for the Journey

a family huddles together in the basement, as the house is torn apart around them by a great storm.  incredible winds shake their home to its foundations - the roof above is ripped away, exposing them to the violent assault of nature. 

but they are together and not even the winds can tear them apart.  the family stays close and clings to this one thought: that every storm passes.

it gets worse before it gets better.  fear and emotion flood over the unprepared souls as the rainwater begins to pour in.  the deluge lasts for what seems ages and mercilessly destroys all that it can find.  a lifetime of shared memories and irreplaceable history are washed away.  the family can do nothing but observe, wait, and weep.

the noise eventually subsides though occassional crashes echo around them.  they numbly climb out of the wreckage, blinking bleary-eyed at the destruction that was once their life.  they mourn for their losses and do the only thing that they can.  they begin to rebuild.

__________________________________

over the years this reality transforms into a metaphor, an identity, a way of life.  time after time, the family gathers close against the wind and the rain and endures each storm together.

for my sister,

-louie-

who knew that Chicago would offer such a rich cultural exchange?

it all started at Wrigley Field.  we were enjoying all the food and beer we could handle (which turned out to be quite a bit) on the rooftop seats in right field.  i’m not sure why anyone would give me unlimited access to a bratwurst stand, but so be it.  somewhere in the third or fourth inning we noticed that there were about a dozen spectators running around in full lederhosen gear.  some theories were passed around- maybe the visiting Brewers fans had a tradition that we weren’t aware of?  or possibly a publicity stunt of some sort?  at any rate, the obvious thing was that we would be avoiding these Bavarian fools at all costs.

fast forward a few hours: so we’re hanging out after the game with our new buddies, the guys in lederhosen.  turns out they are visiting Germans and actually just wearing what they felt comfortable in.  we all marched down Addison to a bar where they proceeded to buy all of our beer and teach us German drinking songs.  laughter, drinking, yelling, and general mayhem ensued.  and that was BEFORE the New Zealand rugby team walked in…

as if this wasn’t cultural enough of an exchange, i was also a guest at a Slovenian polka party in Joliet a few nights later.  this party was actually the main reason for my trip to Chicago, as it was a celebration of my cousin’s 10th wedding anniversary.  the place (the local Croatian Cultural Club hall) was packed with aunts, uncles, cousins and family friends.  the musicians on the bandstand had two accordions, a banjo, and a bass.  one fellow was playing the drums with a wooden spoon he found in the kitchen.  people were three-stepping everywhere.

my family and i drank Croatian beer and periodically raised our glasses to shout “Karlovačko!” - a phrase which we have absolutely no translation for.  we cut into the accordion-shaped cake (yep, these people really know how to party).  they took turns telling stories about ways i had embarrassed myself at my cousin’s wedding ten years ago in Cleveland, and i gave them several new stories to tell for the next ten years.  it was great to spend time with the people who have shared so many important moments with me for so long, even if we didn’t know what we were yelling out.

when midnight crept up, the band played their final waltz and raised a toast to the happy couple.  the dance floor cleared and everyone went to the bar to finish up his drink before heading home.  i was just wishing to myself that it didn’t have to end so soon when a lone banjo started plucking a simple tune somewhere near the bar.  an accordion jumped in from across the hall.  before you knew it, a whole new set of musicians were up on stage playing polkas with an even greater fervor than the group before.  it was madness- you just can’t kill a good polka.

my uncle and i looked at each other, then over to my cousin.  an aunt shrugged her shoulders, raised a beer and shouted out “Karlovačko!!”

which in any language means “Hell yeah.”

for the Journey,
-louie-

wandering past the frozen reflection pool, my thoughts were anything but.  there is such an energy to this city.  something about DC calls to me, makes me feel at home, settles my spirit.  Washington is a city of thought, emotion, memory.

the ripples of my mind splash across my surroundings:  Lincoln enshrined in his temple like a hero of old, a child and his father laughing and flying a kite on the lawn, old women making crayon rubbings of names on the Vietnam Memorial wall.  so dynamic, so refreshing.  my thoughts and person are drawn back to this city again and again.

i came upon a shrine i had never visited before.  the (somewhat) new World War II memorial sits silently at the far end of the reflection pool.  i entered the open pavillion with an open mind.  looking around, i found that it made me immediately…uncomfortable.

at first glance, this appeared to be a vain monument to success - a gleeful cheer for mankind.  i nervously avoided the gaze of the Japanese man walking past me to see a triumphant engraving on the floor, celebrating Victory on Land! Victory at Sea!  Victory in the Air!  Kilroy was engraved on one wall, playfully peering out on victorious citizens and defeated guests alike.  the polished stones all around me were displaying some celebratory symbol or quote of the great war to end all wars.  my stomach began to churn.

