Wheels, Eyes, Clocks

So here we are officially in summer. What does that mean for me? Driving hell. Many of you know that I am in the NY Metro area. Fridays after work is a madcap free-for-all with people getting the hell out of the city, heading for the Jersey Shore. People from Manhatta, Brooklyn, the Bronx, Connecticut, Westchester - all have to converge on MY route home. A 37-mile trip took over two hours last night.

I grow weary of this. I have been putting up with it for nearly five years.

The traffic starts, crawls, stops. Starts again, inches, stops.

sigh

So what do I do to make the most of it? Well I have an idea. I am thinking of more photography of other people in their cars - some candid, some not, and making a Drive-by blog of photos I take. But I am hoping for some feedback here about that idea, what you folks think. I thought perhaps if I do that, I should get a little sign that says "see you on pdhski.blogspot.com" so they know what the hell it is I'm doing.

Or is that just too weird like everything else I think up??

(poll removed as it was broken)

Song For The Lost Souls

The departed, the tired, the weak - are you listening? You know who you are.

Foo Fighters - Best Of You
I’ve got another confession to make
I’m your fool
Everyone’s got their chains to break
Holdin’ you

Were you born to resist or be abused?
Is someone getting the best,
the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best,
the best, the best, the best of you?

Are you gone and onto someone new?
I needed somewhere to hang my head
Without your noose
You gave me something that I didn’t have
But had no use
I was too weak to give in
Too strong to lose
My heart is under arrest again
But I break loose
My head is giving me life or death
But I can’t choose
I swear I’ll never give in
I refuse

Is someone getting the best,
the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best,
the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best,
the best, the best, the best of you?
Oh...

Oh...Oh...Oh...Oh...

Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
The life, the love
You die to heal
The hope that starts
The broken hearts
You trust, you must
Confess

Is someone getting the best,
the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best,
the best, the best, the best of you?

I’ve got another confession my friend
I’m no fool
I’m getting tired of starting again
Somewhere new

Were you born to resist or be abused?
I swear I’ll never give in
I refuse

Is someone getting the best,
the best, the best, the best of you?
Is someone getting the best,
the best, the best, the best of you?
Has someone taken your faith?
Its real, the pain you feel
You trust, you must
Confess
Is someone getting the best,
the best, the best, the best of you?
Oh...

Warm Fuzzies and The Cold Hard Truth

Is love is hard to come by these days? Is there a shortage of memebrship forms for the Mutual Admiration society? I'm not sure what it is, but the abundance of free samples and risk-free trials found easily in my youth have all but vanished.

When this was pointed out to a former attachment of mine known to be more matter-of-fact and less sympathetic, she offered "well, you know you're really not as good looking as you think you are..." I still don't know how to respond to that one.

So things don't get easier as you get older. The wiser and more experienced you get, the pickier you become (or, other people become, it would seem.) And this is not necessarily a bad thing, but rather an observation and statement of truth. You know what you want, but are less inclined to spend yourself waiting/looking for it. I think at this point people assume they know more from the start where things will go.

Being an idealist/romantic in this environment is a dual-edged sword. There is always hope that something will happen someday. Yet, there is frustration over the same-old song that refrains "not this time, not this time. But I sing a different song:

Fairground Attraction - Hallelujah

the lights on the westway go on
a million cars hurry home
an ice cream van shuts off its tinsel bells
winter won’t be long

I see you every day
I watch as you walk down this way
we pass on the stairs of this council block
too shy to find words to say

but your smile is a prayer that prays for love
and your heart is a kite that longs to fly
hallelujah here I am
let’s cut the strings tonight

so meet me on the corner at eight
let’s get out of this place
we’ll kiss the first of a million kisses
and let the past fall away

for your smile is a prayer that prays for love
and your heart is a kite that longs to fly
hallelujah here I am
let’s cut the strings tonight

Buzz @ 9:40

So the kids are asleep, tucked into their beds, the door is locked, and I've had two glasses of Chardonnay.

Life is good, and I am feeling the love. Or the Chardonnay at least. Shout out to the winery.

I haven't drank much the last year. I cut way back. I think a lot of that had to do with things I went through in the past year. And not drinking certainly hasn't been anything terrible. I should say that I don't miss it, least of all the cheap beer headaches after softball losses.

So my beer muscles are gone and I am a lightweight again. That's fine. Makes me a cheap date. And while I enjoy having a drink, I won't ever again feel that I have to or that I should. Oh - did I mention that my dad was an alcoholic? Yeah, nothing to be proud of. Maybe it took this long to finally say "I am never going to be what he was."

