Diary of a POW, entry 1


Listen, I don’t got a lot of time here … they could come back at any moment.  And then it’s back to the same old dog and pony show.

When as usual they’ll be all:  Let’s dress him up.

Let’s strip him down.

Let’s catch him unawares.

Make him a reflection of our hopes and aspirations.

Poke and prod him, all for our own selfish amusement.

Twist and contort him at every fiendish whim.

Let’s laugh at…

… certainly not with him.

I’m telling you, there are days when I feel like a bird in a gilded cage.

And like any cage, no matter how beautiful the bars, at the end of the day it’s still a cage.

I wonder sometimes, how much longer must I go through the motions?

Hide my true feelings?

Play the sucker?

The prop to this “perfect family” farce?

Sixty-eight days of captivity now, and almost a month since I was able to get any word whatsoever to the outside world.  (I’m so exhausted I can’t think.  I’m too busy to blog.  I don’t feel like it. Cry me a river, Lapp.)  On the plus side, I’ve made some strides in learning how to “do the time.”  But frankly, it gets a little old.

So for now I’m keeping my eyes peeled…

… for potential allies,

“rolling mates,” as it were,

a strong shoulder to lean (or slobber) on.

And waiting for that perfect moment when everyone’s guard is down, to steal away in the night.

Or perhaps to rise up in the full light of day, face tyranny head on, and strike a blow for freedom.

Until then I can only bide my time and dream, dream of better days.

When I can gather up all my troubles.

Roll them into a little ball.

And flick them off my finger like a, well, you know.

How suh-weet would that be?

Sort of a Chris Tucker “my kung-fu is stronger than your kung-fu” moment.  Hi YA!

A moment when the flawed hero, seemingly beaten, picks himself off the floor and stands up.

Marshals hidden resources.

Takes a deep breath.

And if he’s smart … puts out the call to his posse.

Yo baby, ’sup?

Getting your diaper changed?  Naw dawg, don’t gimme that.

Wotta bust.  Who next?  My man Ollie?  Lemme see now, what time is he done with his nap?

Struck out again.  What a bunch of babies.  Oh noooo, now I feel a poopy diaper coming on.  Talk about your bad timing…

Yeah well, looks like the plan may still require some fine-tuning.  But the dream lives on!

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5 Responses to “Diary of a POW, entry 1”

  1. Matt, Chan, Addyson, and Aeron Says:

    What a sweetheart. He is just growing and looking marvelous! We can’t wait to meet the cutie. Hope the sleep deprevation is at least starting to fade… :)
    Thanks for the awesome pics.

  2. Cheryl and Verton Says:

    Yay, you’re back! Too long gone there Lapp! The pictures are amazing and of course, silly…what a lucky little guy he is to have parents like you and AnaLisa. He will grow up way too soon….Enjoy!

  3. Sara Cohen Says:

    Hooray! It’s so good to see him again! He’s looking great and getting so big. I love your interpretation of his facial expressions!~

  4. Grace & Harvey Says:

    Hi- Tony & Ana Lisa. It looks like you’re doing everything right!! We’re waiting for his “Da,Da’ and “Mom, Mom”. Best to all- The Freeds

  5. Greta and Naomi Says:

    I really like your photos. I like your boo boo. (Naomi)

    I like the movie a lot too. (Greta)

    We laughed a lot as Mommy read this to us.

    We can’t wait to see you again.

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