Home

It must be home.

I'm always surprised when I get back to the States.

My family actually likes me. And I them.

I can sit with my wife - hanging out on dueling laptop computers or watching TV late into the night - laughing and giggling like we were back in High School - just enjoying each others goofy presense. Ask me if she can set up dinners with friends of hers who don't believe that she actually has a husband. Smile as she explains to me that all the shoes arriving at the house are coming with free shipping and a great return policy. And that most of them are actually going back...

Sure they are...

I can go out to eat with my extended family and smile - not fight. Listen to my Dad talk about his new Church - where they actually like him and want him - even though he drives an hour each way.

Sit with my son and go over his homework. Have him read a book to me about Decepticons with minimal help. Sit on the couch together and watch the Magnificent 7 - and have him tell me it's a lot like the Pixar movie Bug's Life. Rub the top of his buzzed head and tell him he looks a lot like Wentworth Miller on Prison Break.

Get on a bike and ride for an hour with my daughter. On the big roads - cause they don't believe in sidewalks or bike paths here in Indiana. Work with her on her report on Amelia Earhart - and tell her reports are like telling a story - even though she continuously corrects me and tells me this is not supposed to be in story form. Watch her read Harry Potter and smile. Asks me to turn off the fan in her room when I go up to go to bed.

To see my little sister's smile as she shows off her new ring from her fiance. She how happy she looks as she talks about her upcoming wedding.

Have my dog follow me everywhere. To the bedroom. Downstairs in the middle of the night. To the bathroom while I take a shower. And even if I go out for a few minutes - just to get the mail - she shakes her whole body with happiness when I walk back in the door.

And for me. Just to be in my house. See my friends. Sit at the table where I wrote two scripts. Listen to music while I work through the night. Play the new leaked Kayne West CD over and over - enjoying the beats. Fill scraps of paper with ideas for scripts to start and abandon.

Think about what's next.

This is where the heart is.
But there is where the work is.

I'm enjoying it while I can...