Walking. In Pursuit of Stalker.

July 2, 2022July 2, 2022 ~ Live & Learn ~ 42 Comments

4:40 a.m. Daybreak walk at Cove Island Park. 788 consecutive (almost) days. Like in a row.

Yesterday, Eric (#1 Son; #1 on most days) and I were at the kitchen table having lunch. Popeyes Spicy Chicken Sandwiches (and Cajun Fries). If you haven’t tried it, it is absolutely the best. (And yes, it easily tops Chick-fil-A, Shake Shack, McDonald’s and Wendy’s. I know.)

Now, what isn’t as easily digested, are the calorie counts. Chick-fil-A @ ~ 500 calories. Popeyes sandwich tops 1200 calories. Add 800 calories for the fries, and what you have here is FDAs maximum calorie intake for an entire day, in a matter of < 10 minutes.

So, I step on the digital scale this morning…flashing, flashing, flashing, measuring, measuring, measuring, weighing, weighing, weighing…an interminable wait, that couldn’t have been more than 2 secs,….Then boom it locks in: + 2 lbs, day over day. WTH!

Mind races through yesterday’s meals. Ah yes, Popeyes. Plus, 1760 mg of Sodium in the fries. Another 1460 mg of sodium in the Chicken Sandwich = 3220 mg in < 10 minutes, a whopping 1000 mg over what FDA recommends daily.

That’s what we have here. An, old, fat, nearly retired, giant Salt Lick. Disgusting. Disgusted. So, was it worth it? You work so hard to cut weight and then blow it all up in < 10 minutes of food porn lust.

I think about this while I’m standing on one leg, balancing, wondering if I have another 5 years to live. Yep, I’d have Popeyes again today for lunch, identical order. Saliva builds.

So, back to yesterday’s lunch. Eric tells me that his Buddy was chatting with a friend of his who happened to mention that she walks at Cove Island Park each morning to catch the sunrise. Buddy proceeds to tell her about his best friend’s Dad and his daybreak walks at Cove Island Park. Eric, continues, “I think she said something like: ‘You know, I see this older guy at the park every morning. Backpack. Camera gear. Doesn’t ever say anything. Really keeps to himself. Strange guy.'”

“She said that? Exactly that?” Continue reading “Walking. In Pursuit of Stalker.” →

Walking Cross-Town. With Al.

July 2, 2016July 2, 2016 ~ Live & Learn ~ 25 Comments

Jorie Graham: “The slow overture of rain, each drop breaking without breaking into the next, describes the unrelenting, syncopated mind.” (from “Mind,” Hybrids of Plants and of Ghosts.)

6:30 am.
The train pulls into Grand Central, and clears. I sit. And wait.
The conductor walks up the aisle gathering tickets.
I cue up a Paul Simon playlist and walk.
The platform is empty. Stragglers amble toward the exits.
I nod to the armed guard, and slip through the open door onto 42nd, passing a conga line of yellow cabs. Not today gentlemen, not today. We’re walking Cross-Town.

Good morning America.
Dawn in Manhattan.
Sun Power lights up the skyscrapers, they lean in from the shadows to warm.
A wisp of a breeze cools, a welcome cut of the ever-present humidity, and a respite from the simmering trash and the marinating urine.

The electronic horse walks.
There’s a skip in the step this morning, loaded with a full night’s sleep, and boosted by Sun’s Solar Power. Beast and Beast. One up Top. One on the ground. Duo is Un-freak-ing-stoppable. Continue reading “Walking Cross-Town. With Al.” →

Driving I-95 S. With all things Sacred.

August 22, 2015 ~ Live & Learn ~ 36 Comments

traffic, cars,highway,drive

4 am.
The windows mist up and clear.
Wipers, never short of stamina, never lose their rhythm, clear the morning rain.
The soft click of the back and forth, lull me into a gentle place.

Waze signals 10.5 hours in front of us.
I’m the first to carry the baton.
I’m pressing to slingshot over the GW Bridge ahead of rush hour.
Rain, highway warning signs, road construction.
Truckers, tourists, insomiacs – all being squeezed, four lanes into one.
We clear.

We fly out of the shoot and enter the NJ turnpike.
The right hand makes slight course corrections.
The right foot steady, to 82 mph.
Makin’ time in Summer time.

Susan sleeps in the back.
Eric snores to my right.
But for the hum of the engine, the cabin is quiet.
A thin stream of light lines the horizon, dawn stretching to lift Night.
Quiet? Not.
More like Levithan’s Unquiet – words and thoughts crash into each other.

It’s Eric’s Senior Year.
Mom and Dad are dropping off their precious cargo and deadheading back.
The Melancholy Bus rides again. Continue reading “Driving I-95 S. With all things Sacred.” →