Cycling in support of Limbs For Life

Cycling in support of Limbs For Life
Cycling in support of Limbs For Life

Saturday, April 6, 2013


This morning I stumbled upon this word:.


  [kiz-mit, -met, kis-]  
fate; destiny.

This is what came to mind:

   I must have been in first or second grade. The first term of the Reagan administration and the heyday of New Wave. We lived in Redwood city, California and I went to Clifford elementary school. Everyday at the end of class, my older sister, twin cousins and I were picked up by my mother. We would wait at the edge of the parking lot and she would drive up in a yellow VW bus. One day she was running late, so my little buddy Alex and I decided to walk home. It seemed no big deal. I told my sister to just tell mom that "I'm walking" and I'll be home later. Despite her protests we set off.
   I knew the way. I didn't think twice about getting lost. Alex and I took the creek instead of the road, sword fighting and hunting frogs along the way. I imagined that it was the way we lived and we had to survive. Balancing fences between back yards, sneaking water from garden hoses and diving in hedges. Finally the adventure was real and not just daydreams and back yard imagination. I was in a zone, it all made sense. I was never more sure of what I was doing and in complete bliss.
   Our house was about 2 1/2 miles across town from the school. Though first I walked Alex home, to a area  I had never been to. On the way back, I remember, I stopped to ask directions. The person at the pet store I went into seemed perfectly fine with a muddy seven year old asking street directions. Like it happened everyday. Once back on familiar territory it was just a simple jaunt home. It was dusk when I rounded the corner of our block.
    I had just had the best day of my young life. Little did I know then how much it would effect the rest of my life. It was the freedom I felt, but more, that point when I was in total control and so at ease in my unknown surroundings. I could see the rhythm. I could feel and taste the experience. I thought that I could mold the earth and time as I needed. I could get anywhere I wanted by just going. From that day on, I was a traveler.
  And, that day- I got in a lot of fuckin trouble. When I saw our house and saw friends and neighbors cars all parked there, I thought we were having a party. Yea, it was the recent return of the Kurt search party. I walked in the door wondering what was going on and if I could walk home everyday. After my mother was done crying and hugging me I found the answer was clearly- NO. The "journeys" would have to wait a few years.

  Word manglers note: I wrote this as the start of a small series that should help to explain "What started all of this" question.


  1. always excellent and heart warming, no matter how many times it's been heard. glad you got it written down. looking forward to more of these...

  2. Ya never get any better at anything if you don't practice. Right?