Game of Drones

There is something to be said for arrested development and perpetual adolescence. Of course, everyone wants to evolve, grow and mature into a state of admirable wisdom. All men, or most I would hope, would want to grow into a more sensitive state of understanding and acceptance as they get older. Few men I would think want to stay in the same backward thinking, immature, hurtful stage of adolescence that for men seems to last thirty years, but sometimes, more often than not, we just crave it. Want it. Need it.


Sometimes it feels right to hang with the homies and do stupid S&*t.


At one point tonight me and seven other dudes were at an undisclosed location armed with a few beers, late arrival pizzas and drones. We had planned an evening of Drone Wars and/or Game of Drones, as a chance to take a break from the week and just play with the toys. And just like most boys when given the freedom to hang out and play we had a blast.


At one point two of the drones got stuck high up near the roof and we sent a few rescue drones to get them down. The Top Gun theme was playing and when the marooned drones were rescued, I honestly think I yelped, or as Walt Whitman would I say, I yawlped with joy. (Luke Haugen is the drone whisper.)


We spent the rest of the night buzzing the drones around a small room , talking about nothing important, although there was a brief exploration of Trump and the current state of America, but really it was a time to not think about the end of the year, not worry about reports, not be too tired and just relax and be dudes. It was a night I needed.


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There is probably more that I could I say about today, but the alternative is to close this laptop, turn off the lights and get some sleep before tomorrow. The weekend is on the horizon and the year is winding down. Head down…..let’s do this. California is on he horizon and I am ready to be home.