Category: Storytelling

Real Talk, Storytelling, The Human Condition

Spring Cleaning In September

When what you hold dear
Starts to disappear
You can tell what you trust
By the things that you fear

You can look for me baby,
But baby I’ll be long gone

  • Fiction Family, “Look For Me Baby”

Maybe things should be simpler. Does it always have to be so difficult to be an adult? Bills keep coming in and demanding the resources that you’ve traded in so much of your time, your very existence, in order to acquire. Surely life could be different than this, and if not, at least it could be simpler. Continue reading “Spring Cleaning In September”

Real Talk, Storytelling, The Human Condition

John

I met John years ago in what feels now like a totally different life. He was an experienced disk jockey at the classic rock radio station, and I was a part-time employee and college student. He had dedicated a great deal of his life to making it in this business, and I was wondering whether I even cared enough to try.

If I learned anything from my brief time working in radio, it was that you had to be married to the job in every sort of way in order to make it anywhere. My time certainly was brief. Just barely over a year as a paid intern and part-time weekend shift kid before they told me via email that they were having to do away with all us little people. Downsized via email. Odd experience.

The job took dedication that I didn’t have. A lot of the people who worked for years in the business to have a stable career didn’t have what most could consider a stable life outside of it. At least, the ones I interacted with were like that. Granted, they were often the ones at the classic rock part of the studio, so it could very well be that the ones working in oldies and news had more going for them. I didn’t know them as well. Continue reading “John”

Real Talk, Storytelling

Fly High, 65

The cars have lined the neighborhood streets, as teenagers flood out of the vehicles in school colors and painted faces. Many of the vehicles are still painted as well. Their windows marked with the motto that was introduced to our city on Friday night just a week before.

Pray For Walker.

Earlier in the day, hundreds drove to a funeral that shouldn’t happen. We’re not supposed to have funerals for teenagers. Yet as they drove, they passed by brightly lit red and blue billboards, the colors of Jackson Prep. They had a simple message written on them as well: the number 65, Walker’s number. It was a reminder to those driving by and to the whole community that they were not driving to a funeral. They were headed towards a celebration of a spectacular young life.

“I think your second post starts tonight.”

A youth minister’s words hit me as we walked past the cars together. I knew he was right. There was plenty more to write, and he knew exactly what those words needed to say.

“The healing starts now.” Continue reading “Fly High, 65”

Misplaced Mississippian, Storytelling, The You, Kay?

Impossible Soul

This is my last post based on my journaling or diarying or whatever it was I was doing while I was in the United Kingdom. Either way, I had a lot of thoughts and experiences that really encouraged me and I just wanted to share. If you’ve read any of it, thanks.

March 14

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Even though our flights on on the 14th, the trip home actually starts on the night of the 13th as we sit in the hotel lobby charging phones and allowing ourselves to finally feel like we didn’t have to be somewhere right then and there. There’s an odd feeling of traveling exhaustion when parts of your trip feel as though they were two months ago, yet you also still can’t believe you’re already about to head home.

Home. There’s a fatigue I feel when I’m away from my muddy broken home for too long. I tend to lose my charge when I haven’t heard a “y’all” in a while. This trip didn’t have that, however. Not to the same extent, at least. I felt more at home here in London and Edinburgh than I have with other places I’ve been, even if I was rushed. Things started rushed, and since we’re trying to see as much of these countries as we can in only a week time, it has felt like a bit of a blur. Two months of living crammed into seven days.

Continue reading “Impossible Soul”

Misplaced Mississippian, Storytelling, The You, Kay?

Greenback Boogie

Obligatory link to the other posts about my trip.

March 13

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“For we fight not for glory, nor riches, nor honours, but for Freedom alone, which no good man gives up except with his life.” – excerpt from the Declaration of Arbroath

“The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God. There shall no evil happen to them: they are in peace.” – Scottish War Memorial

It’s no secret that the Scots are proud of their military history. They’re known for being feisty people and don’t exactly try to hide the monuments to freedom fighters William Wallace and Robert Bruce that stand in front of Edinburgh Castle. The Castle itself, built for function and not style, has cannons set up all along the outside wall, showing how prepared it was to deal with intruders. Resting above the entrance to the castle is the Scottish Coat of Arms, which includes the motto “Nemo Me Impune Lacessit”, which roughly translates into “No one attacks me without punishment.”

Simply put, Scots aren’t afraid of a fight.

Continue reading “Greenback Boogie”