I was driving around with my boys today when I passed this sign in someone's yard. It immediately spoke to me and I had to get a shot of it. The night before, my wife and I finally got around to watching "A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" which...if there is a ever a film, an iconic figurehead, or a sentiment that 2020 needs more now than ever? Look no further than Fred Rogers. Admittedly, the film broke me. I seldom cry in the presence of anyone including my wife and children. While I encourage my sons to cry any time they feel pain, to work it out, to acknowledge it, sadly I am not someone who feels comfortable crying in the company of others. Rather, since I am no longer a deeply depressed emotional drinker...you will rarely find me getting teary eyed. I don't want to spoil the film, suffice to say it felt apropos and delivered an emotional gut punch that I hadn't anticipated. Prior to this, the publisher of my first novel had e-mailed me with a copy of what the interior design team cooked up. It still hasn't hit me yet, primarily because there is still so much work to be done. I am about eight-four pages away from making my final corrections and notes to send to the publisher before a proper mock up will be made and sent my way. Here I am, I am achieving one of the most intangible goals I ever held for myself and it is stymied with the fear of being imperfect, the sorrow of certain individuals not living to see it, and those who are living not caring that it is coming to fruition. I think I am just emotional about it because its such a deeply personal story (yes, it is a work of fiction) for many reasons. I am very excited to get to share that with you all hopefully sooner rather than later. I woke up today from an email from @justin_karcher at @GhostCityPress that the poem I wrote for my second son will be appearing in their May issue! Once it goes live I will be sure to post a link and share it with you all. You should really check out the work that they publish at Ghost City Review. Admittedly this was maybe my fourth or fifth attempt at publication? I just, I needed to be in there. So many amazing writers and it became an obsession to write something that would really knock em dead. So here I am, with this book I have been diligently been proofing and a poem about my other son getting published and still feeling heavy from that film. Rather than exploring my frail psyche and the cumbersome emotional weight it reminded me of...I'd rather share some more pictures with all of you if that's ok? When I feel the weight of sadness about the past or my frustration with the way things have been lately threatening to adhere themselves to my optimism about the book, my kids, my wife, new hobbies, new passions, I just refer back to these pictures and think of Mister Rogers. I remember being in my sophomore year of high school sitting in one of my SPED science classes listening to WBCN on my headphones. DJ Nik Carter had broke the news of Fred's passing as "No Rain" by Blind Melon started to play. I remember like it was yesterday as masterful as Nik could always be he simply said "Fred Rogers has died, Shannon? (the late singer of the group) Take good care of him up there." My final class was english and I had been asked to write something on the overhead projector for an assignment, I remember this because I have always been one to pay homage (sometimes inappropriately) and our young instructor was being reviewed by both the principal and head of the English department when I took the time to draw a smiley face followed by RIP Mister Rogers before doing the assignment. She was HORRIFIED, but the looks on her superiors faces told a different story. Smiles. Respect. Hope.
As long as we still have tomorrow? We still have hope. Hope is not cancelled. Tomorrow is a new day. Make it a great one!
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