Friday, December 03, 2004
"Tis The Season
My seven year-old jeans have two humungous holes on the knees. There was a time when I felt stylish wearing these dress-down trousers. Owing $40,000 to the I.R.S. and $10,000 in credit card debt, bills being delivered daily by an over-zealous postman, including Sundays, this evening I found myself in the local supermarket pouring all of our saved coins into a Coinstar machine. I like to think of the green, Oprah-shaped wine jug as our retirement fund. We retire approximately every three months. My frayed, worn jeans fit the scene appropriately. I felt like a modern-day Charlie Chaplin tramp. How we must have looked to the market's patrons. On the way out one dropped their change into the jug. Hmmm. [This gave me an idea for a lucrative side-line enterprise.] The kids and I laughed and played while purchasing tonight's pizza dinner. Caleb asked to hold the $117 redeemed for the coins. They each took turns holding the money. Spread the disease, is what I always say. To me it was a $117 dent in the $50,000 tidal wave of debt. To the kids, hell, they felt like millionaires. So did I.
As long as there are convenience stores that are open 24 hours, seven days-a-week, no one is ever alone in this world; not completely.
Life is what happens when you're busy ignoring the plans you make.
I do like chopping wood. I enjoy barbequeing all varieties of eatable meat. I appreciate completing a task, looking back at it and saying to myself with a self-serving gratification, I did that. Not bad. I need a vacation from everything that I know.
The New Hope/Solesbury train chugs back and forth along its 10 mile route, white plumes of smoke trailing and rising like the lacy train of a bridal gown. The enthusiastic engineer sounds the whistle more frequently than a construction worker outside of a modeling agency. The sound is romantic...melancholy...inspirational...and becoming obnoxious.
I love Sra
As long as there are convenience stores that are open 24 hours, seven days-a-week, no one is ever alone in this world; not completely.
Life is what happens when you're busy ignoring the plans you make.
I do like chopping wood. I enjoy barbequeing all varieties of eatable meat. I appreciate completing a task, looking back at it and saying to myself with a self-serving gratification, I did that. Not bad. I need a vacation from everything that I know.
The New Hope/Solesbury train chugs back and forth along its 10 mile route, white plumes of smoke trailing and rising like the lacy train of a bridal gown. The enthusiastic engineer sounds the whistle more frequently than a construction worker outside of a modeling agency. The sound is romantic...melancholy...inspirational...and becoming obnoxious.
I love Sra
