I’d bitch about it being Sunday night and the start of another week, but most of my days look the same. Today was Easter – a holiday I haven’t really celebrated in years. I’m not a particularly religious person. Though I’ve become more spiritual over the past year or so.
For me, the day was incredibly slow and unproductive. We had some strong storms roll through last night and most of the day today. The thunder shook the building and made for a fitful night of sleep. Much of the day, I just couldn’t settle in to anything. I didn’t feel like starting a new book or reading much poetry. I worked a little on some of my stuff and posted a new poem – not sure how I feel about it (don’t think it’s one of my better ones). I played around with the mental image of a couple on a lake rowing a boat. Both are giving it their all, but because he’s stronger, they end up going in circles. He can’t ask her for more, and needs to learn to let up a bit. I didn’t really do anything with it – maybe I’ll try to turn it in to something.
Tonight, as I got in to bed, I decided I should probably force the issue and try to journal or write something. I started to scroll through the notes on my phone – I jot a lot of different things down. Since none of them are really inspiring new writing (though they might make they’re way in to something), I’ll copy some of them here in this post. My editorializing about what’s going on or the context will be in brackets [].
October 8, 2019
She had an art show walk.
Ambiance of density
[I was out to dinner with my friend Voda, we were at the bar of a stuffy restaurant. I was thinking about the art festival I had attended in Doylestown and how this woman walked slowly taking it all in…. it made me think of how my ex-fiancee walked when we would go shopping – as if she was in a gallery looking at paintings. I was sharing this with Voda, and then, in trying to describe the stuffiness of the bar I said it had an ambiance of density – he insisted I write that down.]
October 10, 2019
Self-important bossy woman gives career advice to a friend
Early to the bar, she asked what type of whisky they had. She didn’t like the smoky kinds.
Here’s what you’re going to do. Make a plan and execute. Don’t say I think, find out. You know how to do this.
She works in marketing.
[This was also from the night I was out with Voda. The first line pretty much says it all. The recipient of the advice seemed both shy and maybe a bit reluctant. She was well put together, and seemed more than capable to move forward without the “coaching”.]
September 5, 2019
I don’t like the way my belly jiggles as the plane takes off. We both knew we had a little extra in that area. Some wiggle room. We called it our butter cookies or sometimes our butterkutchen, a delicious cake we had at a small bakery cafe in Baltimore. Rich and buttery and wonderful. A delight of a discovery … the actualization of the sweet life we both craved. Adventure and urban exploration. Friskiness in making fun of our bodily soft spots. Of course it turned out to be short lived. The things with the most promise always crash and burn. I fly alone now.
[I was flying out to St. Louis for a job interview with United Way. For a while, flying always reminded me of the trip out to San Diego… St. Louis was a third-round interview, so I was feeling pretty confident about the job. I even spent a day with a realtor looking at houses. Just before the interview, I felt something in my jacket pocket – it was a picture of my ex-fiancee, B, and I at a fundraiser (it was the last time I had worn that suit jacket). It knocked the wind out of me for a few seconds. Pretty sure the butterkuchin was something we ate in D.C.]
August 24, 2019
In town at a honky tonk on Broadway and the band breaks in to allstar.
[I was in Nashville for the weekend (was the only flight I could get on short notice) – interviewing in Jackson, TN and down here in Memphis (a lot of driving, glad I could schedule both in a day). I jotted down that the band started playing the song “Allstar” – a terribly annoying song that I would sing when B and I went for runs together – I’d tell her she was an allstar, and then break in to the song. “Hey now, you’re an allstar”]
July 8, 2019
Asheville: A City of Lost and Wandering Souls
“She calls me Acorn (Ice Age).” Richard. He just wanted to meet people who appreciate guys like him. He’s in love with a nurse who is still married. I saw their texts. He likes her more than she likes him. They have a weird relationship. She calls him acorn, she’s the squirrel always trying to hold on.
He talked about home… his mother said until he finds what he’s looking for, he’s gonna bounce from place to place.
I went to the same bar and every night I met a new stranger. People passing through, like I did once. I told my story. How in love we were. I showed pictures. We looked so happy.
[I took a road trip through North Carolina. I had job interviews in Hendersonville (near Asheville), Winston-Salem, Greensboro, a video interview with St. Louis, and I swung through Charlotte. In Asheville, I was surprised by the number of young homeless people there were, but also by this sense that a lot of people were from other places and just kinda landed in Asheville. I went to a small hole in the wall bar to listen to an open mic night. I sat next to a disabled vet named Richard. He was dark-skinned, a few years older than me, with a Spanish / Latin accent (I never know the PC phrasing). He was injured by an explosive device (RPG, grenade, landmine) while in South America (or maybe it was the Middle East). He walked with a cane that fell a few times as we sat there. He lost chunks of his leg and had multiple surgeries. He used to be strung out on drugs, but is clean now. The bar served beer in 16 and 22 ounce mugs, Richard drank several 22 ounce mugs of a light beer. He was trying to start a nonprofit to help other vets. He told me his story about his woman – the nurse who calls him acorn. I told him mine. We shared pictures of the women we were crazy about. The last paragraph was me envisioning a story in which the main character goes to the same bar every night (or every week) and tells his story to a new stranger each time – it was an absurdist play on a song lyric “last night I told a stranger all about you” in which last night happens over and over and over again. Most of the musicians at the open mic were decent, but one guy stood out. I took a short video.]
I had forgotten about Richard. I suppose that’s why I jot notes down. When he found out what I did for a living (fundraising), he was certain that god put me in his path that night. I gave him my card, but never heard from him.
At the start of this blog post, I said there wasn’t anything inspiring in the notes…. and then I rediscovered Richard.