‘Why is traffic not moving?’ sipping my coffee, nearly on gulps, a swig of spring water, the minutes turn to fifteen, fifteen feet maybe moved, on the turnpike, no exit within sight, I fiddle with my radio, adjust the tunes, tap the wheel, pretend to be happy with the distraction, and I am, for at least an instant, then I realize, coffee gone and downed, halfway through the spring water… I look up and focus for once time in an hour…
I am stuck in traffic behind a truck, carrying porta-pottys, the irony- not being able to go and not being able to go.
I guess I will have to hold it… (and my frustration).
Tag: humor
that sunset grin.
so there I was…
riding off into the sunset, um, ok, driving into the sunset, coming back from my first covid test, been lucky to avoid the arrows until now but a couple of coworkers tested positive so these are the times we are living in, enough about that really, more about the sunset, sure, we are not talking shoreline paradise here, route 1 south in edison nj, but somehow, someway all that dropped south of my view, a really nice near perfect orange half a globe sitting there on the horizon, I must have been travelling near due west, well, maybe slightly to the left, this time of year the light is not blinding, well, mostly, so I was literally driving into the sunset, a smile came upon my face, I mean, if this was my last moment, why not go out with a grin, I can’t complain about my time, sure, I would like more, and probably have plenty more, but some day, sooner than I can contemplate, the world will be tired of me, and fate will dial up my number one last time, so why not do it with a grin?
I merge onto the garden state, just to jump a couple of exits rather than deal with all the local lights, I need only stay in the right lane, not even a mile once I am on, why in the world is their traffic at this hour, ah, I can just wait it out, it is not bumper to bumper but is certainly not the open flow I was expecting to go, I could jump a lane over, ah, c’mon man, relax, not that far to go, apparently not for some of those in front of me, jumping ships, or lanes and then I see it, my exit and also the slow culprit, what are the odds they are getting off at my exit? ahhh, you’ve seen this movie before, me too, 990% chance they are going my way, thankfully I am still wearing my sunrise smile and am just amused at the situation, other days maybe, other days I might have lit up like a firecracker enraged, but today? nah, lucky him, well, I can’t say him, in fact, the car in front of me looks quite empty, whomever is driving is tiny, or invisible, probably just short, I know it can’t be an automated car, to my recollection late 90’s corrollas did not come with that feature, now, off my exit there is two ways you can go, of course slowrolla is going my way (turn signal? not so much), I am laughing now, I am not sure if the people behind me are as amused but, hey, this is my blog story man, get your own! of course the first right is my turn… and the auto car turns, of course, I finally lose the person (assumption, you never know) near the home stretch, only a couple of more turns to go… I suppose I missed the baton hand off, because slowrolla has a relative, or a cohort, a partner in this crime, with a mercedes SUV, at least this looks occupied, and it also occupies the whole road, I never understood compensating for parked cars by driving on the wrong side of the road, must be me, on some other day I might be loosing my mind, but today? I’m in on the joke it seems, the slowcedes turns off literally the street before mine, “here ya go, a little scrap a tidbit” the world says to me as at least the way to my driveway was clear, I park, shake my head for a second at the absurdity, and retire inside to write this piece, still with that dumb grin shellacked on my face, from that sun that has gone under by the time this is done.
