I tend to get melancholy when I’m tired like this and an expanse of time exists that allows me to think about things I don’t normally have the time to think about, or do take the time to think about in my subconscious during sleep, which is more beneficial because as crazy as it may seem in those moments, it’s a tax rideoff we call dreams, or nightmares.
I reread every post. I guess I’ve been doing this a while, albeit on and off. I miss having 3 jobs.. I seemed like such a jovial fellow back then when I was working so much. How messed up is it that I look at that version of me as someone else? In the third person, even. I didn’t even remember quitting smoking in November. I guess I had nice holidays from what it sounds like. I honestly remember very little of those experiences. Is this what getting old means? How depressing!
So maybe I should describe in better detail and with greater regularity the goings on in my life. I should add that I write these words with a slight hint of paranoia. Maybe my life is just rolling by because I honestly, truly haven’t had many new experiences.. they tend to cost too much.
Let me talk about last weekend.. because it’s a perfect ’soon to be forgotten forever’ moment. Brian told me last Friday that he had bought a new bike for his ride out to Chicago. So last Saturday I picked up his old Diamondback from the Bike shop.. don’t remember the name of it, which frightens me. Maybe this was 2 weekends ago, yes that makes more sense. So it was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and I drove out to Broadview Heights and picked up the bike and stopped at this great coffee shop on Pleasant Valley which turns into Bagley Rd. I stopped at a garage sale afterwards and met this nice older couple.. bought Lee Iaccoca’s bio for old time’s sake - its the book I read in County. The other one, The Secret History - I read in Willoughby. Willoughby’s a nice town that reminds me of Winesburg, Ohio in some ways. Maybe it’s because I was only able to access it via bus, which made it foreign and exotic. Ditto that for Shaker Square, which I only accessed by the rapid.
You ever notice when you ride your bike down a trail and you come upon a small town, you feel as if you’ve discovered a new land? I used to feel that way all the time when I was in my late teens and early twenties and dad would take me out riding, usually when I was more hung over then I’d like to admit. This was back when he lived in the brown apartments downtown by the train. I worried about dad then, being alone there. It was such a depressing place. Dad really loved riding with me. And looking back on it, I really enjoyed it too. Even when we rode out on the hottest day in Chicago history, down the Au Sable trail, 15 miles, and not a soul around. The temps cracked 100 that day. Roe and Gary on the ‘Big 89′ were joking about the number of deaths downtown. I remember both of us listened along while the air conditioner replentished our lifeblood in the front of his red 91 Ford Ranger, which was shiny everywhere except on the hood and top of the cabin, where the chemicals from the soap factory where dad works were slowly eating away at the paint. Marty, who works with dad there as an electrician, and lives across the street from mom’s house, now owns the Red Ranger. I still get a weird bit of emotion seeing it across the street when I visit home.
Oddly, I wrote that last paragraph with the understanding that 2 or 3 years from now I’ll re-read this and remember back. By then maybe mom will have a new place, and the old neighborhood will be circled through only on Thanksgivings when I drive past Auntie Mar’s old house, which will always symbolize Thanksgiving for me. She had the old rustic dining room with the small red flowers criss-crossing up the wallpaper, and the prairie farm silo in the backdrop of harvest beyond the dining room window, near the folding chairs where we kids would sit.. the one’s that made the shhhh.. sigh when you sat on them.
Oddly enough Aunt Mar and Uncle Rich still have that set, and use it.. I saw it on Memorial Day weekend this year, it’s still holding up well enough.
Well, I sat on the row of benches where mom and I sat when she last visited 2 years ago. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long already. I miss her terribly. The last two times she’s visited me in Ohio I’ve been in the In-Between moments. This time, I’m sure, will be different. She’s coming in the weekend of our Staff Picnic at Cedar Point, so we’re going to go. Possibly, her friends (and dad’s) from Canton will go as well.
Growing up we’d visit Bob and Dar in Canton every 2 or 3 years. I remember these occasions only because we’d always leave at like 3 in the morning to drive out to Ohio. Some of my earliest memories are of mom loading up the old yellow LTD wagon and moving us kids to the back where we could sleep. I wonder if mom and dad talked, or if mom slept and dad just drove. Funny that I’m now the one making that drive down I80 coming to Chicago to visit. Irony is everywhere.
But when mom visited I kept telling her we had to go to the Arcade. She didn’t want to go because she thought it was an Arcade in the literal sense, not the old school sense. On the same note, I envision proposing to my bride to be on the promenade in the Arcade above the clock reading ‘Standard Time’. It’s got that melancholy font and feel much like the Renaissance Hotel, and I’m thinking one of my past lives or relatives left something behind that through this generational gap still manages to harken.
There are but a few left in the lobby down in the Marriott, and while outside on the bench I only witnessed 4 drunk twentysomethings and a white Ford escort that had just been pulled over by the cops. Been there, done that.
Just added the word Ford to the above sentence because it could be misconstrued. The latter sentence even more so. I suddenly miss working the cell phone gig, and am resolving myself to call Amy my former boss in the morning and ask for my old job back. I assume this is just an overtired notion, but knowing me I’ll probably follow through.
Arter & Hadden, a staple of the legal scenery here in Cleveland for the last 130 years, is dissolving. Hundreds of people spent what is now yesterday packing up their things and walking out into the great big, scary and darn near freakishly unpredictable economy. And I’m suddenly glad to be here in this moment for those people. Perhaps they’ll come through and sit for a moment’s read through. If this is the case, then let’s gather round together and huddle in a moment together, and I’ll tell you what you already know..
The numbness.. it’s normal. The days will get long, and you may get to a point where you doubt every capability that you ever thought you had. But someone, something will step in. Maybe you’ll take the bull by the horns and keep fighting the fight until you get what you deserve. If so, I’m proud to know you. Even if we never meet. Maybe you’ll fall off, like I did. And maybe fate will step in and bring you somewhere to something and someplace you wouldn’t quite have pictured for yourself. And maybe, just maybe, everything will turn out as it should.
You’ll be walking down the street on a late night just 3 or 4 short years later in an entirely different place, so now familiar that it’s comforting, reliable, and constant. You’re comfort level with yourself, your surroundings and your future will once again be high.
The difference is, though, THIS time, you’ll appreciate it. With every breath in and out, and with every step around these dark corridors where others have long since left, you’ll know that you do and you are all that you can be.
You’ll realize you’re home, and the world is right. If you’re where I’m at you’ll notice the bats that fly listlessly around the tall buildings at this hour. You’ll smell the clean air coming in off the lake, and feel the comforting breeze that finally, in this first day of summer, has begged to provide.
You’ll plan on coming in later this weekend to tie up the loose ends with a thankful attitude that you have these loose, not final ends to tie. Just remember not to burn your fingers whilst ironing Sunday night.
Happy summer everyone. . . have a great weekend. -Jimmy
I’m taking a break and posting this. Time to reflect. Be back in a few.