His work would not have been weakened by a greater commitment toward concision.

http://dir.salon.com/story/books/review/2002/07/23/darger/index.html

concision
(Gr. katatome; i.e., "mutilation"), a term used by Paul contemptuously of thosewho were zealots for circumcision (Phil. 3:2). Instead of the warning, "Bewareof the circumcision" (peritome) i.e., of the party who pressed on Gentileconverts the necessity of still observing that ordinance, he says, "Beware ofthe concision;" as much as to say, "This circumcision which they vaunt of is inChrist only as the gashings and mutilations of idolatrous heathen."

If you head east out of Melville past Donny's place on the road to the Agripark and then keep going east for a while and then turn left you end up at "A Drinking Place".

Such places are established areas out of town just off of some gravel road that end up being good places to hang out in your car and drink.

The first time I was at this particular place was with Dickey and Al. In Al's super big boat of a car. I don't know what the car was but it was purple and had power windows and. And it was a massive monster car. We drank supersize cans of "Extra Old Stock" and I ran around drunkenly in the dark trying to get fireflies to find each other. I had never seen a firefly before. They flash to attract mates and I was trying to help out and play matchmaker. I was really drunk. Those supersize cans have tried to kill me more than once. But that's another story.

Another time at this drinking place was with Mark and Mike and bunch of their friends. I hid in the back seat of Mark's car while they blasted "You and Me Go Fishin in the Dark" and screamed the lyrics at me. Bastards.

And the final recollection of this wonderful space is the time my first girlfriend and I went out there for some summer lovin in the sun. After the "act" I threw the condom into the bush. Well....I meant to throw it. Instead I ended up slamming my fist into her eye. The fist holding the recently used condom, ick. I didn't see her behind me when I swung my arm back to throw. She cried the whole way home.

Good times.

Here’s your inside-baseball trivia about having TV interviewers in your home: they will inevitably want to unplug your fridge, to get better sound. Then they will put their car keys in your fridge, so they don’t forget to turn it back on.

"I bought you apples."

She breezed in from the garage where we keep our wheezing second refridgerator packed with beer, milk, fruit, sourdough starter and the occasional tub of slow-rising dough. Her skin radiated sun and clean sweat and a field of heat from her five-mile walk, tan arms against a neon-green tank top, tight in all the right places.

"What?"

I was clueless, as usual -- at the computer trying to figure out why my pages don't validate.

"The apples in the outside fridge. I bought them for you. The Fujis. Have you had any yet?"

"Oh yes. Had two last week. Yummy. Fujis. Thanks."

And that was that.

Until today, a few days later, during my lunch hour, escaping under a cluster of live oaks. As I take my third bite of one of these apples, the juice spraying and dripping down my chin, it hits me: this is what a life together is like.

She was at the store. She saw apples. She thought of me. She bought them.

I bought them for you.

I see then that perhaps this is what well-aged love becomes. Gone are the days of extravagant gifts, high-impact vacations, passionate weekends. Three children, a mother-in-law and multiple jobs have inked their way in to once-nonexistant planners. We communicate primarily through emails and sticky-notes.

We find the time in the granular moments of opportunity presented to us. For now, these are the only ones we have.

I rub her feet. She calls me from work to get me up in time to run before work. I have dinner ready and her pajamas out for her after she's worked a gnarly double. Sex is as infrequent yet dazzling as meteor showers. And of course, she buys me apples.

She will deny this, of course.

"I only got them because they were cheap."

"Well, then you got a bargain."

"I know."

Whether she means the apples or me, she'll never tell, but either way I win.

I put on Fishscale one day and everyone popped their heads above their cubicle dividers like prairie dogs, staring at me like I'd grown two extra heads that were tongue-kissing each other

I hate moving. I've said more than once that I lived in the same apartment for almost 10 years just because of how much I hate moving. That and it was an OK place and I didn't really really have to move.

But here I am again. We are selling the one bedroom condo and cashing in on the real estate prices before it crashes completely. So tomorrow morning we are renting a van and carting all the stuff out of the storage space and other crap out of the apartment and out to the house. At least there is room at the house. By the time we actually move to the house it will be full.

And our course the entire bathroom needs to be redone. Broken pipe in the ceiling means all the pipes are to be replaced. And all the tile around the tub is going to be ripped out by yours truly today and we have to rebuild. Ugg.

The new job at the Bank is a little boring and no real challenge at all. The team isn't quite at the level I'm used to working. I guess I can slow down to this. I am noticing that I've the brain and power bandwidth for other things. I'm starting to write new music, I'm blogging again and I'm recording various ideas for a new business. We'll see how this business thing works out.

I guess it's been a couple of years. Thanks for waiting for me little bloggy.

Today is also my wedding anniversary. And the bathroom ceiling is waterlogged and ripped out.

And I have a new job at the bank. And we are gonna sell that ceiling and everything wrapped around it. So long to the one bedroom leaky leaky condo. Reading back in this blog reminded me that things didn't start well with that place. It treated us well but it's time to cash in and move on.

I'm seriously thinking about starting my own business.

Three years of marriage. Still really dam good, I love my wife. And we've got the house now too. And I ain't gonna be making any babies. Although I think they are growing back?

Hm.......