Monday, April 10, 2006

• Morning Ride-a-long

  The busy highway surrounded me as I contemplated the difference between my morning java and the cellphone that would not shut up.  I have been awake for no more then two hours and the damn thing rings every five seconds with some one from the office asking me where this is or when is John (my boss) suppose to catch his flight.  My coworker and driving companion laughs at how much attention I get, a semi-truck passes me on the inside lane, and here I am still juggling the java - cell phone - and the wheels of my life.  The car has not moved more then a block in the five minutes we have been on the highway.  Stuck in the morning rush hour of my metropolis.  The highway my mecca and the cold barren aspalt my brother.  The dividers between north bound and south bound my sister; the weeds in between the cracks my mother; the blue sky my father.  And the on ramp my birth; the off ramp my death.  Every thing flows accordingly - every thing slowly moves like life.

  The car ahead of me moves forward two feet.  I let my own heavy foot off the brake and move the unneccesary two feet, as well.  Brake lights on and off and on again with each weighted foot pressed upon the soul and master control of our machines.

  I think to myself, 'Why the fuck did any one think they could get away with charging 2.69 for gas?' Obviously I was frustrated with the local gas pump for tried and true effort of destruction upon my bank account - but every one pays for it and allows it to happen - so I am going to be stuck with a guilt trip every time the pump fills the stupid piece of shit that guzzles gas like a frat boy guzzles a keg.

  It took a lot of candor to get out of bed this morning; I spent most of the night sleeplessly frustrated with the way things have gone and how crazy it is about to get.  Georgia, New York, and London... all in a matter of three weeks.  It will not get any better in the months ahead as business travel season picks up and I have to fly back and forth between NYC, LA, and Chicago.  This is not a complaint just a calculation of what may lay ahead.  As much as I am involved with my career I spend restless nights in a battle between what is good and what is bad, the faults of my life, and the few regrets I cherish.  Yes, the few regrets I cherish.  A good night sleep is a rarity to me with my mind in a marathon toward some unknown lonely path.  A path to self discovery.

  Some times I cry, some times I smile, but most of the time I lay there in deep thought with my eyes closed and the demon's parade gallop through my small room.

  Car in front another two feet, repetitive cycle start here.

  And still, here I was in my 2003 Red Ranger with a thought still stuck on the rediculous gas prices and my poor bank account.  When I was sixteen (which was not that long ago) I remember my first gas tank fill up at $15 and gas at .95 cents a gallon - cursing at how much that was and hopeful that it would never go over a dollar.  How innocent that beautiful junebug summer was; perfect skies and uncharted territories begged for attention from me, and I could only dream of what the real life would be.

  Another two feet.

  I glance over at my coworker, who has lost himself in his PDA with some trivial matters, and he glances up at me and smiles.  I hesistantly smile back; unsure of myself and unsure I can commit the same sincere smile back.  I can not help but think that he probably hates me because we are different.  My am young he is older; I am a graduate he is a drop out; I am a dreamer and he is a realist; mind over matter.  I spend most of my time able to direct his path in the corporate realm like a cowboy and his horse.  I might be twenty three but I have the ability to manipulate the currents of change.  He goes back to the written words on his PDA.

  Another two feet.

  My java wasted cold in my hands because I was too slow to drink it when the alaskian jumbican loola coffee bean was warm - basically wasting my overpriced coffee of gradification for my caffiene addictions.  I admit it - I like to drink dirt - but only when I have nights like I had the last and my body does not want to participate with the rest of the world.  Yet I have become one with the world - as negetively as I want to deny it and I breath a sigh.  A heavy sigh.  One that is not suppose to be wasted on such a young person like me.  Some one my age is not suppose to experience the things that I have experienced - the battle scars shown through my bruised eyes.  My lips chapped with pain and sorrow behind a wall of fake smiles and impressionable heart felt hellos.  My hands worn tough and callused.  But my eyes - so dark and full of envy, pain, and sorrow.  If you look hard enough into them you can see it but only a few have really known those eyes.  The eyes of scary things and improbable dreams.  Of unknown failure and frustration; all covered with a sense of beauty and happiness.

  The song, Behind Blue Eyes plays on the radio, and I hum what I know - if I know any thing at all.  Maybe ten feet now.

  I glance into the car next to me and I see a mother and child.  The mother so beautiful, dressed in her corporate attire, and the baby doll girl such an amazing thing.  Probably on there way to day care and then work... or maybe on her way to see her daddy who is in the hospital, or maybe they are just on a drive to the market.  Who knows.  But how much I would pay to be that innocent and carefree - how much I would pay to have a little trouble maker of my own - how much I would pay to feel that much love for some thing - God would I ever.

  My companion for the highway of life asked, "Gosh, this traffic is awful, isn't it Bri?"

  I chuckle.  The thought that my life is a big traffic jam makes me laugh harder.  I almost fill the car with laughter.  I laugh so hard it hurts.  And then I look over at him and smile and say, "Yeah, it really is."

  He says, "Well why don't we take this ramp off and try a different way?"

  Man, my companion is hitting it right on the nose today.  Take that nail right into that coffin, my friend.  "I suppose so, but then where?"  I ask.

  "Well - like in all things in life - you are not going to get any where just sticking in one spot are you?"  "No, probably not."  "Then why not just let life take you where ever its suppose to go?"  "Ok."

  I smiled suspectedly.  Unsure of what reality lay out there.  But I wanted or needed something new.  And so I took the exit from my previous life and onto my future life.  I left behind what I could and begin anew.  I told myself, in this moment of self revelations and empowerment, that it will be ok.

  And I took Exit 11 B from 494 on to Highway 62/212, and way lead on to way... that has made all the difference.

  
  Bri

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