Driving I-95 S. But it don’t sing and dance.

5:55 a.m. T.G.I.F.

I flip open the Dark Sky app. 24° F. “Feels like 20°. Light snow falling. Two inches accumulated.”

I flick the page to my other saved locations.

Antigua. 74° F.

Mind drifts. Soft white sand between toes. Gentle waves lap the shore line. Warm breeze sways the fronds on the palm trees, they slap against the trunk. Antigua. Sweep me away to There, Now.

March 1. I’ve had enough of Winter. And need more of Rehman Rahi:

The melting of snow, a soft breeze, a garden in blossom
Be my witness,
O Spring,
dumbstruck, yet we sing.

I crawl down I-95. Red tail lights as far as the eye can see. Highway is heavily salted, frozen slush, ruts, shoulder unplowed. Slippery when wet. Treacherous at this moment. Focus DK, focus.

Sirius playing. 70’s on 7. Neil Diamond, Forever in Blue Jeans. Money talks. But it don’t sing and dance And it don’t walk And long as I can have you here with me. I’d much rather be Forever in blue jeans. Money talks. But it don’t sing and dance…  I’m lip syncing. Head bobbing in rhythm. [Read more…]

Riding Metro North S. With the Glow.

Work.

Mon 6:10 am start. Home at 8:10 pm.

Tues 5:31 am start. Home at 9:12 pm.

Wed 4:43 am start. Home at 9:36 pm.

Thur 4:30 am start. Home at 9:45 pm.

See any patterns here? Any obvious trend lines? [Read more…]

Walking Cross Town. In the Big Apple.

Second train of the morning.

Arrive at Grand Central Station.

Traders, Bankers, Morning Hawks gather at the exit.

Car door slides open and the throng spills out.

I pick up the pace. Heart’s pumping. I’m passing Suits. And accelerating.

I Pass Harvard.

I Pass Yale.

I Pass MIT.

I Pass Lori’s Princeton.

I Pass Stanford.

I Pass Prep School boys from Choate, Exeter. Deerfield Academy.

I’m in front now, shoes tapping on the marble floors, Exit 500 feet ahead.

Boy from a 1 room, 3-grade public classroom in Ootischenia. Graduate of Northern Michigan University.

I step through the double doors to exit Grand Central onto Madison.

20° F wind gust roars down 47th street, eyes flood with water.

New York City! The Big Apple. You made it!

Cold bites, tears flow, and flow. And flow.

Cross walk sign turns.

I’m alone.

In front now.

Not done yet.

Not far enough ahead.

Not yet.


Photo: The city never sleeps, Atelier Olschinsky (via this isn’t happiness)

Driving I-95 S. With Freddie.

Tuesday morning.

Early morning traffic is frictionless, commuters float down I-95 S.

It’s 42° F. It’s January.  Soft, light rain. Electronics somehow (?) sense that the windshield is damp, wipers flap intermittently. Miracle. All of it.

It’s quiet in the cabin.

No radio.

No talk shows.

No podcasts.

No playlists.

The soft hum of the engine. The shifting of the sole of my right shoe on the accelerator.

And, those pernicious bumpin’ Thoughts. [Read more…]

T.G.I.F.: Let’s Go Bert Box


Watch Bird Box on Netflix. (via Your Eyes Blaze Out)

It’s been a long day

Human life is a kind of myopia, everyone walking around, seeing only what’s in front of them, or not even that—passing each other by, embroiled in our little dramas to such an extent that we miss out on everything; making big what is small.

Sheila HetiMotherhood: A Novel (Henry Holt and Co., May 1, 2018)


Notes: Illustration: Owen Gent. Related Posts: It’s been a long day

Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

Just bring a background of depth and meaning to whatever it is I do…
There’s something I can feel in my brain,
like a finger pressing down.

Sheila HetiMotherhood: A Novel (Henry Holt and Co., May 1, 2018)


Photo: 8tracks.com (via Mennyfox55)

T.G.I.F.: It’s been a long week


A man trapped in a grease vent of an abandoned Chinese restaurant in San Lorenzo, Calif. for two days, before being rescued. Authorities say he was possibly trying to burglarize the restaurant. (Alameda County Sheriff’s Office/AP )

It’s been a long day

Sometimes
everything
seems
so
oh, I don’t know.

Joe Brainard, “Poem” from The Collected Writings of Joe Brainard

 


Notes: Poem – Thank you Beth @ Alive on All Channels. Photo by damian hovhannisyan (via see more)

It’s been a long day

On some nights it’s best to stop thinking about the past, and all that’s been won and lost.

On nights like this, just getting into bed, crawling between the clean white sheets, is a great relief.

Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic

 


Notes: Photo – windworkss. Quote – shitiunderline

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