Luther

I am now at Luther. And I miss not being here this year. I can feel it, just walking around. I don't like the fact that I'm not stressed out about music auditions, or burdened with homework. I miss not leading the swing club, or going to the cafeteria right after band. Man, I miss everything. It will be hard to get used to this. Well, I'll be back in one year.

Baseball

It's late at night. I just finished watching "Field of Dreams," and it inspired me to meditate a bit on something. As I look back on my life, I realize that I am a person of very strong passions, that occasionally ebb and flow. But nonetheless, the passion is always there. I found myself getting chilled and teary eyed at the end of the aforementioned movie, at the sight of a father and son playing catch. It brought me back a long time ago, to the Nyquist family baseball diamond. I remember it distinctly. Home plate was the north wall of the house, the large evergreen constituted first. Bauman's tree was 2nd, and that one tree just in the side yard was third. I remember my dad pitching to me, as I proudly donned my Farmington Youth Baseball jersey and hat. Was it third grade, in the Athletics jersey? Who knows. Sam, my neighbor played all 8 positions, and I had to double as the catcher for the balls I whiffed on. I remember being driven to the middle school, or Akin Road, or Hill Dee, and running out with my new cleats, my gray pants and black striped baseball socks. I remember the dust that settled on my worn away glove. My parents in the assembly line of adults, sitting in lawn chairs along the baselines. The sunflower seeds, the water jugs, the switching of hat positions to try and transfer new karma to our team. I remember Dad taking me to the Metrodome, and telling me about Kirby Puckett. I remember Game 6, when it seemed that he won it for us all by himself. I didn't want 1991 to end, because I was so happy that we won. Those years, when I dutifully wore my Twins shirts to middle school, constantly being ridiculed, but constantly trying to make bets on how many games the Twins will win the World Series by. I couldn't give up. The shrine in the music room. The ritualistic visit to Matt's before the game. The swing of the bat, the beauty of the game. A game that in so many ways, defines us. That in so many ways, reminds us of the Good. Joy, fear, exuberance, sadness, euphoria all contained in a single, beautiful swing. Trying to fend off the sun as you stare intently at the infield. Or in Minnesota's case, trying to avoid the floodlights on the Teflon sky. The appreciation of the crowd to the beloved home team. Take Me Out To The Ballgame. The joy when your team wins and the sadness when you lose. But always, always, confident that next year will be the year. The feeling you get when picking up a glove after 10 years of absence. Missing every grounder hit to you, your weak arm throwing halfway to the nearest player, the inability to even get close to hitting the ball. But you don't care. All you feel is happiness, that you are back to doing something you love. Something you love, but forgot. When I was young, I loved playing the game of baseball. Then, something left me, and I wish I could change that. I wish I would have continued the game. But I didn't. Now I just hope I can pick up some of it. To experience some of that pure love of playing the game that I once had. Many things in this world are bad, teach us that life is hopeless, that evil is all around. But this game, man, none of that appears. In its purest form, devoid of steroid scandals, outrageous salaries, petulant players, we can see ourselves. My father gave me a love of the game. He is not a ballplayer, but he understood the importance of the game. That has always been a common ground for us throughout the years. Going to see the Twins, together. It truly is a game unique to fathers and sons. I'm confident it could also be between mothers and daughters, or fathers and daughters, or any combination. I dream of having a family, of having children. I may never own my own field in a cornfield, but a house, and 3 trees will do. A simple game of catch, be it with a softball or a baseball. A love of the game. Hopefully a love of my beloved Twins. I want my children to know this. Our game. But more than that. Our experience.

Sunday

I miss not going back to Luther on Sunday.

Humanities

I'm a firm believer in the humanities. I think the world would be a better place if everyone was well versed in the classics. I think people should know a little of a foreign language, and appreciate art and music. I'm not talking about shitty ass music either, like Britney Spears. Real music. I think this is one of the reasons I feel distanced from certain people, is this notion of what it means to be human. I don't know, lately I've been thinking about what it means to be a student, to be wrapped up in this world of academia. I've been thinking about what a glorious opportunity this time of life is, to be able to devote oneself towards the pursuit of knowledge and learning. Man that's cool. And I don't think I've fully realized that opportunity yet. I've taken time to start learning the art of the trombone, but I haven't applied myself with the same vigor to learning. I mean, I get good grades, but I haven't really read a whole lot just for the sheer joy of learning, you know? I'd like to do that. Last night, I bought The Prince, by Machiavelli, The Symposium, by Plato, and Mere Christianity, by C.S. Lewis. I really liked Plato's stuff from my philosophy class, and I didn't want to get into anything unfamiliar like Nietzche or Kant just yet. I've always wanted to read The Prince because of the role it played in European history. And Mere Christianity, I just heard it was good. I'm sort of undergoing a time in my life where I am establishing what my faith consists of. Christian faith. But the Christian faith that you just get taught doesn't satisfy me. It's time to take my faith into my own hands, and figure out just what I believe. Reading Plato and Aristotle really helped spur thoughts like that this fall, so I'm looking forward towards digging into some more philosophy. I'm also on a mission to build up a jazz library. I got to fulfill a summer-long ambition on Sunday, and listen to some music at the Dakota jazz club in Minneapolis. Man, it was so much fun. I enjoyed myself immensely. Man, there is nothing like swinging live jazz to make you feel good. I mean swinging in the metaphysical jazz language sense, because the group I saw was sort of an Afro-Brazillian fusion group. But they were sweet. Anyways, time to go to work soon. Hope everyone is well.

Dancing

I went swing dancing tonight. It was a really good thing for me to do. Not only was it really fun, but it helped alleviate some fears I had been having regarding the opposite gender. My continual ineffectiveness regarding dating had left me feeling that I could never have comfortable relationships with women, in any condition. I felt I was doomed to be forever awkward. Or worse, that I would end up like Steve Carell in "The 40 Year Old Virgin." But I don't know, it was good to have girls ask me to dance, and to be able to smile and laugh with them. And dance. Damn, I danced with this one girl who was easily the best dancer I've ever partnered with. Her name is Kate, and she is a freak. It was almost a spiritual experience, the blending of the music and the movement we made. I looked like a schmuck, but crap was she awesome. I danced with her twice, and when she left, I wished her a good night. I should have asked if she'd be there next week. Dang it. I thought I saw her glancing at me a couple times when I was dancing with someone else.... Anyways, it was good to spend time with some old friends who drove me to the place. It was really interesting to hear some of their frustrations, fears, and dreams. Most of them involved the opposite gender, which of course I'm not very good at answering. But you know, we're all at different stages, but most people share the same dream. The dream of love. Will it be with the mysterious girl going to England? Some English girl? My French friend? Kate the awesome dancer? A girl I won't meet for another 5 years? Who knows? One can only dream.