I know how each slab of sidewalk on my street is laid down because for the longest time I had to ride my bike on it and not out in the road. Some patches have been redone since the olden days, and they are a brighter color of concrete. Other sections of sidewalk are very uneven and just asking to be jumped over with a pop wheelie. It's favorable or unfavorable topography, depending on who you ask. In the years between training wheels and drivers ed I remember being pretty content but sometimes bored with being home, where on a summer afternoon the farthest you could get away was as far as you could pedal. I also remember something involving driving range golf balls and a gold aluminum baseball bat, which is now far too small for me but at the time made a great PING sound in little league games and also at the foot of my driveway. I'm not really sure why I did it, because I never got the balls back, and it's not like I was trying to destroy private property. My best guess is that it felt good, hearing the sharp ping and seeing the sucker fly down the hill (whose elevation appears to have become less steep every year until I stopped growing and finished at six foot three-and-a-half). Where am I going with all this...

It's late. I just drove home through backroads, crossing state lines because I can. It wasn't done for nostalgia's sake, but it might as well have. Meeting up with pals at one spot, organizing a motorcade elsewhere, watch bad movies/delight in multiplayer video games/strum a guitar missing its high-E string. Of course, there are many variations on this theme, some of which have very rewarding and memorable results. It's these memories I'm afraid to lose and afraid to keep creating... here. Not there... I'm not worried about there, because that's taken care of. So much potential exists there that everything can completely change in a matter of days, hours, minutes and I could never see it coming... of course, the wonderful thing is that I don't have to see it coming. Regressing to the late night driving imagery, I think it's comparable to driving on a twisting two lane road in a fog or a light rain. You're just keeping your left tires parallel to that double yellow line, and with your remaining energy following those headlights ahead of you or watching out for heedless deer (you just miss the big one). I'm no good at getting lost either... I'll rephrase that: I'm no good at dealing with getting lost. However, I think those become the most memorable times and after some practice I got good at telling myself, "you're going to wake up in your bed tomorrow morning after sleeping no less than 8 hours, refreshed and ready to get all sorts of lost again."

I also wanted to talk about legos, forgetting songs on the piano, and UN resolutions. Here's to reminders.