There aren't very many things better than a walk to clear the mind. I do some of my best thinking on my afternoon walks to the school to pick up my kids. Yes, there are those days that I wimp out, when I hop in the car to pick up the kids. But we won't talk about those days... days like that rarely do anything for the creative spirit.
I have a routine. I leave the house at the same time every afternoon. I take the same route. I check the time on my cell at the same place everyday and 9 times out of 10 it's 2:37 pm. Yep, I am that weird.
Despite my neurosis, I love these walks. I tend to have a mini-epiphany each and every day at the same spot. It is like my brain sorts through the static until it gets onto the sidewalk on Waggoners Lane. A peak into the wooded area attached to Odell Park and WHAM, I am filled with all sorts of weird and wacky ideas.
So thank heavens for my cell phone. Why, you might ask? Well, because of my neurosis (did I mention I was neurotic?) I tend to muck around with my cell phone so that I don't have to socialize with the other parents standing and waiting outside the school for the bell to ring. It was this mucking about that lead to the discovery of my cell's memo pad. It only allows me 80 characters and I can only save 20 memos at a time, but the wacky thoughts I have while walking can now be recorded. No longer would they disappear like dreams which were never written down. A bad habit, one which I have yet to remedy.
Back to the memo pad. That the was the point, right? Here are some of the memos:
~ Notes written on cells... wows and what the hells?
~ Babies stare, as do their mothers.
~ It feels like Titan hockey sticks, frozen orange hockey balls & Mylec goalie pads.
~ Dudes that wanna small talk; don't they know the routine? Oh and the pacing... argh.
~ An inordinate amount of old men with canes today. A plot?
~ Both the Left and the Right are so blind with hate for the other side, that they are incapable of holding their own side accountable.
~ Is the most significant thing about Obama's Presidency gonna be the color of his skin? God I hope not!
~ I need an agent! Again with the dreams of grandeur. Or are they illusion?
~ To the dude wearing pink shoes, I am sorry I stared & giggled, but you were wearing pink shoes!
~ Now old fellas wearing pink hats. Did I not get the memo?
~ Is there anything more bleak than the crusty brown/gray snow after the January thaw?
~ Like zombies we trudge through the slush & snow.
~ Outside it as crisp as an ice cream headache.
There, random thoughts saved. My walks not a waste of time. Bundle up, put on some warm boots, trudge through some slush, but never, ever trust a fella with pinks shoes, pink hats or a cane.