Five Seconds

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I traveled to the frog pond back in May, back in July, back in August.

Back, back, back.

Time that son of a bitch. It rattles and roars right along through the seasons, don’t it now, huh.  Don’t it.  Yes it do.

I went to the frog pond back in a bitter cold March.  I walked the banks. I bent down and leaned in to look at the water.  I watched the eggs turn into tadpoles in the spring.  I watched the tadpoles turn into frogs in the summer.  I wondered if the frogs turned into ice cubes in the winter.  I told gotdaughter all about it while we went hiking the other week.

She says, “Frogs are like how caterpillars become butterflies through met-a-DORPH-a-sis.”
“Very good,” I says.  “Of course it is.”

*    *    *

Five seconds to your heart
Straight to your heart
I can’t get to your heart
(There’s no way to forget it all)

*    *    *

I spent the weekend at my brother Broseph’s house back in early October.

Back, back, back.

We talked about robots.  We talked about Artificial Intelligence. We talked about the exciting possibility of the human race maybe one day being able to live forever.

I told my brother I’ve been thinking about the future a lot lately.  Dammit, I had to stomp the brakes.  I had to put down the clamps.  I paid off the remainder of my debts.   I’ve been reading up on investing.  I’ve been cutting back on drinking, been eating kale, and practicing yoga.

He says, “Sounds like you’re going through quite a metamorphosis.”
“Yeah, I think so,” I says. “Of course it is.”

*    *    *

Five seconds to your heart
Straight to your heart
I can’t get to your heart
(There’s no way to forget it all)

*    *    *

I went to Sunday brunch with a friend back in mid-September.

Back, back, back.

We sat out on the patio and watched a fat squirrel gathering nuts.  We talked about the upcoming winter.  We talked about grey skies, dark evenings, and depressing days ahead, except it wasn’t depressing for me.  I was smiling.

I told her nevermind the news.  Nevermind the beatings, the bombings, and the beheadings.  Nevermind the winter weather.   I told her I’ve been going through a metamorphosis.  I told her here’s how to become a frog, or in her case, a butterfly.

It’s really simple.  Play this song called ‘Five Seconds’ by Twin Shadow.  Play it every single morning when you very first wake up.  Play it before you eat your breakfast or before you see the sun.  And you must dance.

“Dance, dance, dance.  Dance your ass off to Five Seconds,” I says.  “That’s the key to a metamorphosis.”

Of course it is.

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Johnny and Mary

10616079_10152414317613791_2635011782861865882_nGo on.  Ask yourselves a question you dimwit, ding-dong, dingalings.  Fill in the blank.

I am happiest when ______________?

 

Answer:  I am happiest when I’m hanging out with my no good, shithead brothers and the rest of the Hinton family, getting drunk on the whiskey, smoking cigarettes, eating good food, listening to cheesy 80’s glam rock, sitting around a blazing fire, and swapping stories about the good old days when we all lived under the same roof and nearly drove my mother to the la-la-la-loony bin on an almost daily basis.  (In our defense, you already have to be sorta loony to decide to pop out eleven children.  Criminy crickets, no one in their right mind decides to have eleven kids!)

Above is a photo of me with my five shithead brothers taken last weekend for my baby sister’s wedding in Bar Harbor, Maine.  Handsome, scruffy, ornery devils they are.  I love my bros.  I love my sisters.  I love my mother and my nieces and nephews, too.  They always make me smile when I need to smile the most.

I am happiest when I’m with my dysfunctional family.

Here’s a photo of the wedding taken from Blue Hill Overlook in Arcadia National Park.  It was absolutely gorgeous.  IMG_1931

And here’s maybe not the happiest song about a couple in love, but a damn good one nonetheless.  It’s called “Johnny and Mary” by Todd Terje, featuring Bryan Ferry.  Hope you enjoy.

 

Lima Beans

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I could tell you about falling in love with a super cute optometrist who sat across from me in a tiny dark room and told me to look down at her tummy while slowly blinking my eyes.

I could tell you about the wedding couple that held hands while all the guests turned their heads up to the planetarium sky and got chills as they watched a projection of the spinning galaxy set to the most breathtaking Beach House song.

I could tell you about the Russell Crowe movie that I worked on back in April and the movie that I’m  currently working on.

I could tell you all about gotdaughter, my family, my friends, and trips to the frog pond.

I could.  I suppose I really could.  I could give you the meat and potatoes of my life as my dear blogger friend put it, but for now you’ll have to settle for a few lousy lima beans.  I haven’t been in the mood for writing.

Here’s a couple photos from the past few months.

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Wish You Were Here

Wish You Were Here

My mother wrote to me.  “Listen sonny boy,” she began.   “I’m starting to forget your face.  I know you’re strange and all, but don’t be a stranger, you hear?  Won’t you please come back to this place?”

this place, this place, this place, this place
this place, this place, this place, this place

This doggone place?!!

“No can do, I’m sorry mama,” I replied.  “I prefer the shadows, and the rivers, and the quiet, and the peace.  This place, this place, this place.  I’m really sorry, mama.  How’s about instead I send you a picture of me floating through outer space.”

*    *    * 

“Wish You Were Here”
Original by Pink Floyd
Cover by Sparlkehorse and Radiohead

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell, blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
Did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found?
The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

Manchester

Origami Heart

“Manchester”
by Kishi Bashi

I wrote me a book
I hid the last page
I didn’t even look
I think I locked it in a cage
Wrote a novel
‘Cause everybody likes to read a novel

It started with a word
And it started pretty well
About a rare and fragile bird that I couldn’t even spell
On the table
I think I left it on the table

I found the last page in the sky
Cold and sweet, like an apple
I found you and now the story has its proper end

Oh hello,
Will you be mine?
I haven’t felt this alive in a long time
All the streets are warm today

I read the signs
I haven’t been this in love in a long time
The sun is up, the sun will stay
All for the new day

The very last breath of the hero of our tale
Would you only like to guess
Did he truly prevail
In the sequel?
I guess I’ll have to write a sequel

My favorite part’s when I die
In your arms like a movie
It’s tragic, but now the story has its proper end

Oh hello,
Will you be mine?
I haven’t felt this alive in a long time
All the streets are warm today

I read the signs
I haven’t been this in love in a long time
The sun is up the sun will stay
All for the new day

Oh hello,
Will you be mine?
The days are short and I wrote me my last rhyme
All the streets are warm today
I read the signs
I haven’t been in this love in a long time.

It’s been a long time

*   *   *

Yes, it has been a long time.  I am well.  I hope you all are, too.    Now put on your headphones and watch this video you dimwit dingalings!