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Getting By with a Little Help from My Friends

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For the first time this year, I went kayaking. It was Father’s Day and I put in on Lucy Creek just off of Sams Point Road. I was by myself but I wasn’t alone. I counted eight dolphins on that solitary expedition; two of them were a mother and her calf swimming side by side, heading toward the marsh grasses to feed on fish they would corral. It was a calm, dusty gray morning and the brackish water flowing around the kayak made a soft whir as it brushed against the boat’s polyethylene skin, filling the creek with a high tide. The backdrop of the gray-white sky highlighted the vivid green of our new summer cord grass.
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Destiny at the Bottom of a Cereal Bowl

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I don’t like adult cereal much. I love King Vitamin (which few people other than my brother and I really seem to know about) and like Frosted Flakes and Cocoa Krispies, but I’ll eat oatmeal, Raisin Bran and Grapenuts because I know I should and there’s a lot of what I should be doing going on in my life right now.
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Morbid Curiosity

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I’m a little ashamed of myself. I usually let headline news come to me. I don’t seek drama out. However, when the tragedy at Virginia Tech unfolded and we learned that Cho had mailed a multi-media information package to NBC the same day of his deadly massacre, I went to nbc.com to view the video. Because of blocks put on my company laptop, my access was denied and I was almost relieved when that prohibitive screen popped up. I never did view the video or hear Mr. Cho speak. Probably for the best. His message seems to be one of misguided retaliation and his methods left me speechless in our common quest to understand why.
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You are probably asking yourself, “What in the heck is riprap?” Maybe it’s some kind of make-believe word. You might assume it’s the newest trend in hip-hop music or some sort of new criminal tactic employed by a wily group of New York gang members intent on wreaking havoc. Riprap is a legitimate word and is defined by The American Heritage Dictionary as “a loose assemblage of broken stones erected in water or on soft ground as a foundation.” Remember this word the next time you overdose on R’s and P’s during your next game of Scrabble.
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Hearing the Stuff of Dreams

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I woke up this morning from a nightmarish vision of a man whose unshaven face was frozen in an expression much like the character in Edvard Munch’s The Scream. In my dream, the man could not speak. Instead, his dark, wide eyes stared directly into mine and I realized that the only way I could communicate with this living sculpture was through sight. It would be a very lonely and one-sided conversation.
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Turning from a Moment of Joy

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This past weekend, 4900 people were registered for the AWP Conference in Atlanta, GA. AWP is the acronym for the Association of Writers and Writing Programs. Attendance for this conference has doubled over the past several years and the 2007 meeting included approximately 2200 college and graduate level students. I had made the decision to attend this conference in the latter half of 2006. Atlanta is driving distance from Beaufort and I ended up combining my trip with work and personal business as I traveled from Beaufort to Columbia to Greer, eventually landing in Atlanta.
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