To me, Evel Knievel is a twelve-inch-tall plastic figure whose motorcylce is powered by a flywheel. Brian Oberreuter puts the motorcycle into its plastic base, pulls the serrated plastic ripcord, and Evel Knievel zips down the patio where he collides with my giant size Chewbacca.
Later, we play with Legos.
I think way too much about the past these days, which is a dumb thing for a 33-year-old-man living in the early 21st Century to do. Especially when I remember that parts of the past sucked. The bad skin, the asshole kids at school, the fear of being burnt to a nuclear cinder, all of it was crap. Hell, Brian Oberreuter and I probably fought as much as we played together, and my Chewbacca lost most of his bandolier packs.
But there was also that feeling that good stuff was around the corner, and that’s one thing that I can carry as long as I’m alive. I wrote that blog title because that’s the one thing the past is good for: take the best parts, get rid of the crap ones, and give it another go. Carry the positive forward.
I’m probably just tired and cranky ’cause of my reinjured leg. And I’m feeling sloppy about writing. Plus, it’s cold and raining, and, while this morning’s ride was excellent, at the end of the morning I still came home with a wet ass. Optimism + damp shorts != positive outlook.
So, I’m going to get the hell out of the office, curl up on the couch with Anne, read me some Halting State, and get to bed early. Mash it up, tear it down, start again.