watery glass
shows what’s on the other side
making us linger
with wishes we could be warm
inside
St. Asphalta
Many are familiar with St. Asphalta. Her origins began after motorized transportation such as cars were developed and grew popular. Although her exact heritage and origins are shrouded in exhaust gases, one popular belief attributes her early beginnings to the first automobile accident fatalities.
A benevolent god (she eschews being referred to as ‘goddess’ as an outmoded and unnecessary distinction based on gender), St. Asphalta is most associated with parking. People typically pray to her, sometimes making a sacrifice (such as buying her a beverage, such as coffee or tea) when they need a parking space.
But limiting St. Asphalta to parking overlooks the many ways this modern god can help. Did you know that St. Asphalta’s realms and powers extend beyond mere parking issues? St. Asphalta relates to everything involved with wheeled transportation and their systems, processes, and issues. For example, although you might be walking, St. Asphalta is the god to address when you’re crossing a street. She’s the one who’ll wake the drivers up and drive them to notice you and provide you with the right-of-way.
Likewise, St. Asphalta should be contacted for safety when there’s a traffic accident, or the one to appeal to for help during road construction, congestion, and traffic jams. Appeal to St. Asphalta when you have car troubles such as a flat tire, or your car has been stolen.
She’s a good god to know. Like a car, she doesn’t demand a lot, but she must be given her due. If she’s not given it, then, like a car, she’ll let you down just when you need her most.
Wednesday’s Theme Music
Well, time was up.
Past ‘up’.
I was supposed to have departed the fix about fifteen minutes before, so I was now behind my schedule. Couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop writing. Coffee was gone, butt was uncomfortable, and my sciatic nerve was causing pain issue from being perched on the coffee shop’s new hard chairs. All the signs were aligned, time to go, mo-fo.
But —
Yes. Closing up with a stern order, go now, I packed it all up, strapped on the backpack, and headed into the sunshine. It was doing little good against the wintry air, but it was in the low 40s, a better place to be than, say, single digits that some in Alaska are enduring, and it’s better than Australia’s fires and blazing heat. So, couldn’t complain.
Walking up the hill, the distinctive piano playing of the Moody Blues cover of “Go Now” (1964) arrived in my stream. It’s a wondrous juxtaposition when the thing you’ve been doing, memories of places and events, and what you’re now doing come together in a perfectly mellow mood. I usually need a beer, a glass of wine, cup of coffee, or the toke of a joint to arrive in such a state.
But here I was, just me and the small town, with myself and music in my head, cold in the air, and sunshine on the other side of the valley.
Friday’s Theme Music
Still raining.
Still walking in it.
Still fun — or pleasant — but a little less so than yesterday or the day before.
Smoke was rising from the hillside, leftover from the controlled burns in the watershed the other day. But I thought, yeah, maybe someone set fire to the rain.
So then I was thinking about Adele’s song, “Set Fire to the Rain” (2011), a powerful, powerful song about love, relationships, and re-birth. I (probably like many) enjoy her refrain:
But there’s a side to you that I never knew, never knew
All the things you’d say, they were never true, never true
And the games you’d play, you would always win, always win
That’s what you find as you go through relationships, the pieces that aren’t revealed, whose revelations (when found) fundamentally shift your thoughts (and feelings) about the other, leaving you to ask yourself (as you search), what do I do?
Sometimes you walk on, sometimes you stay, but the relationship has been changed.
Thursday’s Theme Music
It was a rainy night so I started humming the Eurythmics song, “Here Comes the Rain Again” (1983). So sorry they broke up but bands have their own cycles of life, death, and creation.
I enjoyed the construction and sensibilities of these lines in the song:
Here comes the rain again
Falling on my head like a memory
Falling on my head like a new emotion
I want to walk in the open wind
I want to talk like lovers do
want to dive into your ocean
Is it raining with you?
I happened to be walking in the open wind and remembering walking in the rain, alone, something that I enjoy. A sharp cold wind was knifing across my cheeks, and I breathed it all in with joy, satisfaction, and nostalgia. Then the clouds broke and there was that brill full moon, coming on like a spotlight. With clouds skipping past the moon’s surface and the wind quickening, it seemed like the moon sprinted across the sky, a trick of the mind. Clouds closed over the moon, and the rain came again.
Is it raining with you?
Monday’s Theme Music
I always find this song, “Dancing with Myself” by Billy Idol (1980) an exuberant, uplifting song. Sure, it’s a (mildly) cynical statement about being alone in a crowd and preferring your own company over your friends.
My version, of course, is “Writing for Myself”. You know, you write these novels and they go nowhere but storage media or a stack of paper. I was thinking it more in amusement than in dejection; well, there’s nothing to lose and nothing to prove when I’m writing for myself, oh, oh, a-oh.
