Skip to main content

Post #9

Monday, 4.16.18
3:03pm
36 years old
186 pounds
Bronchial health: so-so
Brontosaurus health: extinct
Bronte Sisters health: lively on the page
Denver, CO

Challenging oneself and exposing oneself to new experiences is the zest with which any good life is seasoned, no doubt. But every once in a while, a return to a familiar form, function, family, friend, or folly is a welcome relief. Our well-worn shoes are worn well for a reason, after all. It is in this sentiment and in these feelings and in this headspace that the author finds himself today, reader, and it is a most welcome homecoming.

I embarked today on a new career opportunity, and while the company and people and lingo and tools and internal sites and clients are all new to me, the author is treading a path he has trodden before. We find ourselves once again, reader, walking the halls of academia, though in a slightly different garb than before. No longer is the author a classroom teacher in the traditional sense - he is now training the teachers and faculty and administrators themselves. It is wonderful to be home.

For the first time since moving to Denver, I feel hopeful. There will be more to come in this space about the foibles and daily routines of the author's new vocation, so for today, we will end on this:
It is never too late to become the person you always thought you could be.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Post #34: Barbados Bye Bye

No one in Barbados has a last name. I learned this very early during my stay here. Whenever you meet someone, you get their first name and then an associative physical or geographical characteristic. "Hi, I'm Peter." And Peter is tall and bald and from Denmark and so that's how Peter is known to you from then on. When you describe Peter to someone else, those characteristics become that person's last name. Person A: "Do you know Peter?" Person B: "Maybe. Peter who?" Person A: "You know. Tall. Bald. From Denmark?" Person B: "Oh right - Peter!" What's incredible is that people fully accept that this counts as "knowing someone," and I can think of no better way to encapsulate my time on the island than that: a series of very intimate and personal connections, shared experiences, and fun where no one even knows your name. It's hard to say what I'll miss about Barbados because I believe that in time, this pl...

Post #26: The Moonraker

If you fly to the Caribbean, and you taxi to the southern coast of Barbados, to a clutch of jungle and tall grass called Green Garden Bay, which rests its ass on the beaches of the Silver Sands, nestled along the shore where kites fly in the morning and sentences run on for days, you will find the Moonraker Beach Hotel. Well, I say hotel, but is that what the Moonraker is, really? Imagine a two-story motel you can't drive up to, painted in bright Caribbean primary colors, and all the doors open to the world. This is a spot for surfers and kite-surfers and foilers to enjoy a spare living space between bouts of fighting the wind and sea. Formerly, it was a hotel, that is true. But to save on a cleaning staff and a receptionist, the owner of the property decided to make these rooms into "apartments." He did what he could with what was left after selling anything that could fetch value. A propane tank to power the stove. Mattresses with sheets for you to sleep and square tile...

Post #23

“Right here is a good place to find your focus for class.   We’re here for ninety seconds.” I’m being urged to find that mental space between “you can do this” and “sweet tea, just kill me” by a woman in outstanding shape.   She has a soothing voice and a wireless headset.   For the next 55 minutes, she is going to execute some of the most complicated stretching and positioning techniques I've seen in my life. She is going to do these things with an ease that startles and confounds me.   Physically, my body does not believe that the words coming out of this woman’s mouth correspond to actions that it is capable of.   So I kind of laugh. Ninety seconds?   She may as well have said two weeks. I am the one man in a room of seventeen to twenty women.   They’re here for the same reason I am: to get into better shape.   Outwardly, the place looks nothing like a gym.   You don’t hear weights clanging together.   You don’t hear the pou...