Back to school...

OY! Yes in only three short days my summer vacation ends. I remember when I was IN school - summer vacation was this intangible epic-span of time which seemed to stretch out and on for ever. Sadly, as time went by summer vacation grew shorter and shorter. June - August used to be filled with sleeping late (or as late as mom would allow before opening all the blinds, tearing off covers and blasting Opera throughout the house), wearing pajamas all day (an adult t-shirt too big accompanied by fruit-of-the-loom briefs) and watching The Price is Right, wishing I had Bob Barker's job. I would sit there in my pink panther night shirt with a mouthful of half chewed raisin bran and daydream about hosting a game show for the first half of the day and then playing Golf the rest. Mind you - I didn't then, nor do I now play golf - I just always imagined Barker a golfer because of how well he would do when demonstrating the Putt-O-Rama game. The rest of the afternoon would be filled with flipping through channels of daytime court shows and other petri-dish samples of society at its worst.This summer was possibly my shortest ever. Namely out of fear that I would vegetate all summer I signed myself up for a plethora of freelance work and extracurricular activities (camp, night classes, etc). Shortly before summer I received from my lovely bride-to-be, a most inviting hammock. Each day I would get home from work and briefly lay in it dreaming of the days to come when I would lay there and read and sleep and watch birds ballet from limb to limb in the pecan tree's canopy above.
Sadly, I could not find the time to lay in my hammock even once.
Sure, I had a great summer. I went on many adventures, saw friends, drank copious amounts of wine... but sadly it seems that half the joy of time off is the promise of one more free day to come. This is why people - myself included - have such a hard time enjoying Sundays. Sure its a day off, but the next day is Monday!All these facts have lead me to the conclusion (once again) that TIME and CLOCKS and CALENDARS and AGE are all evil. (In fact - that time spent laying in the hammock thinking of a time when I would have MORE time to lay in it was time wasted).Today - I rolled out of bed around 9... took Lila to the park... came home and ate a bagel with my coffee while I checked my e mails and looked up hunting safety courses (another blog another time)... and then set off working on my latest art piece. Later I plan to do some light yard work and maybe make a trip to Lowes.Next Monday - I will wake up at 5:45 am everyday to the alarm... I will shower and eat and drive to work arriving no later than 7:15 each day... I will teach until I am allowed 20 minutes to consume my lunch in a frenzy and then pray that I have enough time to shit before the arrival of my next class...All my freedom and autonomy will be replaced by a regimented schedule and sense of automation.At what point did we surrender to this conveyor belt lifestyle? I feel like the little wooden-people in cuckoo clocks who come out and do the same damn thing at the same damn time every damn day. Why one of those little lumberjacks doesn't take his little axe and start bashing that wheel which binds his feet is beyond me.Well rest assured - some day in the (hopefully) not too distant future, this little cuckoo bird is gonna splinter and tear free his wooden wings and soar straight out the fucking window. I'll fly high and far, over highways and schools and office buildings until the once-blue sky gives way to the undulating waves of granite and pine, growing darker and more prominent as I draw near - flapping harder and faster now than I or any of the other clock inhabitants ever thought possible. The smell of exhaust and french fries will give way to decomposing oak leaves and honeysuckle, lifted on breezes who tickle lake tops and frolic through evergreen canopies. There, high above the peaks of rocky ridges, I too will twirl and swing in the wind - knowing Late as darkness and Morning as daybreak, when the Appalachian sun emerges from the craggy ocean of mountains and shakes off, splashing light across the vast terrain.Then, and only then, will this cuckoo rest easy - with no concern for when he must emerge from his wooden house and call out to warn those who hear him, that yet another hour of time has gone forever, leaving only 23 more before your second chance is up.