notes… not just because this post is Epic, well. it probably isn’t, but I am just on a FNM kick lately, Angel Dust is my jam, one of the best weird albums ever made that kind of made in mainstream.. of course I am partial to Mr. Bungle but what do I know…
breaking up is hard to do (from Sirius XM)
let this be a cautionary tale, since I get company vehicles I received satellite radio with each new one, I was out on the road more often in the past so I signed up for XM service fulltime on my dime, however, in these pandemic daze… or days, I am not nearly out on the road so much (plus I have tons of stuff to listen to on my USB drive anywho), I got a new car (and my ex-car was passed to a new tech) so I figured I would just let my XM subscription run out by itself and not even worry about it (giving the new guy free radio for a bit), easy peasy, right? nah… not so much… I get this screaming yellow letter that my account is past due and they will continue to charge me (the credit card on file is expired), so I figure I could cancel this online… right? nope… back to screaming yellow letter, the phone number in big print should work…nope… well then, at the very very very bottom, and in ant size oompa loompa font print there is a completely different phone number for cancel requests, Stall Tactic #1 (here on out known as “ST#”), so I call the (small) number, I have to verify my entire DNA genome, twice, (I mean just an account number is not sufficient in this day and age? please…), that would be ST#2 for those keeping score @ home, call center connects, I have to verify all my info, again, twice (seriously, ST#3), guess what? their computer system is having ‘trouble’ (ST#4+), I get put on hold a few times for this, semi-robotic-non-sincere apologies are not exactly soothing my soul, not to mention that the words “I want to cancel” do not seem to penetrate into the lobe of the phone conductor, so after this myriad of delays (15 minutes in now) the clerk informs me I need to ‘take care of my balance’ for the amount my radio was being ‘used’ past the expiration date, $24.14… OK, no big deal, I’m ready to deal, seems simple? nope… I am informed that I need to pay a total of $241.64 to bring my account current (that is the yearly rate), what? but then I would be issued a credit … wait for it… “if I want to cancel”… (insert hair pulling here), so almost 30 min in @ this point and I have to pay ahead to go ahead and cancel my account, maddening, I protest, a couple more times put on hold (ST#5), finally the clerk reads me some legal mumbo jumbo and is going to take my $24.14 to bring my account current, whew, near done? right… ? nah… so I give her my credit card number, twice (of course), put on hold… she comes back, ‘I’m sorry that card is declined’ (ST#6+), this is a brandy new card, I have near perfect credit, and there is not even a balance on it… so, we go through the card number again, twice (as if you had to ask?), put on hold… and low and behold, viola! my card works, how magical… she says ‘OK, your account is current after the $241.64 charge’, what?!? now I think I understand that astronaut who put on diapers and drove across the country… so I again, reiterated irately that I wanted to “cannnnncelllll theeeeee aaaaaahhhcountttttt”, (cruising past the 40 minute mark now), ‘I understand but before I can transfer you to that department -were you able to have everything you needed done on our call today?-‘ (phone drop sound, on my end) “No, of course not, how can you even ask that question?!” ‘ok, sir, sorry for the inconvenience, please hold’… (ST#, ahh… who’s counting), another person picks up, I think you can guess what happens here, I have to give them my information… from scratch… again… I was pretty much at my end here so… the conversation went south (I am omitting a bunch of ‘put on holds’ for the sake of my sanity)…
“I want to cancel my service”
‘do you no longer have the 2017 Hyundai?’
“No, it was crashed and took both my legs with it”
(and without a hitch…)
‘so will you be getting a new vehicle?’
“No, my wheel chair does not have a radio”
‘well, I was looking through your account and it seems we can offer you 41% off for the year, that would be a credit of $120 off what you have already paid for the year’
“NO… I WANT TO CANCEL MY ACCOUNT”
(nearly an hour in… last nerve twitched and frazzled, but I did not use obscenities’.. I was close though… so damn close…)
and finally… finally… I get a confirmation of the cancellation… now I know what it feels like to run a marathon and break through that little tape thing @ the end and collapse in a joyous puddle of my own fluids… ok, maybe that’s a touch gross… but I digress…
I don’t support boycotts and the like… but companies should be called out for garbage like this…
thoughts from the porch…
