journal features

no foolin'

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

Tokyo, 2008.12.06

Today I had fun teasing my son with the reflection coming off of the glass face of my watch. Strong sunlight was pouring in, allowing me to put a bright spot on the ceiling and the unlit portions of the wall (an old game for a 37-year-old but simple minds are easily entertained). Young Kenny fell for the trick for a while, following the bright circle raptly.

But as I started bringing the reflected light closer to us, his expression changed. I thought back to my early childhood and the demented joy I'd get from taunting my apprehensive little brother with simple/non-existent fears (e.g. telling him, "the draft is going to get you, Kenny!" after we'd overheard a parent mention that there was a cold draft in the house).

But this Kenny was different. He put a hand on my arm, perhaps having noticed that the bright spot was moving with the motions of my arm. Then he confirmed my guess by turning to watch me angle the watch. The ten-month-old let out a short laugh when he'd figured it out.

After that we laughed together as I shined it on his face or mine, delighting in the simple fun. But it just wasn't the same as a good teasing.

rand()m quote

If I had my life to live over, I'd try to make more mistakes next time. I would relax, I would limber up, I would be crazier than I've been on this trip. I know very few things I'd take seriously any more. I'd certainly be less hygenic... I would take more chances, I would take more trips, I would scale more mountains, I would swim more rivers, and I would watch more sunsets. I would eat more ice cream and fewer beans. I would have more actual troubles and fewer imaginary ones. Oh, I've had my moments, and if I had to do it all over again, I'd have many more of them, in fact I'd try not to have anything else, just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of my day. If I had it to do all over again, I'd travel lighter, much lighter than I have. I would start barefoot earlier in the spring, and I'd stay that way later in the fall. And I would ride more merry-go-rounds, and catch more gold rings, and greet more people and pick more flowers and dance more often. If I had it to do all over again - but you see, I don't.

—Jorge Luis Borges