Lessons from Unexpected Places.

As you know from being raised by liberal poet hippies, the world is the best classroom of all. In order to get the most benefit out of the lessons your world is trying to teach you, it is important to keep your mind wide open and your eyes... wide open. Not very elegant, but there it is.

To show you what I mean by this, I'll show you some unexpected lessons I've learned in recent weeks, thanks to my strict open-mind/open-eye policies.

Lesson #1: Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

While this lesson didn't come from the more subtle and/or natural sources that poets generally prefer (e.g. a meadow full of butterflies and daisies), it still hit me with its profundity. And as a bonus lesson, I got to learn how to say "kitchen" in Chinese!


Lesson #2: Ignoring that pain in your foot will only lead to a stress fracture.


And that's not going to win you any fashion contests. Instead of pretending everything's okay while you continue to run for eight months, why not go to a doctor? It might save you a lot of velcro-boot-wearing down the road.

Lesson #3: Some pancakes take longer to cook than others--but they still taste just as delicious when they're done.


You might think this is a lesson about patience or even about puberty, but really it's just about how to time the wake-up call you send up to your father and me when you're preparing our breakfast on weekends. Because frankly, we don't want to get out of bed until the pancakes are done. Period.

Lesson#4: When you find an establishment that seems to be named after the male version of yourself and serves one of your favorite beverages, go inside. You won't be disappointed.

A Fetish for the Future, Continued.

Well, children, we've established that I enjoy preparing for what lies ahead. Now that I've recognized this pattern, I've noticed it again and again in my everyday life. For example, when I switched on my computer one morning this week for my daily session of poetry writing, I noticed this message:


And even though I had written it only the morning before, at the end of that poetry-writing session, I was quite "chirked up," as Pa Ingalls would say if he were alive and commenting on things today.


So even if you never come into existence, children, this blog has been useful for me to recognize the things that are truly important to me, namely the future, poetry, and pancakes. What a life!

In This Household, Not Liking Pancakes Is Considered a Hate Crime...Against Pancakes.

While I feel as if the title of this post more or less sums up your father's and my views on this matter, I don't think it can hurt to illustrate my point. With images from our everyday lives. This is what it looks like when two normal, rational American people enjoy pancakes together.



This is what those pancakes look like.


What's not to like? It's refined grains, sugar, a little fat and salt when you add the butter (or peanut butter, which is fine, because it's still pancakes, and it doesn't matter how you like them, as long as you like them because that's what normal people do, that's why).

So what happens if you don't like pancakes? On the record, I can't say anything. But here's the last guy who had that problem:


So. Eat them or don't eat them. Your decision.