Sometimes after Lisa and I do our early-morning 4 mile run (we treadmill in the basement fitness center if it’s under 43 degrees), I come back and lie on my bed, for just for a moment. This morning it was just as the sun broke over the horizon and a pink light crawled across my ceiling, highlighting every imperfection, like craters and mountains on some distant, barren planet. My Apple watch went chikle-inkle-lnkle. Ok, Time to start the day.

Later…

Leong got a new ‘Girls Life’ magazine, those always seem packed with the latest scientific info.
“Studies suggest that you and your deepest friends may share the same blood types!” Leong read aloud.
“I’m O-negative,” she announced, “What blood type are you?” She asked me.
“Red,” I revealed (I am, after all, pre-med).
“DElicious reddd,” Lisa updogged in a Bela Lugosi vampire voice.

“Americans are never serious,” Leong whinged, her voice rising and falling on the last syllables.
“That’s what makes us what we are today,” Lisa asserted, “a slowly, steadily, declining superpower.”
“We could join the military after Yale,” I suggested helpfully, “I bet they’d make us officers.”
“Oh sure, I heard the army’s making men out women these days,” Lisa agreed.
“Sounds messy,” I said, wincing.”

The joy of my baby right before me
But I can't seem to feel it.

Loving husband on my side
But I can't seem to see it.

Precious friends with a lifeline
But I can't seem to grasp it.

A mist has settled all around
I must find my way through it.

One evening, in a sleepy Connecticut town, the locals saw a peculiar sight,
a UAP had landed in an empty field, and man, it lit up the night.

They were, axiomatically, from a distant galaxy, here to explore our shared cosmic space,
their metallic-*******-rocket was multicolor pastel bright, like a carnival showcase.

There were cows that mooed approvingly and dogs that barked up at the sky,
like they needed to show where the thing came from - no one really knew why.

Soon little green people-like beings emerged, they had big, wide eyes that looked eerie,
but then again, this is how they’d always looked in movies and on TV.

"Take us to your leader," they said, but it was hard to take them seriously,
because this is America and most of us disagree on who that leader should be.

Someone brought out lawn chairs and the alien-astronauts settled in,
tables appeared shortly thereafter with a spread of pies, casseroles and fried chicken.

They spoke of their interstellar journeys, of planets far and wide,
of space cafes and wormhole highways and how gravity worked like tides.

One of the kids played some music and the explorers started to move,
soon we were having a dance-off - which they won - with some wacky, cosmic moves.

As morning light edged the horizon, our little green friends waved goodbye,
after saying that in some ways they envied us and our simple terrestrial lives.

Though they never promised to revisit, when the sky turns certain shade of blue,
townsfolk will set up a pasture party - just in case they do.

I'm not here to judge your perspective
We were in the same place but our childhoods were different
We saw and felt different things
It's not a bad word, it's the way we perceived and lived through everything

We may have been in the same places,
but couldn't see through each other's faces.
We both had our bad experiences
and found ways to get through them

It's been so hard for me to let go
but after we spoke I think I finally know,
I can't do the work for you,
You have to want to evolve for you.

I can't tell you every story I have
and believe you'll understand where I stand or where I've stood,
You have your own desk where you'll write your book
Although it hurt, because I had so much hope.

You preached so much to me about how we should be close-
You told me how you wished for a relationship to grow,
You said I never shared, never asked and never cared.
I feel like I tried so much but your words make me feel unaware.

It hurt when you told me I hide,
Probably because there's some truth to it,
that hurt me deeply inside.
I have masked around our family for as long as I can remember.

I learned so early that I wasn't what was wanted
I was only loved when I went along and nodded
I always agreed, except for when I couldn't
I'd say no to things to avoid the acting

I hated that I had to be a certain way
To stay free of your judgement
I couldn't wear the shoes I wanted,
or play the songs I liked in the car without hearing your homophobic comments

Having to become every expectation
It is how I have lived for so long
I'm so burnt out now
and I finally don't have to be strong.

I went along with it to avoid the uncomfortable feelings I had,
Every time I would have to be around you
I put up with things I should've never had to.
I'm talking about your husband putting your cat on my face when I was asleep and he knew I was allergic.

