‎63 Years of Memories....

‎63 Years of Memories....
that's what I have now. The photo below shows the chair on the point which for so many years was my father's favorite after-supper place to contemplate and cast for walleye. As much as I feel guilty about what's happened, I know he would understand and even say there's nothing to forgive. He lived life fully and moved on many times. I'm the one with the unique experience of being attached to a beautiful place for my whole life. And despite all my best efforts, yesterday the 'cabin' was sold. I signed the papers and, truth be told, a weight was lifted. A new life lies ahead without the obligations, but with all of the wonderful memories. My unrelentingly positive attitude says this is truly how it is, but my heart is still sad.

There are some things in life for which the balance between the obligation and the joy of ownership often cannot be sustained forever. It became clear that I was no longer up to the task of taking care of the place quite a while back. However, knowing what needs to be done and doing it are often far apart. Finally, no choice was left. It had to be sold.

Now it's gone. No more worrying about how long the grass or how deep the snow is up there. No more sublimely pleasurable early morning cups of coffee sitting on the dock when the color of the lake is like pale blue glass and the air is completely still. No more endless repairs, high taxes, and utility bills. No more late nights around the fire pit with friends and family - warm from both fire and friendship. No more frozen pipes or emergency calls to the furnace guys. No more saunas and midnight skinny dipping that make you feel like you'll live forever while your connection with nature is confirmed by the gazillion stars of the milky way and the loons calling out in the dark. No more concerns with low well water levels or water so hard and full of iron the clothes turn yellow and your newly washed hair feels like brillo. No more finding the way home by boat in the dark after a long day on the lake feeling like this is the only place you really, really belong. No more praying that the boathouse will make it another year without collapsing. And ultimately, no more making new memories with friends, family and loved ones. No new memories, that is, at Half Bay, Lake Vermilion, Tower, MN. New life... here we come!

How do you thank a place for memories?

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

...and another reason

So its like 2008 and we still haven't gotten the flying cars we were promised. Flying cars have become the symbol of the failed future. The sheer fact that we are still obeying gravity during our commute means that we aren't living in the future. Even Sci-Fi is dying out. The last generation's futurists used to muse about a brighter tomorrow where we've escaped the surface of our planet to have our traffic jams in three dimensions and add a 200 ft plummet to every accident. Wait, I don't think they envisioned that last part.

Here is a prototype flying car from Israel. If we get a move on this technology, we might just get to have the oppressive totalitarian police state of Minority Report. I bet this thing even starts with a 'Z'.
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4 comments:

Lottie Dah said...

Please don't talk about plummeting! I'm taking a helicopter ride on Thursday!

9:50 AM
thedad said...

Amen. I've always thought that would be the insurmountable problem.

Those of us who ride motorcycles know to stay away from the soccer Mom in the mini van putting on her make up while yelling at the 8 kids in back -- running late. Put about 5,000 of them over the Twin Cities and see if I get in a flying car.

8:56 AM
thedad said...

Actually, if it were not for the fact they would be falling on our heads when they had accidents, making all soccer Moms drive flying cars would make commuting on the ground reasonable efficient.

8:58 AM
thedad said...

Plus, I forgot one important point. When she's running late, putting on her makeup and yelling at the kids in back, she's also on her cell phone. Ha.

9:00 AM

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