Wallace’s latest creation!

I can already see my new friends – through whom, let’s be honest, I’m kind of living vicariously – driving along Interstate 5 to investigate these California destinations, excited about possible discoveries to be made. If I squint real hard, I can see myself there with them – with you. If I squint even harder, my eyes are practically shut and I can’t see a thing. Yeah, I sometimes do that when I’m scared. And the mere idea of leaving my tiny state gives me the willies.

But now I’m opening my eyes and peeking between my fingers. And isn’t that what life’s about? Little peeks at the great big world? For as long as I can remember, Mom taught me to focus on school, work, and home, school, work, and home. Don’t get me wrong, those are all important, but I feel like there’s an ingredient missing. I mean, she’s provided me with a perfectly healthy, nourishing chili, but sometimes you need a little extra spice.

Hmm, wonder why I have chili on the brain?

Grandma, mom, and grandpa – back in the day.

Since he’s passed, I’ve gone through stacks and more stacks and yet even more stacks of stuff from his younger days as a writer. Digging through this, a lot of his life is still a mystery to me. As I look at him as a wide-eyed young man — with his whole future ahead of him (and wearing uber-skinny ties) — I can’t help but wonder what he was like when he was chasing his dreams. Writing about tomorrow, imagining humanity coming together to build a new world.

He was never a huge success. In the time of Clarke, Asimov, and Bradbury, he was an unknown. Just an optimist with a typewriter. He sold one short story in the fifties, “Orbit’s Story” to Disney, and then gave up the chance for fame to follow his own path. It’s the kind of bravery I wish I had.

Grandpa was always so creative!

We would walk through the woods and he would share with me impossible tales of cities of tomorrow. Of machines discovering the core of what humanity means. Of bringing the world together as they explored the furthest reaches of the universe. Of exploring time and space by crossing dimensions. At their heart, they were about looking at bright futures that could be. He saw the best in everyone. In everything. Always.

These are the stories he told at bedtime when I slipped into sleep. These are the stories he would tell me on Saturday mornings while I ate my cereal. And stories he told me watching a sunrise hand-in-hand. You know that smile your Grandpa gets when he’s telling a story, and right when things look their darkest he gets to the good part? I do.

He created whole worlds for me, and I just want to tell his story as one last ‘thank you’ to him.