think there’s a lesson here somewhere, something about your attitude defining the experience. You can either be miserable because of the weather or you can exalt in it.

Maximillian passed away earlier this week, leaving behind a treasure trove of memories of good times and a life lived to the fullest. That walk during Hurricane Irma is my favorite memory of our time together. I will miss him.

My digital diary.

Back in the 1990’s when floppy disks were the norm, I had one set aside that served as a digital diary of sorts. It contained text files containing my innermost thoughts and fears (such as getting drafted for the looming Gulf War) along with programs I wrote in various programming languages, including TI-BASIC.

Here’s an unabridged entry I wrote that describes an incident that took place while walking the dog at Tequesta Park in Tequesta, Florida. It also contains advice on how not to impress the ladies.

7-16-93 10:01:31 pm
Today I took Max for a walk at Tequesta Park. I walked over to the swings to play. I saw two women who were also at the playground with their kids. In the mood to impress them, I got on one of the swings and began to swing. Higher and higher I went. I soon was swinging high enough to almost fly off the seat, but I still continued going higher. Then, the swing went so high that I floated above the seat and began to fall, all while I held on. I landed back on the swing so hard that the seat broke and I slammed on the ground with my butt. My glasses flew off from the impact. There I was, lying on the ground, wondering why I wasn’t in pain. I rose to my feet.

Then one of the women asked me, “Are you okay?”

I said, “Yes, I’m okay, but I am a bit shaken.” I then began blowing sand off my glasses before putting them back on. I then walked away from the swing, never feeling better in my life.

My ruined Christmas.

I answered the door in response to some rather frenzied knocking. There stood a short man with greenish skin, oh wait, that was from the green light outside my front door. Anyway, this man seemed rather upset.

“Ah, celebrating Christmas, I see,” he said after observing my holiday themed set up. “You may not remember me, but several months ago you cut me off and took my parking spot at the DOLLAR STORE WHERE YOU DID YOUR CHRISTMAS SHOPPING!”

Instantly there were audible gasps from the other houses surrounding mine. Great. Now everyone knows where I did my holiday shopping. I know I wasn’t not the only one seeking to save a little money this time of year.

Then my attention returned to the angry man at the door. “Wait a minute,” I said, “This was several months ago?”

“Yes, and I’ve waited this long just so I can ruin your Christmas!”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

“You see, I am a THORCERER!”

“Don’t you mean sorcerer?”

“NO, I SAID THORCERER!”

Whatever.

Assuming that infamous stork karate pose, he chanted in a voice so deep it sounded like a long belch, “May everything associated with your holiday go BOOM!” With that, he turned around and disappeared into the night.

I was chuckling at what I just witnessed, but after I closed the door and began walking towards my living room I stopped chuckling because there was no longer anything to chuckle at, but if there was something to chuckle at, I would have been chuckling except I wasn’t chuckling, because there really wasn’t anything to chuckle at.

Anyway, my Christmas tree was growing abnormally large and stood 7 feet tall, which was really abnormal considering that the tree was only 1 foot tall when I bought it. Not only was the tree growing larger but also the ornaments appeared to inflate like balloons.

Boom.

Instantly the tree exploded, ornaments and all, leaving nothing behind, not even those pesky pine needles. All that was left were the presents on the floor, except they were now inflating like balloons.

Boom.

The presents exploded, showering the floor with shredded wrapping paper and unidentifiable fragments of plastic and metal. As usual nothing resembling batteries.

Boom.

I heard a loud explosion coming from behind and when I spun around I saw the showering fragments of what used to be the holiday garland strung along the wall. Next to explode were the Christmas cards on my dining room table soon covered with their dust. Finally I heard popping sounds coming from outside the window. Sure enough, I could see my holiday lights popping like firecrackers on a string. Then all was quiet.

I surveyed the remains of my Christmas decorations and realized there was one thing left that the thorcerer can never destroy.

My Christmas spirit.

Christmas trees dry up and die, holiday lights burn out and a majority of gifts fall apart, but the Christmas spirit is what remains intact, year in and year out. Impressed by this sudden insight, I began to feel something well up from deep inside, except it wasn’t my pride. It was my Christmas spirit, growing larger and larger, soon becoming so large that my head began to swell. Seconds later…

Boom.

This thorcerer really got me good.

Ian’s secret legacy, Part 2.

“Nice job, Steve,” Ron sighed. “You just demolished the bedroom and there’s no box in sight. What is this, some kind of joke?”

“I swear, there is a box hidden here somewhere,” Steve countered before he was consumed by a sudden, illuminating thought. After a lengthy pause, he announced, “I think I know where it is.”

“Where?” Ron asked.

Steve pointed at the closet. “In there.”

“Oh great, here we go with more demolition,” Karen complained as Steve opened the closet door in preparation for tearing down the walls inside. Once again the crowbar flew into action, tearing out large chunks of wall before piling them on the already large pile of drywall on the floor. After a few minutes of vicious hammering and ripping, the noise suddenly stopped.

“I found it.”

Steve emerged from the closet holding a small jewelry box held shut by a snap hinge. He handed it to Ron, who eyed it skeptically.

“I’d like you to do the honors,” Steve said, “I think it’s fitting for you, Ian’s parents, to unseal his legacy.”

“Very well.”

Ron gripped the jewelry box and struggled to unsnap the rusty hinge that held it shut. Suddenly the lid flew open as a giant spring loaded snake jumped out, filling Ian’s parents with terror. As they stood in place screaming, Steve fled the room, not out of fear but in satisfaction that he had at last fulfilled Ian’s secret legacy – to prank parents and mess up his old bedroom one last time.

The End

The world’s most relaxing song.

If you’re looking for something that will really, really relax you, look no farther than the Mindfulness Pack on the archive.org website. It has four tasty tracks that mix soothing synthesizer music and binaural beats to create a truly unique meditative experience. There are tracks for quick meditation, endorphin release and lucid healing, but the real find here is the fourth and final track entitled “The World’s Most Relaxing Song”, a 9-minute track that will truly immerse you into the deepest relaxation you’ll ever feel. I’ve yet to try out the other tracks, but if it can relax me to the point of pure calm, then I’d expect the other tracks to work wonders as well. This album is a real find.