definition:Buzzardo

As fate would have it, a winter storm pushed through Chicago’s O’Hare airport, sometime prior to me attempting to board a flight in Rochester, NY. Upon arrival to the airport, I was informed that our plane would be arriving later than anticipated, but at that time was still coming to greet us in time for passengers to make their connections through Washington Dulles airport. While waiting, I took some time and attempted to get work done, but a reluctant and slow internet connection prevented any substantial work from happening. I packed up my work related attire and grabbed a bite to eat. Most times in airports, I have experienced vastly inflated prices for most normal food; luckily, Subway’s $5 foot-long deal was still on.
I just realized that I left a partially consumed bottle of water somewhere in the airport after mentally remarking that some other soul had done the same thing.
I became quietly contemplative, allowing my eyes to relax and blur. A young man sat across from me as I began to fiddle with my relatively new camera.

I then inserted earplugs to disconnect from my surroundings, and continued learning about the settings on the Kodak Z885 camera.

At this point, I looked up to find a Rochester departure time of 5:25pm, which was nearly the same time I was to be departing from Washington Dulles. Because I had the earplugs in, I probably laughed a little louder than I should have, and those around me raised their heads to see what the joke was. Promptly, a man came over the P.A. system to confirm that our plane had not even left Chicago yet, and we were delayed until further notice.

I removed my earplugs and solemnly packed my camera away, trying to think of what to do. I knew I was not stranded, but yet, I felt forgotten. Not by my friends and family, but by the world herself as she tended to other, more pressing matters. I called my brother in San Antonio, whom I was supposed to be meeting this Christmas Eve. I already knew what was to happen, but still went to the ticketing agent to see if any flights were available this evening. He informed me that the earliest he could get me out was 7:30am, December 25th.

So, I took the tickets, and with a smile, wished the ticket agent a Merry Christmas.

Luckily for me, I have wonderful friends who would make accommodations for me, even on Christmas Eve. The evening has been calmly passing, with the melancholy thoughts of holiday gatherings and celebrations past trickling through my mind. I felt the opportunity to capture the joy of cooking, music, and conversation around the fireplace at the home of my dear friends David and Kelly.

The warm welcome and merriment has, for now, calmed my desire to be home, yet the day has left me pining for a certain feeling of holiday seasons past. Dear friends and family, know that my thoughts and love will be with you, no matter how far away we might be.

Merry Christmas
Jason

had these walls been made of stone
if these windows were opaque
or the drapes were wrought of iron
this might not have found me

but the sound; the breath
a calmly spoken word unknown
drawing me forth
like a moth to the flame

walking through; rained upon
pausing to understand the past
shall tempting the unknown
ever become a reality

tired eyes close
weak arms sway
spent legs buckle
do I slumber

a weary step falls out of place
and startles this agreement
from the comfort of its den
while the fog woefully lifts

who told me to walk here
much time has passed
why do I pause here
as wind warms my face

in the woods
near an unending path
that went in a small circle
I stand

to turn around and see
these invisible chains
and watch as they dissolve
in rain which slowly ends

It has probably happened to you.  Was it while packing your luggage, four passports next to your car keys, and your wife and kids busily preparing for the trip?  Was it when you were about to put the DVD in, television on, popcorn popping, and friends sitting on the couch waiting?  Was it while you were at your desk, in the middle of calculating your taxes, staring into your coffee cup and suddenly realize you have not accomplished anything in two hours?

“Why am I doing this?”

Sure.  We have all been there.  The question ‘why’ is vague, but sometimes we get an answer to this universal question.  We seldom recognize when it happens, but when it does, and when we do, you can’t help but be happy with whatever, whomever, whenever you are.

Such an event occured to me the other day.  The hockey tickets on my whiteboard were calmly waiting for me to bring them to the hockey arena for the ECAC finals game last Friday.  During the course of the day, I began to feel disconnected, listless, and generally crabby.  A careful analysis of the symptoms led me to believe I had the male equivalent of PMS, which, unfortunately, there is no medicine for [...].

Game time arrived, and I decided to stay in my room while others marched off, ready to enjoy the gentle smearing of crimson clad Harvard players all over our home ice.  A friend came over, and eventually convinced me to play some badminton with him at the gym.  I reluctantly agreed, and wound up playing several fun games.  My male PMS symptoms were almost gone, but I still did not know why I felt that way to begin with.  That is, until I was leaving the gym and saw last semester’s materials science professer in the atrium. 

We greeted each other, and began chatting about things.  He informed me that a friend of mine was working for him, doing research.  I myself have been looking for some form of research to be doing, but lacked a professor willing to take me on.  Just before we parted, I asked if he would keep me in mind if he ever had an opening.  His response was: if I were interested, he would find work for me.

Woah.  There it is.  The answer.

Had I gone to the game, I would have never thought to ask him.  Somehow, the course of my day was seemingly predestined, however irritating.  While I have spent the last few months trying to work on my life, it is cool to think that sometimes it is also working on me in the background; keeping itself just below the surface of perception, save for a moment here or there.

For many of you out there, this winter has been warmer and has seen little or no frozen precipitation.  We, on the other hand were welcomed back to Potsdam with freezing temperatures, and several inches of snow.  One morning, it was cold enough to freeze the inside of your nose if you took too deep of a breath.  The snow glistened in the bright morining sun, with 10 degrees being stolen from Mr. Fahrenheit.  Currently at Clarkson University, snow is calmly collecting outside of my first story window.  The lights along a main sidewalk softly illuminate the large falling flakes as students walk by.  No one seems to notice that they are a part of a masterpiece that is being painted right before their eyes.  I remember being younger and how I loved watching the snow fall.  It is so quiet, yet so changing, and so renewing.  A fresh blanket will welcome us in the morning, and I forget for a moment that experts are preaching their gospel about global warming.

Hopefully, for all who wish to see it, snow will fall.

We all need to press it.  We all want to press it.  It becomes harder to press as more time passes between presses.  But pressing it is essential to the maintainence of the mind.  When it is pressed, nothing else matters.  Nothing else exists.  IT is the button which ables us to focus on a simple action so completely that there is no bandwidth for any other information to travel through the brain.  This extra information is all brought to a screeching halt and waits in queue for retrieval at a later time.

I was fortunate enough this past weekend to have such an experience during a martial arts test.  These tests are designed to push you beyond your limitations and to determine the strength of your body, mind, and spirit.  Near the end of the test I was beginning to wane dramatically during the fighting rounds.  I remember only three or four rounds of the eight rounds occurring, and as the fighting went on, I began to think of only one thing.  Stand.  It did not matter if I was hitting anyone, or if I myself was being hit.  I was entirely focused on remaining upright.  I don’t even know why this became my ultimate goal; as being laid out on the ground would have put me in a lower state of energy.

The real surprise was immediately following the test.  For the first time in several months, my mind was absolutely calm.  I did not have to think about quieting my thoughts.  My mind had invoulentarily paused all of the information that was not essential to standing up.  This feeling lasted for hours, and even now I do not feel like so much is happening that I can’t organize it or accomplish it.  Perfect timing, really, as final exams will begin in fourteen days.

Find your own button.  Press it as needed.  Noodle salad