When I was alone, you promised a stone from your heart

Atypically, I was wide awake last night up until 3:30, when I forced myself to hit the hay. Even then, with the lights out and me under the blankets, I stayed awake, actively listening to Werner Herzog's commentary over Encounters At The End Of The World. Most often, I fall asleep within ten minutes of whatever I'm listening to, whether it be director's commentary or a podcast, no matter how riveting it is. Not last night.

I woke up around seven thirty and couldn't get back to sleep. It wasn't my thoughts that kept me awake, but something else, something below the surface that I couldn't identify. Maybe the anticipation of seeing the family, who knows. What was odd, was that I'd slip into the makings of a dream and right at the point when it was about to inhale me completely, I'd wake up. This happened a lot. Don't know why.

I decided to take 93 to my parent's house( This is the first year of my life having Thanksgiving anywhere other than my grandmother's house. She's almost 92 and just wasn't up to having it at her house) The highway was a parking lot. I thought it would take me forever to get to my parent's house, but, fortunately, the traffic abated a bit and I was only a few minutes late. I even beat my sister and her family to the house.

When they showed up, the house errupted in coughing and hacking. My sister's entire family was sick; they were barely up to a meal. They also weren't going to my grandmother's house in Lexington for dessert like the rest of us.

The meal was delicious; my mother did an exemplary job. Before we ate, my father pointed out a dog walking in the woods behind the house. I looked, but couldn't see it. He said the dog was back there yesterday. He figured it had gotten away from its owners. My sister heard him say that and mentioned seeing fliers pinned to several telephone poles on the street. They reported a missing dog.

I ran outside and read the flier. I took a long look at the picture -- it looked to be a chocolate lab pit bull hybrid. I went back inside and had my dad describe the dog. He described the dog in the photo. I ran back outside and called the first of two numbers listed on the flier. No answer. I called the second number. No answer. This time I left a message.

After we ate, I took some turkey and a roll, put in a bag and ventured out into the woods to see if I could locate the dog. Being out there brought back memories. I used to frequent those woods when I was younger, especially in my teens. I'd bring Mandy, the dog of my youth, and we'd enjoy the peace and quiet. It was good therapy, which I often needed. I often dream of running between the trees, soundless in the soft night of my subterranean soul.

I went deep into the woods, but no sign of the dog. I needed to find it. I prayed to nothing in particular to guide me to the dog or it to me. It was Thanksgiving, I was meant to find the dog and return it to its family. The flier had gone up a week or so ago, I was told; it saddened me to think this poor dog was lost and alone for all that time. It was probably hungry and cold. I needed to find it.

I kept checking my phone to see if the dog's owners had called back. They hadn't. Initially, my hope was that they would have answered when I called or at least called me right away so they could have joined me in the search. Alas, it was just me, and the dog was nowhere to be found.

On my return to the house, I heard a commotion coming from one of the houses at the edge of the woods opposite my parent's house. Several men in polo shirts and sweaters poured out onto the deck, one of them gesturing wildly in my direction. "Hey, there's someone in the woods" he bellowed.

I was mystified. Did I really just hear him say that? The men called out to me, but I couldn't tell what they were saying. I was about a hundred yards away from them, a solitary figure walking in the woods minding his own business trying to find a dog, and I've got a bunch of guys yelling at me for it. I could see if I was back there with a gun trained on the house or was peering into their windows with a pair of binoculars, but all I was doing was walking, something I used to do all the time back there. Pricks.

I returned to my parent's house dog-less with muddy feet. I was disappointed, but I still have hope the dog will be seen again. I left the owner's numbers with my parents. It's eleven thirty and neither of the dog's owners has called me back. Pricks.

Not a full house at my grandmother's place, but it was still nice seeing my relatives. I tried convincing my Uncle and one of my cousins that my father has been watching Glee every week and is a big, big fan. Whether they believed me or not, they gave my dad shit about it as he look dumbfounded. He had no idea what Glee was.

But I do. Mara convinced me to watch an episode with her the other night. I shan't being watching any others.

I will, however watch something tonight. That is, if I don't decide to work on a new song that I'm really digging. It's in heavy rotation in my mind. And so are you. Yeah, you know who you are.

Been listening to a lot of Syd Barrett lately. Heard Opel for the first time last night. Haunting, that.

I've been developing an idea for a TV show called Law & Order: Animal Kingdom. The premise is animals being tried by humans for their crimes against other animals.

"Is it true, Mr. Lion, that before you killed the gazelle, you told several members of your pride that you were going to do it?"

"Yes, that is correct"

"And isn't it also true that you ate the gazelle after you murdered it?"

(Gasp from the jury)

"Why, yes I did. That was the whole point of killing it."

"You are a sick individual, Mr. Lion. Do you realize that?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? I was hungry!"


I'm hoping the show will be picked up and aired right after Glee, my father's favorite show.