Standing in my Garage
Here I am, standing in my garage.
I am overwhelmed by the clutter here.
What is it?
What does it mean?
Really I am surrounded by dreams.
I think, give my head a shake.
When it was built I felt just great.
It too was a dream of mine.
Now it is a storage shack.
That is why the cars are all out back.
Like all things manmade it has flaws.
Even man’s dreams have shortfalls.
Both can be fixed if a mistake is only a mistake when uncorrected.
Wow.
Look over there.
I see Fisher-Price toys, G.I. Joe, Hot Wheels and
Two sets of original Star Wars.
My God, there are thousands of old baseball cards.
I have a corner that is just all about me.
I invested in die cast cars
Which were promoted by Nascar.
Like all things made by man, they are flawed.
Greed and quick profits have pushed my dream to hell.
And the value is not what I thought for those wonderful models.
In the house I have Longenberger baskets.
They were something else I just had to get.
I laughed when the family asked what it was that I did.
I answered, “All this stuff is my legacy to my kids.
You boys are going to have to work for it.
Your money is out there in a far off yard sale.”
In another corner of my sagging garage
(By the way, that was all just repaired)
Are pieces that are legitimate antiques.
We even have a collection of old sewing machines.
All this stuff is worth a bank full of beans.
I have tools I bought five years ago.
They are still in their boxes…yes, I know.
I bought them so I would have them.
Some day they will be used, but the warranties are all bad.
They are, every one, something I just had to have.
The tools I use all the time someone must have borrowed,
Or maybe even stole,
But they are gone, that is one thing I know.
There is material for a dream about a small business.
There are dog-eared books I love, written by Louis L’Amour.
Somewhere I have a whole set of Zane Gray that Dad bought.
The titles are faded like my dreams from too much handling.
I protected my set written by Earnest Hemmingway.
My sons will have all of this stuff some day.
The dreams are real here.
They live on, even wrapped in cobwebs and dust covered.
Nothing is discarded, not even my failures.
And today my son is coming home, one of my two fine young men.
They are dreams with flaws, but my God, I am proud of them.
I wonder if my little world here is just a small shot
Of the whole wide world, and all the waste we bought?
Trash dumps are full, but garage stuff ain’t even there yet.
Standing alone and quiet, dreaming is still the very best.
Sometimes I fear the only things disposable now
Are relationships and children.
We have a drive through mentality
And everything is supposed to reap immediate returns
And gratification.
I still live in an incredible nation.
We still have garages…and dreams.
Mike Mullins, 11/25/08
Share
Print
Save
Follow
Be always safe,
Karen
excellent Michael...
John