then i found, resting solemnly near a quiet pond, these words:

Here We Mark The Price Of Freedom.

above the pond was an impressive and expansive wall of gold stars, each representing 100 Americans who had lost their lives during the War.  there were over 4,000 stars.  in this quiet corner i found the true weight of the monument.  “us vs. them” dissolved as strangers stood silently side by side in reverence and morbid awe.  Washington became again an ocean of thought, emotion, memory.

that night i cheered, screamed, and laughed with strangers in a local bar, as we watched the local Redskins in the NFL playoffs.  as we enjoyed the night of victory and defeat, i bought a round to mark the price of freedom.

for the Journey,

-louie-

i took the metro to the heart of Washington, DC.  a picture on the bus made me laugh: it was meant to indicate that the fare machine no longer accepted pennies, but the image was basically a big red X through a picture of Abraham Lincoln.  whoops…

to balance things out i began at the place shown on the tails side of the penny - the Lincoln Memorial, where tourists, locals, students, and families gathered in clumps on the tall steps leading into the Greek columned temple.  i started up the imposing staircase.  i slid around a professor who was giving a lecture in Japanese and i had to weave nimbly across the steps to avoid intruding on haphazard photographs.  once i finally fought my way to the top of the tall steps (resisting the urge to have a personal “Rocky” moment) i came face to face with the man himself.

the Lincoln statue is an intimidating picture of what Honest Abe would look like if he were still alive, turned to stone, residing in Washington, and 30 feet tall.  it really is impressive.  the atrium that houses him is an area of quiet reverence, commanded by the great figure who silently watches over his people.  his words are carved on the walls around him, wise thoughts from an incredible man.  something tickled in the back of my memory…what was it that Abraham Lincoln said?

“Towering genius disdains a beaten path.”

these are words to live by.  taking my leave of the towering genius, i set out on my own path to explore the rest of Washington.

inspiration for the Journey,

-louie-

i hadn’t seen her in over 15 years, since middle school.  i honestly didn’t remember much about her, except that she always laughed at my jokes.  we were just kids last time we spoke and she now lived four hours away, in Charlotte, NC.  it was already getting dark outside and i had committed to plans for that night.  but when she got in touch with me and said she wanted to see me, i jumped in the car without hesitating.

she always laughed at my jokes.

i did it.  i conquered this country.

i touched the water on the Charleston, SC beach, just as i had touched the water at the very beginning of this Journey in San Diego.  i experienced this country from one side to the other, Pacific Beach to Battery Park and everything in-between.  sea to shining sea.

as soon as i dipped my fingers in that Carolina water, the entire trip took on a new focus in my mind.  i forgot how exhausted i was and what hardships i had faced along the way.  the stuff that didn’t matter fell away and the true Journey could finally shine through in my memory.  and you know what i remembered?  laughter.

that’s what this trip was really about.  Steve and i laughed from one coast to the other, sometimes crying and convulsing with laughter.  maybe we were delirious- but everything was funny, everything was good.  i often worried that we were about to crash during the particularly heavy fits.  but i decided that it would be a good death and just kept on laughing across the next state line.  in the final analysis, what else about this trip matters?

i imagine this is the same experience i’ll have when i touch the waters on the other side of this life.  once i conquer the land of the living and look back, i won’t remember the times i was scared or lonely or didn’t get what i was expecting.  i won’t think about how hard it was or whether i arrived on schedule.  i’ll remember belly-aching laughter, and decide it was all worth it.

hilarity for the Journey,

-louie-

it’s amazing how someone you’ve never met can change your entire outlook on life.  as i was sitting on the plane to San Diego, a playful little girl of 1 and a half popped her head over the chair in front of me and screamed “YAAH!!”.  and again, and again, for the entire trip.  normally i would have grown quickly tired of the simple (and loud) game after a few iterations.  i would have lamented the lack of peace and solitude that was taking my concentration away from a particularly good book.  but all i could do was grin widely each time and think “i’m about to meet my nephew”.

his name is Luke and he’s going to be a baseball player.  i didn’t have any help making this decision, but upon meeting the little slugger i can see that inspiration guided me well.  there were baseballs and bats on his tiny little pj’s.  coincidence?  or Fate’s way of marking the child?  hmmm…

whatever Luke decides to do in life (i mean pitcher or third baseman, either way is cool), he has brightened mine in unexpected ways.  he has reshaped my role in society during the nine months + 1 month of his so-far-exciting Journey.  i’m now “Uncle Louie”.  and Uncle Louie can’t just bumble through life- he has some important lessons to impart.  an example to set.

