A reverie along memory lane bubbles forth, when this grr wreck oh row man (figuratively perched high atop totem pole - paddles - secured within oarlocks), while he serenely quizzically, lackadaisically, and harmoniously drifted merrily thru LX orbitz around the sun. Obliviousness wafted with zealous laissez faire devil may care attitude. Pointlessness against cavil leer mindset (regarding roaming as sea sunned bonafide Nova Scotian fish she ate while off Newfoundland) blissfully carried yours truly along slipstream of timelessness since his infancy. While awash on his figuratively, manually navigated, and opportunistically prideful quintessential schooner, he reflected, regaled and revisited ebbing tide. His spartan existence hinged upon tellingly, temporally, and tenaciously to pacific Atlantic waters. One infinitesimal human flotsam and jetsam upon expansive temporarily tranquil teal colored watery expanse appealed, appeared, and appeased an ultimate authentic, cathartic, ecocentric succor to his solitary demeanor, where obliviousness of time allowed, enabled, and provided most ecstatic euphoria pronouncedly heightened courtesy embarking December thirty first across international date line heading into the second decade of twenty first century. Though severely stream lined, his painstakingly handcrafted replica galleon successfully tested as seaworthy sloop, and promised tight as a drum meticulous craftsmanship. Transition from landlubber to languid tough voyager occurred when he happened to sneak (back in the day) aboard as stowaway when mere slip of lad (din) in his early boyhood. Faux pirate ship (essentially rickety vessel manned by escaped convicts) baptised him into immediate passion with tempestuous quixotic nuances of briny deep. Awareness immediately never washed true grit regarding how transiently linkedin youngster (charged with daring do) tethered to mortality naturally serenaded romance with life upon seven seas. No adversity could curb obliviousness to untold dangers, especially lumbering upon even creaky, yet sturdy vessel. What sport to cavort (shrugging off ala Atlas such insignificant cavorting as risking life and limb), versus livingsocial upon more solid terra firmae availed courtesy dispersed continents back bajillion eons when Gondwanaland encompassed planet Earth. A dearth of rolicking, swashbuckling,
and later in twilight years of sein leben typing true seat of the pants sagas detailing wrestling with Neptune and/or Poseidon (Roman and Greek names respectively) identifying wide webbed watery world.
Infinitude of unbroken liquid scape (i.e. H2O) stretched three hundred and sixty degrees into panoramic horizon. Oft times he thought about the missus, and yet another fatherless newborn left forever at some remote port of call. He would never return to the offspring helped sire, cuz the beckoning courtesy sexually arousing barenaked ladies comprising indigenous village people elsewhere, triggered surging testosterone in tandem with gull able whims upon surrendering selflessness to seductive briny deep, which wicked wonts far exceeded temptation of any fair maiden onshore. When eager and ready to plow ahead nsync with receding tide, one final teary eyed glimpse availed him just long enough to captcha and never forget the beautiful tableaux constituting baby at bosom of radiant mother indelibly etched upon his consciousness. He experienced the nearest metaphorical approximation to nirvana being gently buffeted, harmlessly battered, playfully rammed, and torpedoed par for the course quiet rioting heaps necessarily imposing adult responsibility. Before infant acquired ways and means to remember even an iota of her papa, he would long since traverse countless nautical miles across oceanic expanse sounding out depth every now and again. If/when his skiff approached offshoot channels (think bays, estuaries, gulfs, et cetera) fleeting nostalgic paternal pang awoke again. Such analogous occasional motoring (rather sailing) forays across avast battled commodious deep expansive medium with no landfall in sight generated internal upswells. This then nada so grand turk (key in the straw) Otto man continually discerned what emulated tooling around within humongous bowl of rice krispies accompanied with exaggerated snap, crack and pop. Edification woke while he traversed cross currents. At various and sundry voluminous junctures, ferocious confluences hindsight offered aging baby boomer luxury briefly to cast anchor astern and scrutinize whether he would continue to remain on straight and true. Moments of idly bobbing along
(sponging up aquatic environment) likened to any run of the mill grown buoy linkedin with retrospective reminiscences leisurely trawling along resplendent shoals and throes of untolled fathered offspring allowed, enabled and provided opportunity to scrutinize perchance, how one human ping-pong fitbit part player papa (many times over) felt irksomeness with himself shrugging atlas size responsibilities off his weather beaten fountainhead, essentially voided (except where prohibited) accepting subjection of parenthood and concomitant equated re: thralldom). Alone on deliberate sabbatical amazingly graceful delinquency unencumbered paternity courtesy calling white capped noise of splashing, sloshing, schluffing requisite duties begat since conceiving progeny wrought permanently severed home ties, (and occasionally shed tear) drowned out courtesy crashing amidst vista.
