Good Morning

It's Easter 2008, and no one has been able to explain the correlation between this as a fundamentally important Catholic holiday and the tradition of an abnormally large white rabbit hiding colorful eggs and chocolate from children. I didn't wake up with candy somewhere in the house, nor did I put on my Sunday best and go to church. I woke up this morning, just before six am, to the sound of someone rattling my front door. To put it more accurately, it was the sloppy sound of a drunken hand trying to stick a car key in my front door. Needless to say, I didn't need a snooze alarm. I got to the peephole just in time to see a bald head swaying, trying to focus motor skills, not expecting me to turn out the porch light. That was unexpected moment #1. He backed away after a delayed reaction, fell ass first onto my lawn, then staggerred off to the left out of view. That's when I opened the door, kicked his keys out, then closed and locked the screen door, followed by the main door. That was unexpected moment #2, which resulted in his zombie like path off to the right and down the street. When I left my house two hours later for San Diego, I noticed his keys and his...socks. The scene was everything Cinderella isn't.

I didn't care. I needed to get out of the house, out of the city.

The trip down to San Diego, and especially Balboa Park, should not be taken for granted. Once past the grey/brown haze, there are rounded green hills, gorgeous fields and valleys, and the very self-absorbed but mind-numbingly huge Pacific Ocean just out of reach in its own playground. Just now, as I write this hours later, I feel like I just took my first breath. Los Angeles doesn't allow you to breathe, and the journey South steals it.

And so, I've been practicing the delicate balance between wondering about my future and surrendering to it. Today alone, I saw things I didn't expect: the people and artifacts of Pompeii, a sexy grilled portobello mushroom sandwich that made eating it feel like an ilicit affair, an amazing photography exhibit, and a sign announcing an Ozzy Ozbourne tribute at the Santa Fe Springs swap meet. I think the theme of the day probably applies to me as much as it applies to religion and candy egg hunting. Everything lends itself to the next thing, regardless of what you choose to pay attention to. Sometimes the moments of your life fall like cherry blossom petals in a soft breeze, and sometimes they're the chocolate bon bons on the conveyor belt next to Lucy and Ethel. There is a progression that makes us wiser, smarter in a way, but again, that depends on how and when we recognize it. Wherever you're sitting, you are moving at about 1000 miles per hour, simply by the fact that you are sitting on Earth. You can choose to say that you're going nowhere, or you can realize that you are racing towards tomorrow. It's up to you.

In the movie "Singing in the Rain," Don Lockwood is being consoled by his friends Cosmo and Kathy after a disastrous opening of his film, The Dueling Cavalier. It was a technological mess, a shallow story showing the lack of the stars' acting chops. They were used to things as the way they were, and suddenly, they were thrust in the position of being left behind by the entertainment industry, of becoming obsolete. That was March 22nd. On March 23rd, Cosmo came up with an idea that not only pulled them back into the game, it saved the film and put them way ahead. That was one moment. One idea. They took it and danced and sang the rest of the way.

Here's to hope and being awake enough to see the moment when it comes.