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the written word has been a stranger to me, for almost a week. actually, with a few exceptions, those verbal have been kinda scarce, as well. allow me to reconnoiter.... in the past, i've reflected on some rather hairy rides in the deep of night... the absolute last time you wish to ever encounter the unpleasant, the unexpected, the inclement, the imagined. i knew something was up before i left the car park, last Thursday morning. the SAAB was just sounding too good. i was feeling too good, also, and it wasn't a chemical thing. perhaps i'd just hit my stride, finally acclimating to the three days of practical exile. friends at work had unknowingly conspired to lend me piles of music, along with AlGreen's new album i'd bought earlier... delayed gratification, since the nearest CD player was miles away. that should be the inscription on my headstone... "Delayed Gratification." it's becoming a way of life. this all sounds too dramatic. it was certainly no life-or-death situation. just a broken-exhaust-too-rapidly-sinking-gas-gauge situation. either way, i was hyper-alert for blue lights... and the only like blue lights i care for are on the tree during the holiday. rather, i saw nearly no one... and not a soul until i parked safely in my own driveway and climbed the steps. and felt as if i'd aged. knowing that my biggest excitement would be the dentist visit in the distant afternoon, i counted myself lucky. again. sleepily, Yoko was feeling a bit under-the-weather with a gum problem that she'd had fixed (with much coaching), and under the influence of codeine... and with the distance she says she learned from me. unbeknownst, this was to be the theme for the weekend. the older lady she's been caring for is beginning to get that irritable senility syndrome. forgetting things, taking medications on the sly, doing risky maneuvers that get bones broken... which have paid off in a hospital visit. consequently, it's vacation time... and i doubt she's left the house for more than a half-hour all week. i thing she's saving up for another weekend away. business as usual, wouldn't you say? nevertheless, the dentist visit was unexpected. no cavities, a rare cause for celebration, for me. plus, the hygienist had to wait for the doc to take an unbelieving look, so we would up talking for about an hour... about travel, mostly. she, a frequent visitor to England. if the laws on bigamy weren't so stringent, i'd have slipped a ring on her finger. i was in a good mood. anyway... another spark finds its way to the combustibles. from there, i decided to take my good mood to see SlickWillie, and continue the conversation trend... which included more talk about Jamaica... again with the faraway places. I phoned Yoko that i'd be in before long, and finally departed before eight. and the furies awaited me. what wasn't, was a reply to my earlier email to my radio alternate... i wanted to make sure that he remembered that his turn was up. i decided not to worry, and slept on it... after several beers to cut the silence. over the ground spread a mantle of white, in the AM... and still coming down. no email. with my first coffee hitting paydirt in my stomach, i rang his cell... and awakened him... in Richmond. excuses. apologies. no show. good thing i've been at this for eleven years... driving for nearly an hour through snow to the studio with no clue what i was going to play is no cause for panic, anymore. actually, it was cathartic. and beneficial for both of us. MountainRasta called during the program, and we agreed to get the hot sauce thing behind us. we had jerk at the restaurant (a terrific antidote to the cold), talked aplenty, and walked out with a cheque. stopped by Biggles' to get the VargaGirl's presents to her, and grilled her for stories about her trip to England. then home, in the night. to Siberia, to be more exact. bone-chilling cold. nose-hair-freezing cold. outside, too. Saturday brought a trip to the vet for the Speckled Beast, for her last shots. whatever was eating Yoko welled up into a volcanic blast on the way... punctuated with cries of taking her name off of the deed to the property, things like that. unnamed, directionless rants. too cold to escape the house, i tried to calm her down to get to the bottom of the problem... but words, again, fail. especially when they aren't returned. i expected Sunday to be better. it was, when i woke early to make the coffee, feed the cat, and turn on some bluesy, low-volume spirituals on the radio. it continued when i segued to some GoGo... but not long after. she was furious when the pipes in the laundry were temporarily iced, despite the heater. i did some chores, and escaped to the woods, cold or no. scanning the drifts for signs of wildlife... i found signs of deer, bobcat, and bear. not lonely up there. and here i am, again. eighty-four miles away. my application for my birth certificate is in the mail... the last obstacle to the passport. snow predicted for my return, as well as sub-teen temperatures. well, it seems like i found plenty of words, this time. as for the gratification... well, that remains to be delayed. |
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