The above reverential hallucinogenic daydream immediately shattered. Harebrained imaginary getaway brought sudden recollection of present circumstance. Ordinarily the wife (i.e. misses who would appear more formal), would caw out my name nonstop….”Matt”…”Matt”…”Matt”…, but sobering reality check reminded me of our dire straits. Upon this very extraordinary occasion (for us), she opted to organize the cluster of assorted household items at the apartment (located in Crum Lynne – Ridley Township), we hoped to move within a fortnight. Thy spouse volunteered her own mini reprieve by setting order to the miscellaneous fixings gradually amassed, appropriated, and gifted throughout the twenty plus years of marriage, which hodgepodge of personal possessions downsized, whence circumstance dictated evaluating goods having keepsake meaning versus the anomaly of belongings that can be unloaded, repurposed for someone else, or ordained as unworthy to schlep. This husband became acclimated, conditioned, and embossed with a mate a tete for two dozen plus decades, whereby both steering thee doting delightful deux daughters on track heading 742 miles west as the crow flies from Bryn Mawr. Honest to dog, I miss the role of fatherhood when either offspring (with an age difference of approximately twenty five plus months) romped, scampered, and trotted as toddlers, and upon childhood, thy little girls found exultant excitement dashing higgledy-piggledy, hither and yon, to and fro across the playground as thee most glorious human indulgence. Despite the plaintive wail vis a vis Juliet saying goodnight to Romeo (…parting is such sweet sorrow) haint pleasurable atoll necessary for healthy progeny to develop. Hitherto unknown that during the most vexing, trying, and quaking bouts when both kin of thy loin fought like angry cats would there transpire the occasion of sincere tearfulness ululating vain warbling. Now a pang of nostalgia arises when I drive past their happy go lucky stomping turf, or reflect on answering the trumpet call to chauffeur one or thee other to amusement park, play date, mall, favorite toy store such as Five below, birthday party, et cetera. Even certain tunes recalled to mind and/or heard being broadcast across the audio logical spectrum a cause for moistened tear ducts. Aye wince with sadness also admixed with sigh lent expostulations of their first outermost vocalization inspiring spiritedly bundled joy. Both progeny metamorphosed into able bodied, minded and spirited young lasses, whose attainment far exceeded any projections internally forecast. Initial onset of parent (trap) role found me all thumbs. Prior to begetting two darling dames, this chap spent a disproportionate number of hours sequestered within some hideaway, which frequently happened to be the designated bedroom at 324 Level Road Collegeville.
Never did thee majority days of mine life point to babysitting, or working with that chronological demographics comprising the adoring blessed innocence, murmuring newborn obliviousness, that bespoke penultimate unsullied, utmost virtue necessitating interaction with tender infants beckoning being cradled, endearingly fondled, demonstrably easing fondness gripping heartstrings issue jetblue kinks. Aye felt pitched headlong into this foreign territory, and initially experienced utmost awkwardness when attending, pampering and pulling (albeit gently) upsy daisy, the nascent hint of autonomy. Remembrance and recollection of élan, joie de vivre, and yea those ear splitting threshold of pain screaming tantrums all boxed into tidy wholesome zen announcing nuggets of greater meaningfulness and absolute value. The above long winded reverie intended and meant tubby a very abridged semi biography, but leave hit up to his hie n hiss, he went way overboard, and will give a one line summarization to describe his i.e. your truly life sentence fate decreed. He (this Anglophile chipper chap (matthew scott harris) lived under duress of extreme anxiety, obsessive/compulsive behavior, panic attacks and essentially schizoid personality disorder for the greater part of his life and hard times, which raw bits would warrant fleshing out to extrapolate how these psychic pitfalls represented critical factors at various and sundry turning points in his life.