Are the stores closed?
Will the wind dream tonight?
Too many wonders, too much sorrow.
So walk on down .
Echoes of a wistful solo
may take flight as one's
angelic fury grips another twilight.
So walk on bye.
A rumble, a whisper and he's off.
Hoping not to listen,
to see, nor taste another roar
as heart’s crescendo pounds a beat.
So stop the ride.
Words – they mean, they wander,
trace, define and unravel
the wanderlust of this love.
So look to the west.
And catch the soft hope of dawn.
Where we start, and where we end, are often so close it’s scary. Many folks travel the globe, literally or intellectually during their careers, and long to retire near where they grew up. Used to think it odd but the older I get, the more sense it makes.
Me, I figure to end up back in diapers, bib and drooling. “Yeah, baby, groovy!” Poor Mrs. TMM, having to deal with THAT picture. The drooling has started already, though usually as involves a nice Victorian house on some tree’d and nicely sidewalk’d Small Town America setting. And the bib comes out during the feasts on the campouts I so enjoy! Diapers? Not yet, amigo.
I think back to my mother. It began with her, something I rue to think I don’t often enough remember AND act on it. I have the regular phone calls down, more or less, but that’s lame after 48-odd years. There’s the substance, the meaning, and I need to keep working on it. TMM cannot stand telephones, a problem when mama is hundreds of miles away in the land of Sun, Fun & Developer/Consumer/Ecosystem Mayhem (aka, Florida).
I think back too to my wife, my life partner in crime. It continued and bloomed with her, something I NEVER forget. That was easy, eh? Life is love, love is sharing, and onward we go into the sunshine.
That means today’s referenced song (paraphrased below) is an absolute no-brainer: ‘Cut Across, Shorty’ by Rod Stewart, circa 1969-ish:
Cut across, Shorty, cut across
That’s what Miss Lucy said
It’s you that I want to wed.
……
There was a smile upon his face,
because Lucy had fixed the race.
……
Cut across, Shorty, cut across
Oh Lord, it’s you I want to wed.
(Note: "passway" is a word that appears to come from the 19th century Mississippi Delta Blues culture, meaning, yep, "path way.")
Ever have nothing useful to say when you talk to someone obviously in need? Someone who could use a kind word, help, hug or a thoughtfulness beyond the pithy motions of our usual day? That hit me twice the other day – no, three painful times – and I’m wondering why. I was in the moment, interacted and left each chat on a positive note, hopefully of help to the other person. That’s sooooo Jane Austen-ish, huh? But their problems/tragedies aren’t from a book, but painful realities that I only touch on.
I feel like I’m living a curse this week, that of an observer of life. It’s often easier to be in the thick of things, tackling the problems and just DOING. Instead, the watching, waiting and trying to help others can be tough, as you surely know. And life gives no quarter just because the going is tough.
TMM, like other typical guys, has taken deserved heat for trying to fix things that just shouldn’t/can’t be fixed. It’s often about listening. Yes, just listen. Don’t judge, don’t fix and definitely don’t read into things in life’s wide grey zone. Yes, just accept. As a father, as a friend, this can be the toughest damn thing I get to do.
To end today’s post also on a positive note, I reflect on a favorite comforting lyric when I encounter the troublesome ‘stones in my passway’:
I felt the coldness of my winter.
I curse the gloom that set upon us.
But I know that I love you so.
Robert Plant/Led Zeppelin
Yeah, I’m guilty as self-charged today. My weird idea of a psuedo-poem follows below.
(Note: this goofiness is done in appreciation to the hours spent with Mssr. Jon Bon Jovi and due to my life as a dedicated bureaucrat!)
I drive all night to get to that gold
And I feel so wanted
dead or alive.
(not!)
My executive correspondence
could ring a chord
like a guitar lick.
(sigh)
But no matter what Congress
does, doesn’t, should, could or would,
we trudge toward our deadlines.
(rumination)
“Be stiff of upper lip,
scowl your discontent
and rearrange those pretty chairs!,”
my mates in the
Dance Band of the Titanic.
Yes, that’s what I almost became this morning, only 6 minutes into a 35-minute run. The ‘it’s all about me’ moron at the quiet residential intersection almost hit me WHILE I was jogging with-the-light. The aggravating part was that I was the second person on the crosswalk – and the other person hadn’t yet gotten to the curb!
More aggravating was the skid mark on the pavement … from a vehicle that a couple seconds earlier was completely stopped to make a left-hand turn. Marks. Three feet from my slow butt.
Maybe most aggravating was the letdown afterward – you ever have ‘buyer’s remorse’? I had ‘pissed -off jogger’s remorse’ due to what I said about the SUV-wielding gentlemen’s intelligence. He actually stopped and rolled down his window to try to blame me. That’s when I dragged his mother into the conversation. And threw in a nice suggestive gesture. Talk about an invite to a throw-down. I spent the next 29 minutes mulling over that I ain’t the smartest bulb in the box…
[sigh]
If you would like to accompany me on a jog, feel free! Or, if you have advice, feel free to educate TMM on the ways smarter people handle the world!