The more I reflect, the more I see it
Everything you've projected on me
To avoid your own feelings
The clothes, the music, the comments, the expectation of who you wanted me to be-

I'm sorry you feel like you can't keep growing
Now that you're older and have your own family
It must be so painful to be stagnant
When you want to fly with sunflowers

I hate that I make you feel negatively
and there's nothing I can say to help you
I tried the hardest I could to be honest
and because I did my best, I am now free of my mask of burdens

Tonight after an isolating illness,
propelled beyond my darkness,
I walked into a universe of light
where stars are swallowed
into black holes
spreading their energy and light
into and beyond the shame or blight
dragged along by each
stumbling with the baggage of their histories,
then recovering
his balance.

It snaps in
With a sigh
Of relief.
Seems like
My mind was missing
A few puzzle pieces.

But you,
You fit right in.

And somehow
In my sadder times
I let go
Of friends close to me
friendships like poetry

But I still think of them
And reflect in reminiscence
On happiness shared
sadness disclosed

And as friends do, they enriched my life
Taught me a thing or two
So precious
And will always be
Those friendships like poetry

I wish them well
Wherever they might be
As they say, though not seen,
Still they are, hidden somewhere, like stars

thoughts of tinsel and garland and stolen kisses under
mistletoe, of snow-covered walks, the prismed flakes
gathered garishly to glisten under the evening lamplight

of friends and family bearing cakes and drinks,
of hearty hugs and Santa hats, and toothy grins and silly
smiles of neighbors happily in their cups

the many pages since fallen from the calendar,
all shadows now, etched in their loveliest,
flawless in mind’s eye

We’re in NYC - at last - on Christmas vacation, and it feels like a pardon.

It’s amazing what can happen in just a few wild and change-filled hours. One minute, seemingly, you’re in a picture postcard rural-scape (I think campus fits that), where crickets choir in rhythm, and the next you're in a Manhattan high-rise 50th floor kitchen, eating Fruity Pebbles for breakfast and looking down on man's lesser creations.

It’s 9am, 37° and clear this morning. Central Park looks bright and multicolored, like the lonely rectangle of nature was determined to spend its last fall day in spectacle. The sun’s glowing too, warming the earth with the glory of heaven. Its beams are so bright and crisp, that even the deeper shadows seem fair.

“I think I just saw a UFO,” I said to no one in particular, a second after something whizzed by the kitchen window.
“A UAP,” Leeza (Lisa’s 14 yo sister) corrected me, “and it was a helicopter,” she updogged.
“Then it wasn’t a UAP?” I asked, as if confused.
Leeza carefully selected a blue pebble-flake and flicked it at me - I ducked - because she can be deadly accurate with those things.
Leeza gets prettier every time I see her, she has deep-dark, wavy red hair brushed with copper highlights, green eyes and the coltish beauty of adolescence. She’s taller than me now, which seems somehow unfair.

Lisa’s front door chimed, and two voices called “Morning!” It was Will & Karen, two friends who live with the poor people down on the 46th floor. “Morning!” They repeated again, as they came into the kitchen. Will’s 20 and Karen’s a salty 12. Since Lisa’s mom is named Karen too, I’m going to shorten 12-yo Karen’s name to Kay.
“What’s for breakfast?” Will asked, looking around. Kay, a slim, waif-like pixie with jet-black hair, went over to Leeza, opening her mouth like a little bird and Leeza fed her a spoonful of Fruity Pebbles and milk as if practiced.

The morning I met Kay, two years ago (when she was 10), she offhandedly told me Will ‘liked’ me. While nothing ever came of that - we’re just friends - I always feel kind of ‘attractive’ around him - you know what I mean? Like I hold the jewel of his esteem. I mention that, because Lisa and I made an early start, abandoning morning vanities for a 7am hop-over Long Island Sound. I probably look like something evolution hasn’t bothered with - but let’s bowdlerize that.

Lisa’s in the living room rearranging the presents - it’s her job as the official head-elf. When Lisa and I came in, Leeza grabbed me by the hand, dragging me towards the guest bedroom, “Look at all the packages,” She marveled.
“Maybe I got carried away,” I admitted, looking at them for the first time.
“You’re obsessive,” she pronounced. “Ya think,” I snarked, “have we met?” I asked jokingly, while offering her my hand as if in introduction.

We’re going shopping in a bit - as soon as Charles gets back from settling in at the Ritz Carlton (about a block away). We want the fevered and manic NYC-Christmas shopping experience - the chill air, the gabble and fuss of the crowds and the joy of the season passing person to person, like bacteria trading plasmids.
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Like Christmas tunes?
Stream one or two of MY (free) unique Christmas playlists.
Enjoy, and Merry Christmas!
http://daweb.us/xmas/