damn the heat, sitting here, stewing like potted meat, my legs are pincushions, feeding stations, they look like shot up road signs in rural locations (for those unfamiliar there is a tradition of shooting at signs out in the sticks, hey it can be boring out there), but I want to soak in the last lines of light tonight anyway, knowing (well always hoping) that the next day will come, but I certainly do not want to let this one go, not yet, sticking to shade today did not dissuade the helter swelter, but the recent tropical storm left a mess, nothing major thanks, but still lots of limbs and branches to gather once I cleared the obvious big ones post event, and yet other ones to cull and cut, I’m not a professional landscaper but perhaps I could play one on TV, probably not a good idea for a TV show, not even on DYI network now that I think about it, so there I was melting, as the summer sun can do to you, even by convection baking, taking my time, stopping for breaks, wondering why my water did not get cold enough so I put a bottle in the freezer, sure to forget and find an ice block later, but then, in moments gathered, like a sponge realizing it’s purpose, akin to soaking in, I would stand there in the middle of my driveway, lookup skyward high, and admire the immediate warmth I could focus, staring at the sun directly with my eyes quite closed, but I can still see that heat seeking globe, more orange and red penetrating through my downed garage door eyelids, how good the warmth feels, like getting near a fire just close enough, just far enough, to not be burnt, that satisfying glow, as all your outer layer is exposed and rises, at first from outer and then from the inside, reflection of radiation radiating, pulsing, like a breath exchange, in and out – in and out, like symmetrical twin-couplet waves never crashing just as if a buoy on the eternal ocean rising and falling in perfect calm increments, breathing up and down, the warming sensation on my face until I sense the intensity nearing a red line, or a burn, so I turn and go back about my business, or nonsense, somewhat satisfied, charged, with light, and the warmth that has fueled life itself, I sweat more in the toil in the shade than in that moment, and the energy is drained, quickly, little twinges in my back, here and there, remind me of my age, my limits, I’m not confined to ancient stock, not yet, but perhaps closer to that than the indomitable spirit of childhood or even early manhood, the middle ages were not the best times for man, perhaps this is true for now, for me, who knows, I can only be me, anything else would be delusion, although many might have tried that particular path myself included, but today I am just me, sitting here, worldly duties fulfilled, the silent and not so contract with my neighbors filled (property values are an underlying strong current in this urban sport), my prize, sitting for a moment to glare off at the fire bitten clouds, watch the sun slowly sink down, the week’s end, back to the grind of work in the morning, but I must remain armed, armed with these soft moments, energy spent, sweat, sweat around my neck and down my back, all sorts of the insect world half bent at taking turns at my epidermal spigot, so I let them have at it, maybe I will itch to a bleed later, but for now, I just want to sip in this sun, the fading rays of waning summer days, for they are life, best to charge up now when things are bright, like the land, to be ripe in fall and be prepared to sleep and dream of days, days like this when the sun draws into the night and the cold, the cold is just a tale on days like this.
notes: part of my porch series ya’ silly goose, it varies by times of year of course….
spaghetti eastern…
.shallow shampoo
the simple things, right? in the shower this morning, fingers luxuriating in my now short hair, I suppose my mostly comfy suburb life never viewed a haircut as a luxury item, but I suppose it can be, at least a professional one, I was definitely a passenger on the bus toward mullet-ville during this quarantine as I could only trim my front and sides – somewhat adequately, what a difference now, I am reminded of how I used to make it a point to scrub my scalp to magically activate the nodes, to perhaps get the blood flowing or something, an anecdotal ritual to ward off baldness or summon youth or both, foolish, I know, funny how certain things ring true though and just pop into your mind instantly years later, as if you are walking through an old library and pick a random book off the shelf that happens to apply to the right now sudden situation unfold, I would not look good bald, I always have told myself that, maybe, maybe I will never know, but I am pretty confident that the whole bald thing is not for me, well, at least for now…
.speeding and relative consequences
driving to work the traffic is slowly gathering and coming back to normal, not quite there but there are definitely more travelers week by week, I notice a train crossing over the turnpike, I know, that does not sound exciting, and, well, it isn’t, but for all the times I have made this drive I can not recall ever seeing it, strange… the weather prognosticators have been wrong the past couple of days, I am aware a real storm is coming, but the little ones before the big one never arrived as prescribed by the all knowing weather gods, the sky is bright, there are clouds that look like inverted sand dunes, the type that look like they were imprinted from a chain link fence being pressed on the surface, I know it is a natural phenomena but amazing just the same, the NYC skyline looks like a cheap fake today, literally like a 2D paper cut out of what a ‘city’ should look like, of course there are recognizable forms, the empire state building, the freedom tower etc., but, maybe it is just the fact that I have driven by so many times, that I am not in awe, this sprawling metropolis at a distance, I know the streets, the smells, the sounds, the avenues, the parks, all of it, just from here it looks like a flimsy supermarket end-cap cardboard representation, flat