That little hurricane, one soon passed and left us wiser but not wise enough. Why? Is Mother Gaia speaking to more than Al Gore? I dunno.
But I also don’t care. Ever tell your kids or friends that you don’t always get to pick and choose your fights? Here’s one for ya. DC weathers (bad pun, eh?) earthquake, a windy hurricane, a soggy flooder of a tropical storm -- and probably fires and the four Horsemen of the Apocalypse down the street.
Injury? Yes, nearly since my poor shed started getting flooded and I was two inches from a heckuva lot of work. Poor roof really could some TLC or just replace it, though it’s not but ten years old. Hey, maybe the shed could sink Texas-style into a nice pond and up our property values.
Then we have Congress again living us on the edge of a shutdown. You goofballs. “We are Most Premium workers in Most Excellent country!” (now a shout-out to Everything is Illuminated – a superb movie with Frodo Boy as a worthy lead).
Storms pass and so too shall these eddies in the slipstream of life and chaos…
P.S. Do you know the Horsemen (traditional version): Conquest, War, Famine & Death (Pestilence replaced Conquest in modern pop culture)
Like Robert Plant said, “It’s been a long time since I rock and rolled.” TMM has been unusually busy-busy so focused on the ball, not the blog…
But Karen D’s wonderful news of her Sept. 12 engagement helped bring me back from my time of toil. That, and life constantly blowing down the ol’ stable door.
Anyway, the ‘Bus Oddities’ was so much fun that I thought to do likewise for the street life, my other home…
· Elevator etiquette is a subject of many a blog, article and probably even an Indie-published book. I’ll sidestep this odd box of human encounters and touch only on positioning. Why do some people basically HIDE in the $#*! thing? The door opens, you go to walk in, and belatedly someone steps into the entryway from behind the corner. Are they purposely lurking by the panel to make me jump outta my shoes?!
· Entrepreneurial Spirit Award, 2011: the HVAC guy loading his toys curbside into the trunk of his late-model Ford Mustang Cobra. You know, the thing with 500+ horsepower and a burble that knocks loose anything not tied down? He’s getting it done with style!
· The design of American towns perplexes me. Such a mishmash of architectural styles. Ever see the Tour de France? And notice the near-identical roofing colors and often façade styles? I’m not advocating vanilla housing but it sure is easier on the eyeballs and kind of pretty too, at least in France, where they know a thing or two about architectural elegance.
· Tourista wandering about, half-lost and delirious with heat exhaustion, and looking like they’re enjoying themselves. Madness. Yeah, color me jaded or jealous. Tell you what: send me postage-paid to Paris and make me wander the walkways along the Seine. I’ll report back to you, and take self-pix, to see if I too have this happy look. What a sacrifice for science that will be.
· The tie-in to Bus Oddities that started this all: People boarding the commuter bus and looking happy about it. What?!?! Eating dirt would be better. But you’d have to be a bionic earthworm to convert that pastime into a conveyance homeward. That’s food for thought! [the keyboard made me type that bad joke, ok?!]
You may know that TMM considers himself decently smart. A DODDS kid (aka Army brat who went to Dept of Defense’s schools on military posts). And fairly savvy about the basics in life. Heck, I used to work in UNIX, Solaris and other fancy-schmancy operating systems. Not that I knew what I was doing some of the time...
So, gentle reader, how is it I – and our IT department – did not know that my laptop has a strip of lights above the keyboard that also function as buttons?!?! After nine months and several wireless problems, I finally realize the wireless light turns from orange to blue when that button is touched. I must have touched it when wiping the keypad clean. And turned off my wireless card! I now resolve to live less cleanly.
[argh]
There are other little laptop buttons whose functions are beyond me. A touch and they flash, but nothing (apparently) happens. I think there’s a little electronic troll inside my laptop, one who hungers for electronic hobbit toes but settles for causing mayhem the next time I hook to office’s Intranet. He’s laughing now at me.
But I’ll get my revenge. I’ll keep pushing the buttons until something happens. I’m not beyond punishing myself! Go ahead, push all your own buttons too on ALL your electronic devices! We’ll get back at all this IT – because soon some won’t work and that will teach them.
It’s great to act childish on a Friday afternoon. Keeps me grounded…
Oxford’s Concise English Dictionary soon will feature this word. A single body suit for men. I don’t even know where to begin with this one ...
Maybe it’s a good thing – it's the great equalizer at the beach. I mean, we’d look equally silly no matter the spec’s of the donuts we often carry around. Or fuller tires for some. This topic reminds me of why it sounds so much simpler to accept being heavier, if you’re healthy and it’s your lifestyle and eating habits that bring it on. All that time spent worrying about calories and transmogrified cholesterol counts. I'd rather savor my Krispy Kremes!
Hey, how about we have these mankini’s at work? Women, you do what you feel like but us guys are gonna start one-piecing our way around the shop, wearing flip-flops and neat ties that clip onto the suit. It would put our bosses in a whole new light, and we’d focus on results and outcomes instead of persona and accessories.
Wonder what my best colors would be? And what would my wife say about her man in spandex? After she picks herself off the floor, rolling with laughter? Hmm, maybe this isn’t such a great idea.
