FYI: This is post is decidedly unrelated to photography.

I’ve been feeling introspective lately. It’s funny how the passing of a loved one can do that to you. As my wife & I sorted through my father’s personal affects this past weekend in preparation of this weekend’s estate sale, it struck me just how much of my father’s life boiled down to stuff. He had a lot of stuff.

Yet, I hardly knew what his hopes & dreams were (he had to have had them, right?) and it’s now seemingly impossible to infer what they could’ve been from just his possessions.

One dream of his I know, as he constantly asked repeatedly, is also one that hits me the hardest, is that my Dad wanted grandchildren. He possessed a large collection of Disney DVDs in eager anticipation of the day some rug-rat would enamoredly watch cute cartoons with him, much as my grandmother did with us.

The funny thing is that was a hope & dream of mine as well. Christine & I, a couple years back, each made a list of 101 life goals, as an exercise in… well… I’m not sure. But it still felt like a worthy endeavor. Number 43 on my list was “for my father to watch cartoons with his grandchildren.”

Heart-wrenchingly, I just removed that one from the list.

But that got me pondering the rest of my list. How many things out of the original 101 had I actually checked off in the intervening years? Five. I bought a new car; I finished my degree; I cooked a lobster; I won a prize playing skee ball; and I did something with expiredfilm.com.

While, yes, many on my list were meant as perpetual behaviors, as compared to quantifiable achievements, it still seems as though I should be doing more. Life is short. So as a semi-public means of accountability, here’s my newly revised list.

101 Life Goals in no particular order (other than #1)

1. try to make Christine smile everyday

2. leave Upstate NY for parts unknown

3. preferably to live in Hawaii

4. find something to do that I enjoy that will afford us a reasonable income

5. lose the spare tire

6. not lose all my hair

7. let Christine know that I love her, as much as possible

8.

9. think of something especially clever for #8

10. find something unique to share with the world

11. raise a loving family with Christine

12. to get a dog

13. preferably a Bloodhound

14. for my student loans to be nothing more than a bad memory

15. to go on adventures with Christine as often as feasibly possible

16. to still go on adventures with Christine even when it’s not feasible

17. never eat broccoli, asparagus, cauliflower, or Brussels sprouts ever again

18. to always be able to make Christine laugh

19. to be a better correspondent

20. to be a better friend

21. to be a better husband

22. to eat a grilled cheese sandwich everyday for a month

23. to make a scathing documentary of the grilled cheese industry

24. to snuggle with Christine as much as possible

25. to become a better photographer

26. to always greet Christine with a hug and a kiss

27. to find something worthwhile to say and to say it well

28. to buy Christine roses when she least expects it

29. to make sure I actually buy roses for her when she does expect it

30. to always win when playing “not it”

31. to have a hot dog whenever at Yankee Stadium

32. to have Christine take a bite of said Yankee Stadium hot dog

33. to own a house that Christine and I can make into a home

34. to have a vacation every year where Christine wears a bikini

35. to find new things that interest me

36. not to be this old this young

37. to celebrate holidays without feeling guilt

38. to never eat cottage cheese just because “it’s healthy”

39. to have the confidence to know whether I’m good at something or not

40. to watch a sunset and sunrise in the same night with Christine

41. to own art I appreciate

42. to see Mariano Rivera go into the Hall of Fame

44. always be able to find time to read a good book

45. remember to use deodorant most days

46. to be less slovenly around the house

47. to pick up my boxers whenever we are expecting guests

48. to dance with Christine whenever the opportunity presents itself

49. to not look utterly ridiculous doing so; unless on purpose

50. to be the most ‘whoamantic’ person I know

51. to never catch Ebola

52. or smallpox or The Plague or other bad bug

53. to let Christine squish a slug with her hands

54. but to be the voice of moral restraint when she endeavors to kick a pigeon

55. to improve my handwriting

56. to always be Christine’s best friend

57. never eat yellow snow

58. to accomplish something I can feel proud of

59. learn a cool yo-yo trick

60. to not break anything in the process

61. to spend Thanksgiving with our family at our house

62. to dress more “snazzily”

63. to carve a pumpkin for Halloween each year

64. to not schedule my life around television

65. to learn how to smile in front of a camera

66. especially when Christine is holding the camera

67. to win a whole boat-load of money in the lottery

68. to learn a cool new origami thing

69. to create a meal using veggies from our garden

70. to have a garden

71. to have a backyard barbecue with our friends

72. to have a backyard to barbecue in

73. to have a grill to barbecue on

74. to know how to make good mixed drinks

75. to eventually figure out Christine’s system of hiding my stuff

76. to eventually not need Christine to hide things on me in the first place

77. to never wear pink socks to a wedding

78. or pretty much never wear pink socks

79. to grow a thriving Chia pet

80. to always find things to shake a stick at

81. to never dress a pet in a holiday festive sweater

82. unless it’s really funny

83. I mean really funny, not just a self-deluded funny

84. to never fall victim of a pirate attack

85. to drink more water

86. to eat less pizza

87. but still eat pizza

88. to actually traverse the Oregon Trail

89. without dying of dysentery

90. take a train across the country

91. to spit into an active volcano

92. to learn how to surf

93. to complete my run of DC Sandman comics

94. to own a vintage Optimus Prime

95. to visit all 50 states

96. to drink a pint of Guinness in Ireland

97. learn to play the ukelele

98. to never be compelled to smell/taste sour milk against my wishes

99. to snorkel in Bora Bora

100. to finish reading Moby Dick, War & Peace, Paradise Lost, and Ulysses

101. to find the means to overcome the resting inertia in my life

102. to be happy

So there it is. I’m impressed if you actually read through the entire thing. Just to be clear, it’s not a “bucket list.” It’s just a list. It may change, it may grow, it may shrink, but hopefully along the way I’ll be able to check some things off.