without any juice… I suppose I am speeding, technically speaking, but sometimes doing 80 feels normal, earlier I was doing 70 but with no one around, no reference, no company, that felt like speeding, and now cruising near 85 mph I am almost day dreaming locked in a smooth straight ride, I hardly notice the Audi A8 barreling up behind me, I’m not hogging the left lane, I’m not one of ‘those’ drivers, I leave a good three cars of space in front most of the time, but the Audi just flashes on by as if I am walking, “now that is speeding” I think to myself, with a little disgust as I do recoil at those who pass through all the lanes weaving back and forth (“stay right pass left” ingrained like a tattoo in my skull), I suppose it should not matter much, but damn, I have to admit, it bothers me and I can’t bring myself to do the same even if, honestly, in the long run, it is not a big deal, funny the curbs we place on our own roads…
.arrival
the excitement, the actual palatable rise in contentment, from spotting a sparkling parking spot out in front of the office, waiting for the light left arrow green, the mantra begins in my head “c’mon man, c’mon man”, squeezing the wheel tighter just like pushing the elevator button a few more times as if it will do something to speed up the time, I turn and signal right to the curb, I look around, head on a swivel like I am stealing something, hello hand meet cookie jar, or maybe…maybe I am missing something? I double check the parking sign three times, a sign I have seen one thousand million times before, and I check it once more, I question in my mind what day this is for, maybe I should check my expectations at the door if this is what gets a rise out of me in the morning, I guess expectations are relative, and they are, first to the office this morning, no prize, no ribbon, turn off the alarms and go through that minor panic that I might forget the codes, as if the world would end or the building will explode, and the phone is ringing, it is not 8:30 am yet, don’t these fools know the rules? I feel like I am getting over on them by not answering the phone until the prescribed time, how we wrap ourselves in this world with the garb, the costumes, the hat and gloves, of momentary importance, which is surely not, just a wait station between things that actually mean something.
…definitely time for coffee, splash of skim, packet of stevia, and dive right in…
cultural divide (a short ditty, true story)
so anyway, if you read me, my blog I mean, I like to people watch from my porch and take in the super local nature at the same time, the other day some deer were born in my backyard and I caught one of the little fellas on video, so there I am sitting out last night, enjoying the lovely weather, letting nature purge the knots of my daily humanity, so on walks by this older Russian couple, I don’t know Russian but I guess I saw enough stereotyped movies in the 80s to recognize Russian, anyway, all of a sudden the wife starts walking up my neighbor’s lawn across the street, this is curious of course, but then I see one of the little baby deer I filmed last week, she was getting in close for a photo with her phone, I thought, so I walked over to see the deer also, I mean, cmon, they are adorable, I don’t care who you are, it is instant Bambi love moment man, sure, when they are older I think “yum, venison steak” but at that age? they are like forest puppies, so, she finally gets within spittin’ distance and the little one bolts, mama appears on the scene and they disappear off into the next block, so from across the street I tell them “I just saw that one born last week”, and without skipping a beat, in a very, almost made up, laid on thick Russian accent she blunts out (now say this out loud in the accent to get the effect)…
“it is baby… it is stupid”
ah, yeah, ruined that moment dead flat but those words just sounded so hilarious to me, the only clever thing I could think to say was “we were all stupid when we were babies”, and we both went our separate ways, so, the takeaway, maybe everyone is not as enamored with baby deer as I am…
thoughts, from the porch… (a moment in the sun)
taking a moment to soak in the sundown, not really a sunset most nights (like the kind when you hear the word “sunset“), my view is not of some majestic mountains or other similar bucolic loveliness, no, just the sun dipping below sight, tucked behind my neighbor’s house, but it will suffice, until something nicer comes along, I suppose that is what vacations are for, I close my eyes intently & intensely to concentrate on what is left of the day’s rays, to absorb every single last joule of radiant solar energy, hopefully put smartly into my internal battery, if there is such a thing, well, at least there is in my imagination that is, so go with it, I suppose this is meditation of sorts, on outside observation I probably look half asleep, and in fact I think I may have teetered back and forth a bit, perhaps eyes open is a better option after a long day of remote client support, one of those days the phone rang before I could even comprehend the morning, and non stop flow until the clock was up, one of those days that after I tell myself to not allow myself to get wound, but by 10am and 2 coffees in I’m down that hole spinning ’round and ’round, so this is like my decompression chamber, well, more like my green open space, not a private matter as all passersby can cast