Saturday, September 26, 2009

Same As It Ever Was

I stepped out into the rain and took a deep breath. As I gripped the handle of my shopping cart with one hand, I pulled down the bill of my baseball cap with the other and made a mad sprint for my car. This was the not-so-storybook ending to a craptacular day – standing in the pouring rain in the Wal-Mart parking lot, loading soggy bags into the back of my dirty car on a Friday night. At that very moment, as I watched the distant flash of lightening approaching, thunder rumbling in some town not far from mine, these words consumed my brain with a vengeance…

“And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right? ...Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
My God!...what have I done?”

After the cart was safely returned, I quickly retreated to my car. I was feeling sorry for myself because of my lack of social butterfly-ness. My dance card was empty tonight, and I saw a Disney/Pixar film in my future. I turned on some mood music and sat there for a few moments. My beloved Neko was so kind as to serenade me this rainy night. I pulled away with the sound of a barn full of pianos weaving a tapestry of melancholy in my car. “Don't forget me. Don't forget me. Make it easy, only just for a little while. You know I think about you. Let me know you think about me too.” And I drive.

It’s a dark road, and my night vision leaves much to be desired as I have entered my forties. I move slowly while the pounding rain envelopes my car…and me. Slap, slap, slap, slap - the wipers act as a metronome somehow keeping time with the music. The road is red with the glow of the tail lights in front of me, and green with the glow of go lights from above me. And Patrick Swayze is a romantic movie icon with a mane of hair that any woman would covet. Whoa, how did that creep in here? Sorry, my mind wanders in the dark.

I pull slowly into my garage. It’s okay, now. The drama of the day is soon to be washed away. A cocktail is all but constructed at this point. Pajamas will be donned, and my cares will be temporarily unplugged.

And so it goes - my Friday night ritual. Never underestimate the power of computer animated feature length films, popcorn, and the deep, red wine that swims in my glass.

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