Cold, rainy, muddy comfort

I've reached the beginning of the end of my latest little funk, and all it took was calling up a friend Mary and saying the words "Fritschie bored."

And not a moment too soon. She was getting ready to head to Guthrie for the bluegrass festival, and without missing a beat, she instructed me to fill an ice chest with beer and snacks, pack a change of clothes and some camping supplies, and be ready to be picked up in about an hour.

I did as I was told, left Chuckles an extra scoop of food and we headed out to Guthrie. Acting entirely on impulse, it turned out to be just the thing I needed to recharge my batteries and get away from my life, if only for a day.

In addition to the thrill of acting on a wild impulse, I wound up being a great surprise to our friends who were already at the festival. We wound up not even going to the festival and instead just hanging around the campsite, having fun, eating good food and making friends with our camp neighbors. We all split a bottle of whiskey, got completely lit, and had a great time. For the first time in almost two weeks, I was genuinely happy.

It rained most of the night, but that never slowed us down or dampened our mood. Our neighbors had a huge tent set up and everyone had their instruments out playing anything that came to their minds. I got to sit outside the tent, let the rain mist all over me, the heat from the campfire at my back, and I was able to get completely lost and sort out everything in my head.

I came to realize that all of the changes I've been trying to make in my life, all those little things that have become much bigger than anticipated, all those big plans I've started to initiate need some revision. In my mind, I had everything laid out in front of me, and patterns started to flash before me like in A Beautiful Mind. I finally got a clear view of everything that's been done half-assed, over-done, and gone about completely the wrong way. And unlike A Beautiful Mind, I was left with absolutely no paranoia.

Patience is the key to everything working out. It's as if the engine had stalled and I got out to push, never even thinking to try the ignition again. Everything that's been bugging me melted away completely, and my mind was clear at last.

And the experience of camping tested my newfound faith. Everything at the camp was drenched, my loosely defined two-man tent on lumpy ground provided me with little sleep and much discomfort, and the negative effects of the whiskey wasn't enough to erase the good vibes I inside. I got up at dawn, sat outside in a wet lounge chair and watched the sun come up. Not once during this trip did I unpack my camera. All that I experienced was right there in my memory where it belonged and I needed no pictures to remind me of them.

The drive back Mary and I talked about anything and everything, listened to some great music, and enjoyed the rest of our trip. I commented at one point that my clothes reeked of dirt, rain, sweat and campfire smoke and I didn't give a rat's ass about it. I was greeted at home by a lonely and tuna deprived Chuckles and I promptly took a much deserved shower.

Now, I'm heading to a warm bed for a restful night's sleep and feeling ready to again take on the life I left behind for a day.