American Drifters: "Hallelujah, I'm a Bum"
Michael Sean Comerford
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Posted 05.15.2013
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Travel
Did I look like an American drifter? Am I one of them? Should I be flattered or just find a laundromat?
Did I look like an American drifter? Am I one of them? Should I be flattered or just find a laundromat?
By the time we made it to a rest stop and a McDonald's in Van Buren, Arkansas I was sick of the Grateful Dead.
Many of us dream of packing our belongings, buying a plane ticket to that place we've always dreamed of going, and starting a new life. Have you ever ...
The night of my 30th birthday, I fell asleep in my mother's childhood bedroom. The next morning, my grandparents served me Entenmann's crumb cake. It was the first birthday I celebrated without a date in 10 years. I felt whole and at peace.
La Toya Jackson has been divorced from her allegedly abusive ex-husband, Jack Gordon, for more than 14 years. In that time, she has been busy starting...
Sometimes Plan B is really Plan A. Know when to quit and start over. By Nathan Hale Williams We all know the line, “The best laid [plans]...
I no longer believe that my happiness is defined by where I live or how much I own. I've learned that letting go of concern over outcomes leaves room for greater joy to enter my life.
I've found that people who "start over" are often just returning to an old professional passion. Something that, for whatever reason, had to be put on hold.
Every change of season evokes emotions, but spring, charging out of winter's cold dark with renewed life and brighter days, seems our most beloved. New hopes bloom like flowers springing back from roots we feared lost to numbing ice.
Eight years ago, John Kerr had no idea what to do next when he retired from his job as a public television executive in Boston at age 65. For four dec...
There is life after divorce, I promise you. And there is, believe it or not, joy.
Being human is scary. When you remove the walls between you and the outside world, when you let everyone see who you truly are, you have no idea about what the outcome will be.
I was a grant writer at the University of Cincinnati Department of Family Medicine from the time I was 28 until the time I was 57. After 29 years. I would have liked to retire but couldn't quite afford it.
That's what I love about this moment. I see the names all linked for all time. There's my name right next to the name of the woman who became my wife in the middle of all this craziness. There's Kenny Loggins' name. Proof that he did indeed call one night with a "crazy idea."
After two marriages and 15 years of motherhood, I had to confess I was tired of subjugating my desires to the needs of a husband or a child. If I had to put up with the sorrows of widowhood at 47, shouldn't I at least get to savor its small freedoms too?
In this band, I can use every aspect of what I do and love as an artist. I don't have to make myself smaller to fit in; I just have to have the courage to put it all out there.
When I look back, I can see that I've been searching for home since I started out in '71. It seems my life has been an endless quest for home, searching for that place where I know I belong.
I, too, fell madly in love with someone (probably before I even met him) and, after four years and countless disappointments, faced the reality that he didn't want to marry me. At 28, I refused to let his decision derail my path.
Though our topic remains essentially the same, let's assume that, rather than the prediction of an apocalypse actually happening, destroying our physical universe, the end of the world meant the demise of long-held, cherished and finally -- at last -- obsolete belief systems.
This forgetting the past thing and starting anew works very well for me as I don't like myself or anything I've done. I wish we had a New Year every month!
Please do not look at others in the widowed community and compare your progress (or what you may perceive to be a lack thereof). Your healing journey is not a competition, and it is certainly not a race to some imaginary finish line.
My life was abruptly interrupted one early morning at 2:00am in 2006 when my handsome, smart and loving husband passed on and left me here on this earth with no job and two baby daughters to raise. I was distraught, breathless and in love with a dead man.
I've allowed myself this feeling only a few times in my life. It's a moment when suddenly, unexpectedly there is nothing to plan or do, and nothing to fear. All of life is distilled into here and now. I am no longer concerned about tomorrow. Everything I need is all around me.
As I've gotten older, I've become more confident in my decision-making process. By the way, that's not arrogance.
I realized it was time to try something new to get that passion back into my work. Filmmaking was the answer.
