I want to live in a fort. One made of card tables and old blankets that smell like the closet. I want to live in play and pretend land away from others as they pollute my purity. My inner child likes playing and imagining. I want to live in a fort with others like me. I want to be a firefighter or an astronaut or Aquaman why not. Someone gets to be them. Why not me? Who says I can’t leap tall buildings in a single bound or cast a web to save people from falling? Physics, logic, impossibility? Poppycock. I don’t believe in “can’t.” I don’t believe in impossibility. Only in my imagination. I want to live in a fort. I want to retreat to the safety of imagination when seriousness wins over creativity. When reason wins over spontaneity. I want to live in a fort with my action figures and matchbox cars. No one can see me or know I’m there. I can go in my mind and play with all of my friends. Han, Luke, Chewy. The Six million dollar man. My true friends! Time out. Time in. I saved the world again! Hooray for the good guys. I want to live in a fort.

I’m an observer. I see the world and I want everyone to see what I see. Everyone has a story. Everyone a plan. Some stories intersect; some barely touch but all happening at the same time on the same spot of land. Forward momentum pushes us forward. Intersecting paths give us pause to think. Sometimes there’s a conflict and struggle and sometimes a break through but always momentum pushes us forward. Sometimes we miss it. Sometimes we are forever changed by it but momentum pushes us forward. What are we going forward for? Why do we get in a hurry to get to the only place we were going to get to anyway? Some seem to know. Some seem to not care. Some are better at each situation. Some lie and wait for their sign. I am an observer. Always awake, always watching, always present. I am an observer. A timekeeper, a storyteller. a score keeper. I watch over the store. A referee. I am an observer. Seldom am I involved. To busy rushing to reach my own end. To busy paying attention. So busy I can’t be bothered with something like involvement. For who will do my job? As it is mine to do. But who will live my life if not me? It’s perplexing. I am perplexed. Couples, groups, families all around and I see them all as I go unnoticed. Unseen. Watching, recording, learning, growing. But who will tell my story. I am an Observer!

So first I’d like to say if you have found yourself here I thank you. I am new to blogging but not new on opinions and story telling. I’m not sure if who I am is so important but to get an understanding of my point of view here goes…

I grew up on a 7th generation farm outside of Atlanta. The ATLiens would definitely call that OTP! OTP and ITP refer to people that live inside or outside of I285 that is know as the perimeter as it runs a large circle around Atlanta. This saying is a way to distinguish between simple country folk and the more distinguished metropolitan city dwellers. I’m sure several big cities if not all have this sort of labeling. In LA where I currently live it would simply be called the 909 which is the area code for far away from LA but still in Los Angeles county. Anyway, you get the idea.

After life on the farm and graduating from The University of Georgia, I moved to Nashville with my band for a few years until we moved back to Atlanta, inside the perimeter(ITP) this time. As that ran it’s course I made it as far as Vegas where I lived for a few years until finally finding my way to the beach here in what is know as the South Bay of Los Angeles.

The South Bay quite honestly would be OTP back home but because famous people and wealthy people live here we just refer to it as the bubble. However, from my point of view I still reside and identify with the locals who, hense the name of my site, live way outside the perimeter.

Why does any of this matter to my opinion? Well the truth of that is why does anything matter to anything but since I’m writing this and since someone out there in cyberspace has read this far here goes…

Living on a family farm with history all the way back to Scotland is definitely a different way of life than the music scene that is Nashville, the Metropolitan South that is Atlanta, the strange dynamic that is Las Vegas and the very self important LA. Somehow I have been able to, to some degree, relate to everywhere I’ve lived. I have been able to get to know locals everywhere and see what they consider the important issues to their families and surroundings. I have become the voice of the outside world or at least the voice of a different point of view to several of my friends in every city. I do this not to be argumentative but I feel as if since I have been fortunate enough to have lived around the US and also fortunate enough to have made some good friends that it is my obligation to give back to all of my friends and help different areas understand what makes other areas tick.

We all sometimes get busy in our world and forget that there is so much more going on out there and if we have never lived it we never really understand it. I am always searching for a way for all to at least understand where the other is coming from. I am definitely not one for political correctness or what I call focusing on the lowest common denominator, however, I would like people to at the very least have some real idea what life looks like on the other side of their world.

Thanks for reading and please say hi or leave some sort of comment. I also have been writing what I simply call “little shorts” as I don’t really know what they are but my pen seems to enjoy writing them. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I do and I’m sure on some level they will also tell you more about who I am which will circle back around to my discussions. Thanks again for stopping by!