Time Surge

It was a major trip, a major moment in his young life, a BIG DECISION. He was going off to start his flight training, and then, if it worked out, begin living his dream life as a commercial aircraft pilot. An unexpected bonus was that he had a girlfriend. He was a good guy, but had never defined his life through love and relationships, except those he had with his family. He knew, from talking with others, and posts and articles read on the web, he had a good family. All loved one another. Sure, there were problems, and they argued, but none of them were killers, addicts, or criminals. All of them were pretty smart. He felt like he was the dumbest. They mostly argued over politics. He and his father were more conservative than his mother and sisters. A liberal like his sisters, but not as liberal, his girlfriend easily plugged into this familial unit. They’d exchanged vows of love, and when he’d been accepted into the flight training school in Texas, she worked it into her plans so she could go with him, and continue her college education.

His planned departure was just nine days away, which was impossibly long. He felt like a kid again, waiting for Christmas morning, so he could open his presents. That was a minimalist impression, because he had all those other activities to take care of to move down there, possessions to cull and purge, good-byes to be said, an apartment to clean, a truck to pack up, and then the long drive. Two thousand plus miles, the drive would take twenty-nine hours. They were diverting to New Mexico for a two-day visit with her father, a Santa Fe artist, and then go on to Austin, Texas.

Then, then, it was suddenly just two days away, and, Jesus, he was frantic with everything that had to be done in that short period. It seemed like every little fucking thing was going wrong. His girlfriend thought she might be pregnant. He couldn’t sleep over that possibility. She’d told him without getting a kit first. Why she’d done it like that was beyond him. She said that she wanted them to do it together because she was scared, and it wasn’t something she should go through by herself. First thing when they could, they went to the stores for an EPT. It was a relief when she came up as not pregnant, but now, there was the worry about why her period was late. He loved her, and he worried about her, but he had plans and dreams, and he worried about them.

Her period began. It was late, and heavier than usual, so there wasn’t a lot of relief. She cramped with pain, and didn’t sleep with worry. Then it was the day to move, to begin the drive. Everything was miraculously done. After saying good-byes to friends, professors, neighbors and co-workers, he looked around his adopted town and said emotional farewells in his mind to the streets, trees, and buildings, as he thought about everything that had happened here. He’d met his girlfriend here. He wondered if he would ever return.

Funny, in the days leading up to his departure, it had first been impossibly slow. Every minute felt like an hour, and every day seemed like a month. Then, time had surged, accelerating like a beam of light. Every minute seemed like a nano, every hour was a second. Days? Forget it; days no longer existed.

But he’d survived the time surge. He’d survived it all. Now it was time to go. Looking down the road, he thought he could see his future, like the Emerald City from the “Wizard of Oz,” out there awaiting his arrival.

He just had to get there.

Today’s Theme Music

One of our personal favorites, Dirty Cello didn’t make it to the OSF Green Show this year. Dirty Cello is Rebecca Roudman. She is now a they, as her husband accompanies her on guitar. As we didn’t see her live this year, I sought a Dirty Cello fix on line.

I posted about her in twenty sixteen with a video of her performing “Rock You Like A Hurricane.” I went with her rendition of Guns N Roses’ “Sweet Child of Mine” for today.

Enjoy.

 

Masquerade

The day was supposed to be a Thursday. That was the word from the calendar, and sources like computers, phones, and Fitbits. Other people asked, agreed, “Yes, today is Thursday.”

He remained unconvinced. The day didn’t feel like a Thursday. It didn’t feel like any proper day. His senses and thinking couldn’t penetrate the mask the day wore to see what day was under it. It definitely wasn’t Thursday. It didn’t seem like Friday or Monday. Distinctive in their feel, he thought he would have known them. Nor did it seem like a holiday behind the mask. Each holiday had its own uniquely cultivated taste and sound. He was certain that a holiday couldn’t be completely and successfully masked against his awareness.

Could it be Sunday behind the mask? It seemed out of character for Sunday. In fact, of all the days, he would expect Thursday to be the one that would pull a prank like this and masquerade as another day. Certainly it wasn’t something Saturday would do; Saturday was too full of itself to pretend to be another day.

An odd idea came to him. He had nothing to tell him it wasn’t Thursday behind the mask. If it was, Thursday was masquerading as itself, but doing a poor job of it.

He considered why that would be, why Thursday would want to pretend it was another day masquerading as itself. Doing a poor job of it would make him distrust everything about the day.

That was it. One of the days was up to something, and the way they were going about it was inculcating distrust in all of them. He looked around the day with sharpening suspicion, wondering which day could be, and what was going to happen. Whichever day it was, it was a cruel, cruel thing the day had done. If a day couldn’t be trusted, what would be next? Gravity? Sunshine? Time? That was all that he needed now.

Looking to the future with dread, he looked to the past with doubt, and stayed wary about the present, certain something else was about to happen, and completely unprepared for what it was going to be.

Today’s Theme Music

An old fave. From an excellent album and nineteen eighty-five, here’s Annie Lennox and the Eurythmics with, “Would I Lie to You?”

I’d come back from Okinawa the year this was released, and was assigned to a mobility unit. We traveled a lot, mostly to Florida, but also Egypt and other parts of the Middle East, and Europe. I’d bought a new Mazda RX-7, and put over fifty thousand miles on it driving to temporary duty locations. The net result of that traveling, I’ve never seen this video until today. It’s, ah, interesting, with the story it told.

Side note: nineteen eighty-five was the year of my first computer. It used CP/M 86, had a tiny green screen, dual floppies, and ran at 4.77 MHz, but it was something. Using WordStar, I’d put it to learn how to write fiction, but mostly, I gamed on it.

Should Be A Bumper Sticker

Got this one from my ‘little’ sister’s FB page. It was on a tee-shirt. Funny how the mother of two boys remains one of my two little sisters, along with her older sister. She’s a grandmother, and remains my little sister.

National Wine Day

 

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