Mr. Hat

Day In Review

Today is the first day in a long time, at least nine months, that I am choosing to wake up and not check the news.

And I won’t be checking social media feeds for the next week either. It’s becoming – distressing. 0_0. Maybe I’m just sensitive right now.

But a break will be good to reorient my brain stem.

The baseball game should be amazing today! Yankees vs. Minnesota.

Piano for the Day:

Art for the Day:

End of Evening Thought:

Ah, what’s in a name, but a new morning?

A clean slate, a fresh sun, the unwrapping and wrapping of the skins of yesterday and today.

They are the best minutes of the day, these brief and uncorrupted sequences of seconds. Where, for some controlled amount of time, everything is just about right. A person can have a schedule. An itinerary.

As sleep and dreams fall away, there is a route. Ten steps this way, and the new sound of water greeting you from inside the extended hands of a faucet and sink.

Cool footfalls on a floor, yet unused this cycle. Brand new clothes reaching out to grab you. So you, can grab them.

Soft tickles from a towel, scrubbing off yesterday’s worries; and a toothbrush who has been waiting at attention, guarding you against intruders.

The morning means there have been no sounds to color the outlines of the day yet. You can hear the crunches and whistles. You can hear the swooshes and ticks. No voices have given you instructions. No words have boxed in your opportunities.

Instead, you are an empty cup. Twenty steps that way and you gather yourself into a soft robe, twirl in a circle, find a drinking glass with no fingerprints, and greet your stomach with a cool rush.

Mornings are a presentation of a gift; one more chance at least to do your thing. One more ride on the ferris wheel. One more set of whirligigs and gears turning. One more bundle of keys to work at unlocking the fine mind, if you’re so inclined.

You aren’t left to wonder that it’ll all be going downhill shortly. That’s an unfortunate truth. But, until it’s time to strap those gravity stompers on and join the unwashed masses, you have the clouds, tickling your toes.

In the morning, ain’t nobody there but you. Not that you can’t share this time; this space. But it’s still a personal belonging. You can share it. But you have to have something of your own to share. You can’t actively share something you aren’t the sole proprietor of.

So you own it. You hug it. You put it in your pocket. You sew it into your socks. You tuck it into the brim of your hat.

And yes, the day will kick you in the teeth. The day will take your wheel of fortune and hand you the bitter ends.

The night won’t give it back, either. The night will remind you of your aches and pains. Will make your eyes burn. Will make your teeth grind. Will stuff your nose. Will put cotton and horseradish in your ear canals.

But with all that weight on you, with all of those picks, pecks, prickles, pinches, pokes, and prods – the morning still waits with that crooked grin and a wink. Leaving you bread crumbs to follow, and maybe a few melodies in your free conscience to cherish.

Other Stuff From the Day

Can’t go too far wrong with meatloaf and pizza. I need to do a quick video test as well. The meatloaf had sausage and cheezits in it. The pizza, I needed to let it cook longer. It was – doughy.