My last few nights have ended in daylight. As the world slowly comes to life again, I start getting sleepy. Today, at the park, since all life comes from water, it starts with the sprinklers. Then the bugs come out, dragonflies and Jurassic-looking bumblebees. Birds cross the sky over my head and I instinctively flinch, knowing that I have evaded bird shit for 24 years and that the streak will one day come to an end. Let’s rewind to about thirty minutes earlier. I walk backwards into my car. The rising sun sets again, goes backstage and waits for our cue to come out. I get a little bit less tired. I’m at the top of a parking garage at a local’s hotel in Las Vegas, and the sky is barely bruising itself awake. I’m about to light a cigar to celebrate the day’s end (by my definition, anyway) when a security guard pulls up. He doesn’t actually say anything, but by getting out of the car he asks me what I’m doing so close to the ledge. ” I’m watching the sun rise. “You can’t do that here.” I can’t watch the sun rise? “Nope, we have a policy against loitering. You can’t be here without a purpose.” But I just told you my purpose. I’m watching the sun rise. “Sorry, we can’t discriminate. You’re loitering. I’ve had people throw things. People try to jump off.” Someone should quote Vonnegut to this guy. We are here on Earth to fart around. Humans are just a bunch of loiterers. I’m pretty certain no one’s ever tried to jump off his parking garage. He mostly just farts around. So now I’m driving away from a great viewing spot without a contingency plan, staring at the sunrise through my rear-view mirror. I wander, wondering why there aren’t any signs for this sort of thing. Sunrise viewing area, three miles ahead. The park is not an ideal viewing area. The mountains are too close and there isn’t a clear, unobstructed view of the city. But, it turns out, pretty much any spot is a good spot to watch the sunrise. I sit on a bench, light a cigar, keep a wary eye on the birds. Life continues to evolve. Dogs being walked by jogging owners. Kids hunched over bicycle handlebars, caveman-like. I loiter, sip some coffee, sip some water, change the song. My day ends with a shine.
For the third year in a row, I’m making it my mission to watch the sun rise and set every day during the extended Labor Day weekend. I don’t think we take the time to bask enough. Just simply sit within sight of something pretty and bask. I have a theory that beauty works like a marinade and sinks into your pores.
Do you realize that the sun rises and sets every day? Of course you do. But you don’t really. Otherwise, you would wake up at 5:45 a.m or take a break from indoors at 7 p.m and just watch the sky for a while. When was the last time you dedicated yourself to such a silly, beautifully recurring event?
Sleep is often lost in the name of gaining knowledge (or at least rote memorization), of making money, of fun. Is it really that silly to lose sleep in the name of beauty? I don’t think so, and if it is, it’s the right kind of silly. Exactly the kind of example I want to set for my newborn nephew.
Sunrise
I woke up at 6:30 this morning. It marked the first time in three days that the sun beat me to wakefulness. So, I failed at my mission. My goal was to get all four sunrises, all four sunsets. My question is, if my body wanted to ignore the four alarms I set, why not let me sleep a few more hours?
Anyway, this isn’t such a bad thing to fail at. No repercussions, no penalties. No one dies or loses a home or gets slapped on the wrist. My pride isn’t even really damaged. The sun will rise again. For at least the next few days, I think I’ll skip it. But I’ll be back someday.
Sunset
More of the same. Family dinner at 7:15, right at sunset’s climax. I missed out, and I’m okay with that.
Sunrise
Everyone’s got moments in life when they question their sanity/judgment. I had one of those moments early this morning (the indisputably early kind of early), when after 26 straight hours of wakefulness, I found myself still forcing my body to remain awake. I had chugged down a five-hour energy shot, its dose of caffeine not really standing a chance against my level of tiredness. Edgar and I looked on at a sky the color of bruising flesh. We barely understood where we were and what we were doing there. After a couple of days of this, time starts behaving strangely. You feel you’re watching sunrises immediately after each other, while the rest of your day feels like an alien memory- a TV show you watched once but you can’t recall how long ago.
So, yes, I deserve to have my sanity questioned, particularly by myself. This is a strange thing to do. Self-inflicted sleep deprivation is admittedly quite dumb, even in the name of beauty’s appreciation. And this year’s mission has been more challenging than last year’s. I have been met with considerably less enthusiasm from my friends, with only Edgar consistently accompanying me. Even the sky seems uninspired by my dedication and willpower; clouds are the soul of sunsets and sunrises, canvases on which the sun’s rays transform themselves like playful chameleons, and this year the sky has provided only the tickle of a cloud during sunrise #2.
But, of course, it’s worth it in the end. You know I feel that way because I’m still going. Sunset post later today.
Reminder: I wrote a book. Read about it here.
Sunrise, Forgot to check official time
Edgar makes his appearance right before the sun pokes out again. We listen to music, which is always a crucial companion in any sunrise/sunset viewing experience. We follow it with breakfast. Listen: these are the days books are thought of.
Sunset, Ditto
My dad, Chris and I go up to the 16th floor of the M Hotel and Casino. A great, sprawling view of the city, with a hair-swirling breeze and a pint of beer. Pictures soon to come. I’m at 24 hours awake right now, with sunrise number three coming up in a couple of hours.
Sunrise, September 3rd (6:11 a.m)
After a housewarming party and a sleepless night, I drove down the slightly-less-than-abandoned 5 a.m. Vegas streets headed northbound, the sky lighting up to my right. Music sounds louder, more unrestrained at five in the morning, I think.
Loaded with coffee and a battery-less camera, I directed my car up the six floors of UNLV’s parking garage. My friend Edgar showed up a few moments before the sun poked out from behind the aptly named Sunrise Mountain. Sunrises are never anything short of incendiary, although the cloudless Vegas sky kept the spectacle modest, if such a word can be applied.
Sunset, September 3rd (7:05 p.m)
Unaccompanied and basic, but sunsets aren’t the worst time for solitude. It’s funny that it isn’t customary to stop everything you’re doing during these daily occurrences and just watch the sky. I, for one, refuse to pretend that there is nothing special about the sky’s chromatic transformation, just because it happens all the time.
Barring unforeseen complications, the sun will rise again tomorrow, and I’ll be there to say good morning. I recommend you give it a shot too. You’ll be surprised how beautiful the city you’re used to living in is when painted in dawn’s unfamiliar light.
Is not just a pretty great song by Flogging Molly.
It is also the theme of my weekend. For the second year in a row, I’m making it my mission to watch the sun rise and set every day during the extended Labor Day weekend. I don’t think we take the time to bask enough. Just simply sit within sight of something pretty and bask. I have a theory that beauty works like a marinade and sinks into your pores.
Do you realize that the sun rises and sets every day? Of course you do. But you don’t really. Otherwise, you would wake up at 5:45 a.m or take a break from indoors at 7 p.m and just watch the sky for a while. When was the last time you dedicated yourself to such a silly, beautifully recurring event?
It’s been way too long for me, so I’m going to knock my sleeping schedule out of its already off-beat rhythm and not only take the time to greet the sun in the morning and kiss it farewell in the evening, but write about it for your reading pleasure.
Aside from those posts to come, I will also show you the pictures my sister’s boyfriend took of me this afternoon for my official author headshot. I’ll give you a more detailed, narrative version of the publishing process I’ve undergone with Dog Ear. And soon, I’ll be turning in my guest post at Crazy-for-Books.com, so keep an eye out for that.
Still only one winner in my musical mystery playlist post! Email me what you think the playlist’s theme is and win a hand-written letter and personalized mix cd from someone who will eventually be a published author with a headshot to prove it.
