It was last month.  I don’t recall the day.  Just another weekday.

Off to work.  Barreling down I-95. Same route.  Each day.  Autopilot.  Not Kabat-Zinn’s Mindfulness.  Simple Mindlessness.

Flicking through iPod.  Can’t settle on a band or a tune.  Restless.

Foot heavy on accelerator.  Glance at speedometer.  Pushing your luck Pal.  Only a matter of time.  And you’ll earn it. (Again.)

Traffic backs up at Stamford exits as morning rush hour builds.

A black Chevrolet pick-up swings into my lane.

The iconic orange, white and black Harley logo on rear window.

Left hand bumper is adorned with a frayed sticker: 1968-1972: Marines. Vietnam Vet.

I stare.

Connecticut Plate 123JAR.

What does JAR stand for? [Read more…]