The Midnight Society

Oh how I longed to be just a part,
of that band of pre-teens who weren't so afraid of the dark.

To tell tales of the night, death and things near as grim;
to spin and weave a yarn in great length, and still be home before ten.

I would have sat in that great stone chair, tossing that magical dust to the flame;
Spurting forth verbal terror and reaching great heights of horror fame.

All this I would have done with immense joy,
To scare thousands of children, both girls and boys.

But, to do so would have drove my mother into a fit,
not to mention the fact, that as a kid, I was a chicken.

To an old friend...

Fair warning... the following blog could and should be construed as ridiculous and somewhat pathetic...

Today... tonight... I said goodbye to a dear friend...

Since before I could drive, I needed a place to go to think. A spot where friends and I could go and philosiphize and get better aquainted, not only with eachother, but with ourselves. An area of great insipiration and beauty.

That place is The Thinking Spot. Now, I'm not the only person who knows of, or even uses The Thinking Spot, many, many, many of my friends know it as well as I do. I've even had people I had just recently met refer to the same place as their The Thinking Spot without any prior knowledge that I ever used it. The Thinking Spot is a place with a sort of magical allure... or should I say "was"?

For years... litterally years, I would visit the spot when I needed to clear my head, or if I needed inspiration for a story, or if I needed a good cry.

The spot carries some of my best... and worst memories of all time. It played a major role in the shaping of who I am today. It's where I would go when planning the future of me.

It's the one place I could go to keep my sanity in tact. The one place that truly felt like a sanctuary. The one place that kept me from giving in and giving up all these years.

Tonight wasn't any different.

I am part of an acting repertory at UVSC and as a part of the big theatre review the company is putting on, I've been assigned a song. It's a beautifully simple song about how the heart wants what the heart wants, about how you should just let yourself love, because it's sort of inevitable. Well, due to recent events in my life (which ended up leading me to the spot for one of those good cry's) I have a hard time believing that philosophy anymore. So, again I found myself at The Thinking Spot; this time to practice a song, and to find a character inside myself that can make the audience believe I believe that true love is just a matter of "This is how it is, and if you accept that fact, you'll end up happy in the end... promise!"

It wasn't working.

So, as a back-up plan, I decided to practice the song, over and over so, even if the characterization of it wasn't up to par, at least it wouldn't sound like a herd of stampeding sick monkey cats. Well, I was hitting that nasty high note (you know the one... when the guy is singing and ALMOST hitting it and you're thinking to yourself I'm glad we're not watching American Idol, cause we'd have to watch this clip all over the internet for weeks, and I just don't have the bandwidth for that... yeah, THAT high note) when I blinding light is shone forcefully into my rearview mirror blinding me for just the splittest of seconds.

Now, I know some of you are thinking, what's the big deal? it's just a cop... well, to be honest, so was I! See, after many a year of going to the thinking spot, I've been questioned by my fair share of law enforcement agents at all hours of the night. So, this was nothing new or scary for me at all. Plus, I was alone (so he couldn't hit me with having a girl in my car... that whole thing, you know... whatever)

A moment passes as I turn down the music and wait. A shadow breaks the steady stream of light from the million candlelight spotlight trained into my retinas; the officer was on his way over. I rolled down my window
to see what the problem was and the extremely surreal and somewhat anti-climactic encounter goes as follows:

" Did you know that this is an Orem City parking lot and it closes at eleven?"
"Really? I've been coming here for years... is that new?"
"Well, no, but I could technically cite you for trespassing right now."
"Are you serious?"
"Are you just up here enjoying the view?"
"Yeah... and practicing a song..." (don't ask why I added that)
"Tell you what, you can hang around awhile longer" *checking his watch* (it's 12:38) "But, around 1:00 there are going to be guys up here who will cite you... so, you might want to make this your last time..."
"Oh wow... well, thank you..."
"No problem, goodnight..." And with that... he left...

It's now 12:42... I'm standing outside my vehicle. My body involuntarily shivers with each drop of cold rain that finds it's way through my thin, "Scalding Lake" t-shirt.
I turn my head left and then right... I try to take in as much of the spot time will allow. I strain myself trying to remember everything about the spot I can before that fateful hour comes.
I struggle to speak the word I never thought I'd have to say to a flippin' piece of land... Honestly it's just a spot! It's not like they shut it down completely! You can always go back before eleven! Who cares if you have need for the spot after the hour of 11 sometimes?? Who cares if you can't afford to risk a citation? JOEL IT'S JUST A SPOT!!!
You're absolutely right... it's just a spot.
My spot.
My Thinking Spot.

"Goodbye..."

My first memory of the spot is giving it a good cry.

So is my last.