Saturday Theme Music
I was picking out the clothes to wear this morning when I remembered a 1983 Jackson Browne favorite, “For A Rocker”:
“I got a shirt so unbelievably right, I’m gonna take it out and wear it tonight, for a rocker.”
Only, I sang, “For a walker,” because I was dressing to go walking, and that’s the sort of butthead things that I do. It did set me up for today’s music, an upbeat song that excellent for singing in my head as I walk.
“I’ll tell you something that I have found out, whatever you think life is about, whatever life may hold in store, things will happen that you won’t be ready for.”
Yeah, I think often about how life blindsides me — “I never saw it coming.” Not alone in that, I think. Conversations planned in my head spun away in unimagined ways. I’m trying to be ready for the weather though, checking through rain gear, sunglasses, gloves, tissues, for walking.
“Don’t have to feed them, they don’t eat, they have power supplies in the soles of their feet.”
Well, that’s not me. I eat. No power supplies in my feet, just some callouses. Still a good song.
The Waves
Stressed and blessed
encouraged and discouraged
he’s riding the waves of the day
Angry and numb
frustrated and feeling dumb
she’s riding the waves of the day
cascading and rising
falling and sliding
the waves lift you up and
take you under
man and woman
no matter skin or order
all of us ride the waves of the day
Thursday’s Theme Music
There I was, walking along, dealing with the cesspools of worry and anxiety collecting in my head, happy as a friggin’ lark, when in comes Ben Howard’s song, “The Fear” (2011).
Oh I’ve been worrying,
that my time is a little unclear,
I’ve been worrying,
that I’m losing the ones I hold dear,
I’ve been worrying,
that we all,
live our lives,
in the confines of fear.
Good walking tune for its beat, and it fits today’s partly cloudy, sometimes sunny, chilly, warm, blustery weather that taunts us with fall and worries us about winter.
Whatever.
The Shoe Dream
So, as many of my dreams have taken me in the past, there I am, back in the military after being out for several decades. It’s not a surprising dream sanctuary, and makes sense in many practical ways.
Once again, I’m there, in a command center or command post such as the ones that I spent much of my time. This one has windows, though. That rarely happened. We were often in secure buildings or underground. As with other dreams, I’m trying to put together a uniform, and it’s all messed up, because I’ve been retired from the military for so long. With much joking and laughing, I get it together and get a semblance of an Air Force uniform on. There are others in this situation, so I’m not overly concerned with the bit. We’ve been called up…enough said on that, right? Yeah, my mind’s workings can be pretty transparent.
I’m worried about my shoes, though. They’re on, but they’re not in great shape. Meanwhile, the situation is developing. I’m senior enlisted there, and the experienced command post guy. The commander, a colonel, has arrived. He’s concerned about the sit. I share his concerns. Beyond the windows is a swollen gray ocean active with slow, heavy waves. We’re walking along the command post, looking out the windows, searching for an impending attack from across the water. Lights draw our attention. We watch, and watch, hoping that they’ll resolve into something more than blurry lights in the distance, ready to act if they do.
We begin walking toward the other end of the command post. I’ve been thinking as the commander and I scanned the sea, and I’d developed a sense that something wasn’t right. Maybe we were looking at the problem the wrong way.
Just as I formulate this to myself, I turned to look through another window and see a huge wave. Rising like a movie scene, it’s rushing toward us. As I see it, a young airman shouts a warning about the wave.
I spring into action, giving orders and directions about what to do as people begin running in panic. As they’re panicking and only a few are doing as I say, I take it upon myself to act.
It’s too late. As I realize that the wave is about to hit, I tell everyone to find cover and find cover myself. The wave slams into the building. Coming through windows, the powerful water wrecks the interior.
It’s over in a flash. I survive in good condition because I’d protected myself. My biggest concern is my…shoe.
Yes, I’m upset because my right shoe is coming apart. It’s not shiny and black, as I kept it throughout my mil career, as trained to do, as we all did; it is dull and white. Man, am I exasperated.
But we need to take care of things. It’s clear that we can’t continue operations in the current location. I and two others, a male and female, take off walking for the alternate command post location. We’re walking alongside a parade ground. I’m lamenting about my shoe as I go.
While walking to the alternate location, we start moving faster. The two I’m with cross to the other side of the parade grounds. We engage in an unspoken pseudo-race at fast walking speed. They become distracted with conversation. Seeing that, grinning, I surreptitiously speed ahead. They notice, and start walking faster, almost catching up. The guy starts running, so I do, too. Laughing, we reach the alt at the same time, and wrestle to get through the door first. I win.
Inside the small, old places, we find things that were left behind, like candy, gum, toys, and clothes. I’m amused as I go through some of the stuff and think about how to make it operational as a new operating location.
Holding up a piece of old candy in a weathered wrapper, I say, “I remember leaving this here.”
The dream ends.
Michael Seidel, writer 