as i held the child for the first time, all we could do was mimic each other’s wide stare of wonder.  what an amazing little miracle.  Luke started bobbing his head and flailing his arms.  yeah, definitely a pitcher.

hopes for the Journey,

-uncle louie-

i’ve come across a wonderful idea that i just have to share.  i’m not entirely certain it’s an original idea (i think a friend read it in a book and related it to me anecdotally to make some point that is long since forgotten), but whatever.  it’s mine now.

the thought is that there is no difference between your business goals and your personal goals.  you are personally invested in doing well at your job, so in the final analysis they are all personal goals.  this has been an enlightening concept for me.

i bought a notebook when i got my last promotion.  it’s a small spiral-bound dealie with a divider in the middle, separating it into two sections.  on page one, you will find meeting notes from my first day as a project manager.  the entire first half of the notebook is filled with similar jotted tasks and outlines, sometimes marked with a sloppily scrawled star to denote added importance.  some pages are filled to bursting, and some contain only a few numbers where i was counting god-knows-what.

the middle divider page has a pocket that holds index cards (some of which have project action items written on the front), a memorial card from my grandmother’s funeral, and a cute girl’s phone number.

the back half of this notebook is filled with personal writings, reflections, doodles, a drawing of a website layout that i had in my head one day, and other non-workish things.  oh, and more pages with mysterious numbers written in my handwriting.  what the hell do i count anyway?

this little notebook represents balance in my life.  i have it with me at home, it sits on my desk at work.  it helps me to manage all of my business and personal goals- which are really just my personal goals.  one side is used by analytical me, the other side by creative me.  all things in balance.  when one half of this notebook fills up, it’s a sign that i need to concentrate a little bit more on the other.

and the business side just ran out of pages.

balance for the Journey,

-louie-

       Down among the reeds and rushes
       A baby boy was found
       His eyes as clear as centuries
       His silky hair was brown
there was much ado about when the baby would come.  my sister’s due date was early October, maybe the 6th.  her husband, the Marine, was away on the latest tour of duty.  he could try to come back for his son’s birth, but was only allowed two weeks off.  if the Fates didn’t cooperate, he could miss one of the most important moments of his life, and my sister would have to do it alone.  this would all have to be timed just right.

my mother went out to California to help with the final month of the pregnancy.  she had her own ideas- wouldn’t it be great if the baby were born on her own birthday, the 2nd?  we all agreed that yes, that would be perfect timing.  but we would have to wait and see.

i looked up a zodiac chart one day, while pondering on my nephew’s time of birth.  if he met his due date, he was slated for a Leo moon (loves games and sports) and a Sagittarius rising sign (energetic, attracted to physical exercise).  but if he came earlier, both of these could be pointed more toward a Gemini outlook (attracted to travel and learning, reading and writing).  which would be best for my nephew?

somewhere among the noisy din of our speculation, baby Luke was born.  he met his father, missed my mother’s birthday by a timezone or two, and showed a personality all his own.  we forgot all of our expectations and pointless planning, and just marvelled at this new member of our family.  it happened as it must.  and it was perfect.
       Never been lonely
       Never been lied to
       Never had to scuffle in fear
       Nothing denied to
       Born at the instant
       The church bells chime
       And the whole world whispering
       Born at the right time

i think someone should appreciate me more, but i keep my mouth shut. this has been a day where everything has gone wrong. all that is left to me is to sit outside and write against the dying of the light, until darkness or the mosquitoes force an alternative.

one day. only one more day of struggling with the world, and then i am off on my next adventure. another Journey- the heartbeat of my life. i pray that this heartbeat will return the blood to the farthest regions of my soul. new life is just waiting for the next breath. i whisper to myself, “Just breathe.”

life doesn’t have to be hard. it’s the message i want to scream to the world through my every action. i often find that i need to scream it to myself. life isn’t difficult- it simply is. the march of time continues on relentlessly, the sun rises each morning, every storm passes. in the end, there is no “life”…all else falls away, and only i remain.

the twilight deepens. even my words on the page begin to slowly fade away. this is the way of life, and in it lies the wisdom. when you are finally comfortable with yourself in the dark and in the silence, you can begin the Journey. i feel the slight tickle of song and light bubbling up from within. one more day. just breathe.