Or an example of the relative height of maize as compared to the lower extremities of able bodied human beings on the fourth day of the seventh month of the Gregorian calendar.

The wife & I, trying to remember any semblance of normalcy, drove all around the area farms yesterday looking for knee high corn, given the titular colloquialism. To our surprise, we discovered most of the corn was already way past chest height.

After almost giving up on the concept, we found this comparatively stunted crop in a nearby community garden.

The image itself is kind of an inside joke. I have a habit of butchering colloquialisms. Such as “six of one; half dozen of another” in regards to equal quantities, becomes “half of one; six dozen of another,” but still used in the original capacity in a manner of attempted ironic humor.

“Knee high by the Fourth of July” entered our lexicon as “ankle deep on a rainy Thursday in the third week of April” or “hip length on the 17th of June” or “up to your armpits in August” and other such variations of nonsensical meaning.

My wife & I often bat these pseudo-sayings around without regard for our audience, sometimes leading to semi-awkward explanations, akin to the one you’ve just read.

My father, Svend S. Hansen, passed away on June 23, 2010. He was 66 years old.

Below is the text of the eulogy I delivered at his funeral.

“Last night, I was trying to think of something to say today regarding my father. I found it much harder in practice than it was in concept. I felt as though there was a deep wellspring of things I wanted to say, yet the words somehow failed to freely flow from my mind.

What does one say at the death of their father? How does one convey all the thoughts & emotions that lay muddled beneath the fog of the present? Regrets, while many, seem trite; Grievances, inappropriate; Anger, misplaced; Sorrow, apparent. Yet Love, love seems about right.

I loved him and I knew that I was loved. Dad loved his family, even if he wasn’t always the best at expressing it. He loved his daughters & his sons. He loved his varied hobbies and he loved his friends. He loved sausage and he loved his constant companion, Blue.

But most of all, he loved my mother.

Taken from us far too soon, near 15 years ago now, my father was never quite the same without her. It may be understatement to say that since my mother’s passing, my father was a broken man. But who could blame him? He lost the Love of his life.

But somehow, he persevered and continued to persevere. I would never say it was easy, but he was a survivor. No matter what tribulations life threw at him, he always managed to bounce back; on that it seemed to be it could be depended. Despite whatever problems he faced, I was never worried, because I had learned through sheer repetition that his indomitable spirit would always prevail.

I sometimes wondered about the source of his strength. Where did it come from? How did he consistently overcome such seemingly insurmountable odds? How did he find the fight to keep him going each day?

In the hours immediately following his death, I began to question why was this time different? What had happened this time that he finally didn’t bounce back? What had changed? Why had the challenges finally gotten the better of him, after surviving for so long prior?

Then, while sorting through my father’s papers this week, I discovered a poem he wrote, entitled “A Dream:”

I had a dream,
of a place of bright flowers,
and green fields,
of pure clean waters, and running streams,
with tall mountains and low valleys,
I heard a song so pure,
sung by angels,
singing high on peaks,
and showering down like a heavenly dream,
and this is where I dream of you
you, my love,
I know you’re waiting,
for the time we’ll meet again,
yes, I had a dream that will come true.

In this poem, I found both the answer to my former & current questions. His strength, as best as I can suppose, came from Love, a deep faith in God and the belief that one day he would be reunited with my Mom in heaven. He had survived for nearly a decade & a half, because he was living for that day he would see her again, and now in death, his dream has finally been fulfilled. He didn’t somehow fail this time; no, in the end, his indomitable spirit finally won.

I miss you Dad, but I find solace knowing you’re finally happy again.”

He was interred at Bath National Cemetery with full military honors.

Hello Internet,

It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? I know, I know, I’m a bad friend leaving you hanging like that. Not a word or a peep or even just a heads up.

Suddenly, it’s June. I know May existed by the subtle carnage it left behind, but as to where it went, only future archaeologists may know….

So yeah. How are things?

Good, good (unless, of course, they aren’t; then you have my sympathies or other appropriate response).

Things have been hectic here. But you know how it is and how it goes and what-not.

Ok.

Well it’s been nice chatting with you.

Hey! Let’s try to keep in touch.

Just a friendly neighborhood reminder that this Sunday! Sunday!! Sunday!!! is World Pinhole Photography Day.

In previous years, I’ve been well-intentioned, but still never quite actually participated.

This year however, I’ve built a custom pinhole camera from an Altoids tin (would that make it a ‘mint-hole’ camera, a ‘pintoid,’ ‘curiously lensless’???) from scratch. There are still some kinks (light leak, frame spacing/film winding) but, knock on wood, I should hopefully have them ironed out by Sunday (Sunday!! Sunday!!!).

For more info:
http://www.pinholeday.org/participate/