Captain’s log, Stardate 03152014: a madness has overtaken me, not unlike the time I took a sophomore to see The Little Mermaid with the intention of breaking up with her in the parking lot after the movie. We had engaged in a full day of activities which exhausted the crew, but I nevertheless chose to leave for home without a hope of arriving before midnight. The traffic into and through Houston was Hellish, which begs the question whether Houston has cancelled Saturdays. We are driving into a thunderstorm and, by some accounts, a hailstorm as well. But like Ahab, I will not be deterred from my quest for the White Whale of a decent night’s sleep. The bed in which I have been “sleeping” – a word I use very loosely in this context – affords only somewhat more comfort than would a night of sleeping on the bony ass of Lara Flynn Boyle.
As we chart our course homeward, I reflect on how my crew is not the same crew with whom I started this voyage. We are all stronger, wiser, more resilient, and less daunted by the limits we once imposed upon ourselves. We have learned many lessons. Bathing is overrated. Nutrition is optional. Ice cream sandwiches are in all ways inferior to Drumsticks. When things go wrong, it’s sometimes better than when they go right. The happiness of children is of immeasurable worth, and deserves thoughtful cultivation, even and perhaps especially when it’s inconvenient. And a ridiculous man, doing ridiculous things to delight his ridiculous kids, can find meaning and beauty everywhere.
Wish us Godspeed. Hamilton out.