It’s windy at the top of a light house, about 100 feet up. And wind makes my eyes water pretty quickly (if I sit at the front of a roller coaster, I come off the ride looking like I have just experienced an emotional breakthrough).
The tour guide was standing next to me.
“The wind makes me cry,” I say, as an explanation for the waterworks.
“Yeah,” she says laughing, then quickly hides the smile and adds, “it really is a beautiful view.”
Wait … crap.
At that point I’m convinced all she heard me say was cry, and she thinks I’m crying because of the view. She thought I was joking at first, then noticed the tears, and wow, we’ve got a real emotional fella over here.
I mention, casually, about three times over the course of the next five minutes, how windy conditions make my eyes water. I can’t mention it enough. And I realize, my over-the-top casual mentions of this have probably confirmed to her that I cry when I see pretty views.
If you visit Australia, and a stereotype for Americans is that we cry at pretty views … well, now you’ll know where it came from.
I moved to California in February 2008. It was tough for a couple reasons – but I won’t get into that now.
Anyhow, one night I was driving home and I was thinking about a bunch of things, among them this kind of thing (short version: my mom came with me to California, drove me to work and dropped me off then was heading back to Arizona. In dropping me off, she started to cry – which got me crying).
Mother’s Day was coming up on that particular night – so I thought up this “poem.” The word poem, as per usual on this site, is used very loosely.
When I see you cry,
It makes me cry.
So I just wanted to say,
In addition to the “poem” there’d be two sad faces. And, because my sense of humor is weird – I thought this would be hysterical if done in crayon.
After finishing up the “Mother’s Day” stuff I put it into a book. I was going to see my family in June, so I called the book “Happy Whatever Day It Is!” I had two copies printed from Blurb.com (a site that lets you print your own books – thus allowing me to feel like a legit author, without the hassle of needing talent/luck/whatever). Here for your entertainment/fear are some of the things from the book.
In short – sort of funny, sort of pathetic, sort of endearing … Sort of Brad Stanley (zing!).
(Oh ANNNNND – The pause button will probably be needed – it goes too fast and I’m too lazy to fix it. Sorry folks.)