These thoughts are mine

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”― Sylvia Plath

Last week, when I needed a little help in my confession to my deep love for summer, I confided in one of my most reliable sources. I knew I had written some words that would help the exploration in the past. I am not one for extra work. I am efficiently lazy. I had written a poetry collection a few years back and……

to continue reading please go to my blog here: http://www.fattyhansen.com/2013/06/26/these-thoughts-are-mine/

The High School and College Years of teh Seasons

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” ― F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

Every year, around this time, the day’s grow longer and the nights welcome the bustle of people who would rather take in the fresh air than the staleness of central air. The rains subside and the foliage, now thick and strong, permeates the air with the essence of florescence. [Happy sigh]. Do you smell that? It smells like happy.

Summer is a continuation of spring. It is the high school and college years of the seasons. It is when the blossoms develop and time slows just ever so slightly. Most of my fondest memories are….

to continue reading, please go to my blog at http://www.fattyhansen.com/2013/06/21/the-high-school-and-college-years-of-the-seasons/

My Heart Opened and Blossomed

“A few days after we came home from the hospital, I sent a letter to a friend, including a photo of my son and some first impressions of fatherhood. He responded, simply, ‘Everything is possible again.’ It was the perfect thing to write because that was exactly how it felt.”   Jonathan Safran Foer, Eating Animals

In late summer, 2008, I began to feel that everything was possible again. Laura and I had returned from our failed year in Florida in 2007. We were dirt poor. We had to stay with relatives while trying to build our income. We were able to get two full-time jobs, and shortly before the bubble bursting, we bought a nice, starter, ranch home. That was late fall of 2007.

We celebrated our new home and this new chapter in life by conceiving the most precious, cutest, bundle of holy shit that fall. In the winter we had our first annual “After Xmas Before New Years” party in 2007. It was a good little shin dig. We played beer pong. We danced. We sang. We laughed. No crying. That was the last party we had without responsibilities.

I started getting suspicious around the end of November. Laura’s never been the best at tracking her cycle, but I always knew. Not sure if that’s because I have three older sisters but I tend to notice things like that. Self preservation, I suppose. Anyway, November came and went and nothing fell from her nethers. December came…….

to continue reading, please go to my blog at: http://www.fattyhansen.com/2013/06/14/my-heart-opened-and-blossomed/

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thanks,

 

Mike

Our Shouts were Deflated and Exterminated as they Left our Lips

“It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them.” ― Ralph Waldo Emerson, Emerson in His Journals

On Saturday, my baby, my honey, the MILF of my children, my best friend had her birthday. She has many birthdays, but not a lot. She looks as though she has had only a couple dozen of them. No more, no less. On this birthday we did something that we have done for her past 10 birthdays, we went to Wrigley Field.

This birthday was only the second night game in the 10 years we had been going. The first one was 2004. It allowed us to take our time in the morning. We dropped the kids off at my sisters around noon and slowly made our way up to Wrigleyville. For three hours, I was lucky to share the car with Laura. Just her and me. On her birthday. There is no place I would rather be.

We got to Chicago around 2:30 local time and picked up Laura’s BFF, Kari and her sister Garen. Her name is not really Garen…

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We Feel is is Time that People that are Gay are Finally Thought of as People

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails; -I Corinthians 13:4-8

Laura and I had a date night a couple of weeks back. We ate at an expensive restaurant. The food was poor, the company was sublime. When you have children, especially little children, it is important for you and your partner to dedicate time to each other. You can grow apart if you don’t rekindle the flame that first brought you together. It could be the way her eyes glint. It could be the way his dimple exaggerates his smile. It could be her supple curves. It could be his defined wit. What ever the spark, harness the flame.

We finished our disappointing meal and headed to a comfortable place where the wine flows like water. We had the radio on. I always have the radio on. I love music. We were listening to X 103. It’s Indianapolis’ alternative stations. It pales in comparison to Q 101 or O Rock. It rarely plays new music. However, as we were pulling up to the Mill a new song came on.

The piano caught my attention right away. The words caught Laura’s…..

to continue reading please goto my blog here: http://www.fattyhansen.com/2013/05/29/we-feel-is-is-time-that-people-that-are-gay-are-finally-thought-of-as-people/

The Human and the Divine are Something Divinely Human

“. . .sometimes one feels freer speaking to a stranger than to people one knows. Why is that?” “Probably because a stranger sees us the way we are, not as he wishes to think we are.”  ―   Carlos Ruiz Zafón,  The Shadow of the Wind

In the early summer of 2004, I went on a trip with my parents. My parents took each of us four kids on a vacation of our choice before we were married. My oldest sister went to England. The next one went to Hawaii. The last to Spain. I don’t fly. I chose to visit baseball stadiums that I had never seen before. I know I wanted to visit Fenway, first and foremost, so, we naturally toured the East Coast.

This post isn’t about baseball. It’s not really even about the trip. This one is about a moment in the first city we visited. Baltimore, MD. The hotel we stayed at was in a seedy area to say the least. Had I known that, I am sure I would have had a panic attack. It was close to the stadium, but inside the hotel it felt safe.

We checked in and I promptly told my parents that I would be downstairs and I was going to call Laura and have a few drinks at the bar. I called Laura. This was the second time in our short relationship that we had been apart. We spoke for a while and then I pulled a chair up to the bar. At this time, there were two other people at the bar.

The bar was a typical horse shoe shape. I was at the apex, with a patron on each side.  I don’t recall going outside at any point, so this bar must have been smoking. Back in 2004, that was an available option from time to time. I looked at the barkeep, she looked at me. She asked for ID, I obliged. I asked for a Jameson on the rocks. Not a typical order back then. But I wanted to feel…

to continue reading please go to my site at: http://www.fattyhansen.com/2013/05/24/the-human-and-the-divine-are-something-divinely-human/

Our Clothes Become Smaller

“When spring knocks at your door, regardless of the time of year or season of our lives, run, do not walk to that door, throw it open with wild abandon, and say, “Yes! Yes, come in! Do me, and do me big!”  ― Jeffrey R. Anderson, The Nature of Things – Navigating Everyday Life with Grace

[Sigh]. Winter. Cold, baron, drab, depressing, devastating, distasteful, douche baggy winter. Three to four months of hell. Cold as hell. Productivity goes down. Depression goes up. The longest month of the year has the least amount of days in it. No football, a Hallmark Holiday and dirty snow. It inspired me to write a poem some years back.

Tuesday’s gone
February’s left.

[Exhale]. With all this depressing crap something begins to happen in March. The dead rise. The old gain youth. The youth..

 

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