Life In The Slow Lane...
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San Diego, CA, United States
This is a commentary about the slow lane, about the slowing of time since I suffered a severe brain injury while skateboarding with my dog. This is a blog about recovery; about our '82 VW Westfalia. It's about writing, surfing, camping, married life, bleeding ulcers that make you feel old at 32; about family, friends, and my dog Artie; it's about cruising in fourth gear, getting passed by every car and learning to appreciate every second of it.

Sunday, January 3, 2010


I brought the new year in with a bang, four non-alcoholic brews while watching fellow bruised brainiac, Dick Clark. Two minutes after watching thousands of ridiculous looking people celebrate the new year, I was on my way towards my bed. It was my first new years since I was thirteen that I didn't have a drop of alcohol, or a smoke, or use some kind of recreational drug. It was the only new years eve that I didn't feel the need to make some weak resolution to try and become a better person. The reason is I'm not sure who I am, so I'm not sure what I need to change.

That was demonstrated on New Years Day. I woke up with an energy that I haven't felt in some time. I played Wii with a friend. I was more competitive than ever, dancing to the background music with every win and kicking the tiled fireplace with each loss. Afterwards I went surfing. This session was so much better. I stayed out for more than an hour. I had my balance and I had my strength. When I got back home I helped make dinner, and then watched Michael Douglas' horrible new release. I thought I had it back. For a few moments I actually started to believe that new years legend, that the new year marks a new beginning and not just another day.

The legend proved to be just that on the following day. I woke up feeling groggy.I tried my best to not show it. Two hours later, while helping Aimee out on a photo shoot, I couldn't fight it any longer. I had no energy. I was lightheaded, dazed, and bemused. During a break in the action, Aimee brought me home. I sat on my chair and watched Spider Man. I remained in a daze the entire time. My head felt heavy, my mouth was agape, and my eyes watered. I was done for the day and the night.

That's what I mean about not knowing who I am. One day, my energy is boundless, my vitality is abundant; the next I am a slobbering fool, struggling to stay upright, and fighting to look normal. On those days I want everyone to know that my brain is weak, that I am tampered goods. The others I'd rather no one know. So that was my new year, another reminder that i have absolutely no idea what the right pace is for my everyday. Each day is a lesson that is forgotten and changed with the new dawn.

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