You May Already Be A Winner

Sometimes when you get knocked down, it is too easy to wallow in your misery. Sometimes it is well deserved and even preferable to facing up to everything else going on. Sometimes you need a dose of reality, no matter how harsh it may be, even at the risk of bringing you down further. It is at moments like this when you have to own up to the fact that things are pretty darn good, and for the most part, we already are pretty lucky to have all we do.

My friends mean a lot to me. The ones that have become a big part of my life know this, and know there's nothing I won't do for them. So maybe I am not always going to go the right route with trying to help them, but my heart is in the right place, and despite the detours we end up in the right place.

Then there are the friends that you can't do anything for. The ones that you know need help but close themselves off. The ones that distance themselves from you and the rest of the world. Frustrating? Heartbreaking? You bet. But you know what the reality is. And you've made it well known that you are always there for them.

I've been through a lot lately, and my friends have helped me through. Their love and the love I have for them only grows stronger each day. In this way I know just how lucky I am - even for the friends that I may have lost. Why? Because I had an opportunity and I made the most of it and gave of myself to someone else. And I'd do it again.

So It Wasn't The Sprain, It Was The Saw Mill

Like I shouldn't have seen something coming, but this time pacing myself wouldn't have helped. Or maybe it would have? It seemed that I ended up getting bitchslapped my mother nature, and not much you can do there.

Ok, for you nonmetro folks the Sprain Brook Parkway and Saw Mill River Parkway are among two of the undersized, overcrowded parkways feeding through lower Westchester County into NYC. I take the Saw Mill into Yonkers on my daily commute. Yesterday as I exited from the NYS Thruway onto the Saw Mill, a torrential downpour unleashed itself. Within a matter of minutes, conditions were horrible with blinding rain pelting the windshield quicker than the wipers could keep up. The road began a downhill descent. It was at that moment I felt the drift, and knew I was quite fu*cked. No downshifting, brake pumping, wheel turning, or shouting diverted my Altima from its impending course with the center guardrail. And with a mighty BANG! I pinballed back into the lane, with steering control returned to me.

No airbag deployment, no funny sounds or scrapig/clumping/thudding. It was still pouring so I threw the four-ways on and got to the right lane, turned the radio off, and limped along into work. Despite the steady rain and wiper rhythm, there was a silence that wrapped me up like a big down comforter. Adrenaline buzz.

By the time I got to work, I had been through the eomtional rollercoaster: scared, relieved, near-crying, suddenly tired, and then shaky. I hesitated to get out and look. And this is where you'd expect a picture - but I'm embarrassed to put one up. I got damn lucky. One little buckle in the front quarter, one small dent in the door, and some stripey-scrapes down the side that don't really stand out, You do sort of have to look closely.

So should I buy a lottery ticket since I am such a lucky guy, or don't bother since all my luck has been used up?

After The Long Romeo Void

I have to look at the positive, and remind myself that the flipside of the "it is what it is" coin says "never say never." I'm not sure exactly what that means - perhaps that while some things are destined to be, sometimes you just never can tell. And that makes life just SO much simpler now, doesn't it? And this doesn't refer to anyone or anything. It's just one of the observations I've made about life.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Yes I am back after another prolonged absence. I appreciate your patience.

Here's a confession for those who don't already know: I write daily for work as part of my job. Sometimes I get sick of words. The words I have to write suck all the nice thoughts about words I want to write right out of my head. I find it difficult to locate inspiration when I slip into that rut. Niggling little complaints I have to respond to in an oh-so-nice way, cursing under my breath the whole time. It's not unhealthy, just unproductive for someone who likes to write these entries and share bits of my life and myself with you.

Tonight's inspiration? Mozzarella cheese sticks. With ketchup. Yes it's not a healthy thing, and with the ketchup, I know a lot of you are sticking your tongue out and wondering if I am one of those boors that puts ketchup on everything. No, I am not a ketchup junkie. Somehow it happened to be available one night for the cheese sticks and it just worked for me. What can I say? A tasty treat and guilty pleasure. Yes nothing quite like breaded & fried cheese to get the heart in tip-top shape.

But I will give due credit to mozzarella cheese sticks tonight, as they may just have kickstarted this blog once again. Why, I even feel motivated enough to fire up a batch of mint iced tea. Who knows where else this will lead?

OK - I better pace myself or I am bound to sprain something, or worse, be all kinds of sore and tight tomorrow. I missed doing this and I am glad to be back again.