their judgments and questionable looks upon me, I try to spin close the leaky spigot of my thoughts, let my mind expand out into a relaxed pause, I concentrate on a blade of grass gently bobbing up and down, just slightly taller than the rest, that is why it stands out, I scan around & wonder @ all the manner of green hues in the leaves occupying the personal canopy of my yard, the birds sound even, singing even, not chatter or arguments or chirping fits or territorial spits, the chaos of the world seems lulled by mild order and the meandering pitch perfect wind, as the breeze works toward and over like just warm pulsing bath water across my bare ankles, I have at least this little escape, this space of mine for this time, sitting somewhat selfish with a beaming inner satisfaction, as the breeze leaves me in the past like a clever thief, I notice the savage has been sapped from within my keep… rejuvenation, a moment in the sun. (thanks earth, I owe you one)
notes… as always, thanks for the looks, the views, the thoughts, the news, any and all comments are appreciated, negative or positive, it’s cool, thanks for taking the time to check out my little blog. I would say I do it for you… but nah, this is my art, I do it for me, I hope people like it, I want people to dig it? sure. But one is enough, 10,000 would rule, but hey, I ain’t that out of my head …
PS: maybe I am stupid, but I tag my posts accurately, that probably explains the highs and lows, the spikes and the tumbleweed, but that is what I do, that is who I am…
Wicked Cargo…
the ship has left port, many years now, on the open ocean, never can tell how long the voyage will last, never can tell how vast the ocean really is (although theories have been floated for all of our years), just that at some point, it ends, there are tales and maps of some mystical magical land, but no man has returned hence, only rumors, hope and despairs, should I as well follow this folly? what choice might I have, to sail in circles, to try and double back to my original destination, no, I point to the horizon, for what good is traversing already traveled routes, yes, I know them well, and any dangers in them I have navigated before, there is calm in the comfort there, but I seek more, I only have what I have brought, in my hold there is so much stored up these years, boxes of inventory I probably could no longer identify, things from far and wide, foreign lands, foreign hands, but all have gotten me here, so should I lighten the load, and forget these forgotten things? maybe in the mess is really pandora’s guess, I could be hatching all the mistakes yet once over again, or do I risk rising over the same ones by not reminiscing in the failures once passed, the balance in the ballast is a constant task, so many have come and gone, but yet you are left all alone to make the decisions, all the wisdom that lies beneath this sea, brilliance and wickedness all washed underneath, bathed in the same waves that rock back and forth for me, and toward the north star at night, so bright as to catch all imagination of eyes, a call to attention, to the world, to humanity itself, for these eyes are not seeing anew, they are seeing the same as all the travelers will, future and past, parent to child, for there has been no columbus as yet unfold, but yet we must be bold and push further, out to the setting sun, past the rising light, break the curve of that said horizon, to find the light, the land, the promise, the hand, that might reach out and touch the domain of the everlasting.
notes… hey, I am child of the 80s, ok maybe an odd one, my first musical love was Duran Duran, then I got into Def Leppard (I would play air guitar on my newfangled Prince racket that was all the rage), Metallica (being into metallica back in that day was not cool/normal by the way), Voivod (touted as the fastest band around), King’s X (the most underrated rock band of all time), Testament, Exodus (that song is a lost anthem), Anthrax (fun band)… and always classical, I was the preppy nerd who was friends with all the burn outs (the kids in black metal shirts who smoked)… it was a simple time back in high school in my town…
‘triggers’ – sassafras
we all have them, perhaps we are aware of some, some creep up out of nowhere and make themselves known, well, of course we do really know from which they emanate, from our past, our experiences, life’s little moments or big ones or those in-between, I am always fascinated when one pops up from under the ether, today was one of those times, I was off in my social distant preserve, well, ok, even pre-pandemic this little corner was always a lone go, if I saw more than two people in a given day that would be a record, there is this space here in New Jersey, only a 15 minute drive for me, that is rather unique, a winding park where a brook (non babbling, more of a give and take conversationalist) carves through ancient rock formations and is constantly washing fossils into the stream, and it is 100% free and legal to meander through the entire thing and look/dig for said fossils, this is not a common thing, anywhere that is, so the privilege is certainly there, being alone in nature, especially on a lovely day such as this, well, that’s a bonus, so, I travel there to escape the normal world, to unwind, listen to the micro waterfalls and birds sounding all around, I go there often when the dial hits above 70 degrees, so why was today different?
Sassafras
for the uninitiated, or people not from around these parts, I will give you a moment to follow the link and get the basics… (waiting…) … …
OK, that’s enough time, but man Dave, can you get this thing back on track already? eh, you’re right, maybe I should call this blog “tangents” at times, but this post is “triggers”, so back to the matter, sassafras has such a specific meaning for me, such a direct correlation than just some random tree, if you see one (they are easy to spot once you know, three different types of leaves), if you see one rip off a leaf, rip that in half and then again, then sniff it all in, it is a singular smell, like lemon and pine adopted a beautiful child, you can even make tea from the leaves, BUT! that smell, that experience of ripping the leaves and the inhale, transports me back instantly to day camp, my first experiences in the wilderness outside the woods of my town, taking the bus up into the Watchung mountains (tame mounts by any count), tree forts, corn stalk fields to run in, bug juice (a cheap version of Kool Aid/Juicy Juice I think), hunting for salamanders under rocks, the pop of box turtles as the bus ran them over and climbed the hill to camp (not the most pleasant memory I admit but it was so distinct), day camp, the first time I was really away from the folks for any length of time, everything seems like an eternity at that age, every single day was a complete enclosed adventure, and the next day, start over, tighty-whities with your name sewed in, handed the brown paper bag lunch with the same stuff, board the bus, anticipate the winding drive up, run out like a dam burst, claim your cubbyhole, and frolic about, I even got to sheer sheep, looking back, maybe not a skill I would need, but making macaroni necklaces isn’t exactly a vocation either… so sassafras, it brings all this flooding back, in an instant, like a flash flood from my subconscious, things I have not thought of in decades, from just that simple scent, that singular scent, all wrapped up in past experience, I have a sudden hankering for bug juice…
‘proof of life’ an exposition… or just observance, or, ah screw it…
awash in the whirlpool of life, the little details that spin your head and move your focus round about, this morning, such the chore, taking the car to the dealership for a required check up, they open at 8am and I am no friend of the early morning, well, at least until I grab a hold of a large cup of joe, coffee, that is, to the uninitiated, I must have been feeling fancy this morning and went to my keurig with a starbucks hazelnut blend, I usually just bust out the bustello, my usual friend, but I do love a little hazelnut now and again, the dealership is nice enough, tucked up in a corner of jersey (denville), there are all these little negotiations we make in the daily dance, do I put my mask on … now? do I go inside? or just follow the sign that says ‘enter on green arrow’ by the garage, I’m second in line, so I think the pressure is defaulted to the person in front, but they are not stirring, 7:57am, so close now, everything looks closed, the website says 9am open but my info told me otherwise, 7:58am now and not a creature is stirring, my mind races for no real concrete reason at all, but tell that to my mind, 7:59, I think I see someone, a shadow at least milling around inside, 8am, as if on cue, as if by magic, or just an utterly mundane tuesday morning, the garage opens and in rolls candidate number one in front, do I pull up? do I wait? what, am I negotiating a multinational trade deal here, get a grip, so I do, on the radio dial, but the top of the hour is all news, yawn, no thanks, time for tunes, the blessing and curse of the modern, hundreds of albums to choose from, maybe I am better off turning the radio off, maybe the coffee has had more of an effect on me than I would like to admit (I have to say during this whole pandemic thing I have not been hitting my fix of caffeine as often as I used to), so, perhaps that is what is on my edge this morning, a catalyst for neurotic notions, so I need to… relax, I admonish myself that this sure beats being at work, doesn’t it? and then the clouds part, I’m waved in, no doubt about it, I pull up to the appointed place, company car, company appointment, I pretty much don’t have to do squat… but squat out in the waiting area outside for awhile apparently, socially distant rules apply, a younger guy sits at the table next to mine, he brought his laptop, damn, I should have thought of that, they surely have decent WiFi, there is only so much I can do on my phone, so time to wait it out, the threat of rain looms, I play some games, watch the car carrier unload, time seems slow, I am not sure if that is my car, I mean I am at the dealership, there are tons of ‘my car’ there by default, and there, in the corner of my eye, something moves, fluttering on by, a meandering pattern, well, not a pattern then, a meandering flight, up-down and mostly right to left, a moth, stark perfect white, I do not know why, nor could I tell you what, but I felt surprisingly alive, a moment of confirmation, all wrapped up in this mundane everyday situation, snapped back into the realization of life, life! just a simple thought, from a simple moth, a little nudge from the outside… or above… I’m alive, I am ALIVE…
Shades of My Garden 