Between
I’m in no hurry. You know that guy on the highway? You can’t get into the left lane because it’s a swarm of caffeinated speedsters and you’re trapped behind some fool going 5 under. That’s me. Good morning.
I had a friend. Skip. Every time we parted, without fail, he’d say “Take it slow”.
My path to work winds through a cluster of yawning mountains. Just before the sun rises, the top, just the bare tip, of the jagged horizon’s all lit with the glow of a faint orange hum that aches to be something – looks like the mountains are about to have a big idea, like something’s about to happen. You know what I mean? You know that weird feeling you get when something’s about to go down? Your kid is walking with a glass of juice. A man stares too long at a woman’s purse. You take the first drink. Something’s about to happen.
There’s a subtle negotiation between the black sky of last night and the sleepy orange morning waiting for its time. A deep staggering blue, stumbling, confused. Sometimes it’s blood purple. In some vague space between words, it doesn’t know what it is. But it’s not bothered by this. It’s in no hurry.
I may have missed my calling as a cab driver. Can you imagine? I would look in my rear view, check out my passengers, write little stories about their pasts and futures. That guy. He keeps checking his watch and calling someone who doesn’t answer. I’m taking him to a part of town where only a couple things happen. The crying lady. Going to the airport. And those two, kissing, groping, wearing wedding rings that don’t match. Everyone’s going somewhere. They start out here. I take them there. But me? I spend my days in between. Lingering between what just went down and what’s waiting to happen.
People honk their horns. Flip me off. They gotta get what they’re going. But where are they going? Do they even know? Enclosed in their cars, they lip-synch enraged profanities. But I’m in no hurry. I take it slow. I was born. I’m gonna die. And I love this vague space in between.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Reader Comments (51)
Sometimes it's more about the adventure than the destination.
I wish you were MY kids' teacher.
Yeah, I could have said journey, but I didn't. :-)
cool
You make me want to see those mountains in the morning. Beautiful post. I'll try to remember to find something pleasant about my disgusting commute tomorrow, and not flip off the jackhole going too slow.
There are times that one might want to make a comment on a post. Any post. And then there are times when you just want to realize in words the beautiful.
yeah I'm in the mountains too honey, and i really wish you'd get the hell out of the way so I could gain some speed fo that next hill.. Also, why 'vague'?
that wasn't my attempt at ebonics.. "for that"
damn. That last line was magic.
I remember working in the Rockies a million years ago and waking up to that glow on the peaks. If there was snow up there it was even better. Kinda view that puts you in your place.
all i've got is this vague space. who the fuck knows what happens on the other side?
The kid with the glass of juice...you know...you just know.
I'm that guy too! Although I'm going 5 over, and everyone else is going 15 over.
When they cut me off, or ride up my pipe, or lip sync profanities (looking like rockin' heavy metal front-men, veins popping and faces going deep purple) I just give them the thumbs up. It's become a substitute for the bird.
*Honk*honk*SQUEEEEEAL* - thumbs up - yeah fuck you too, self important knuckle dragger - smile on my face. The juxtaposition of gestures and thoughts keep me from escalating. You know, like laying waste to the 7-11 clerk or swindling mechanic or de-limbing exclusive punk asses with a katana.
Thanks for the insight. Good to wade in Skip's wisdom once again as well.
And here's a refresher for the lot o' ya:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5UkuKjjb4oI
Every time I get into a cab I tell a story I'm pretty sure I wouldn't tell anyone else.
Also? comments like the one I just left you, piss me off.
What did that have to do with your blog post? It did, but it didn't.
Now I'm stopping to think again. I prefer drives where I can pull over when the view makes me gasp. And yet, I've taken precious few of those over the past few years. Despite living in a gorgeous part of the world. I'm always in a hurry to get somewhere else. Maybe I should just slow down. Enjoy the scenery. Thanks for the beautiful reminder.
Lovely.
I want to tattoo this post somewhere on me. Wow.
Driving makes me miserable. Like beyond words antsy pants anxious ball of nerves panic attack oh my god I hate driving I hate cars what is that noise am I going to die miserable.
Your way sounds much more pleasant.
I love this...thank-you.
I'm with you, annoying all those people in a hurry to get somewhere they don't want to be. I hate the interstate.
Beautiful post. I like the things you make me think about.
I needed to read this. I'm moving too fast, letting life move ME too fast. It's stupid.
Oh, I love it too. So much. Makes it that much easier for me to fight off the dark days to remember that.
Fantastic post. You definitely have a way with words.
Sometimes, not racing along in life can be pleasurable. I know I've had to learn to slow down and take it all in in order to appreciate what is around me.
Even doing that, I still have a bad habit of going too fast on the freeway.
You've written a truth about me; but lately, I've not been able to enjoy this in-between space.
Instead, I've been wishing I was one of those people that didn't feel so much and think so much about the stories among us--all the stories have been breaking my heart of late.
Your post reminded me that I'm sure, just up ahead, I'll see that same sun you're talking about.
unfortunately, i'm usually full-throttle. all systems a go. i really need to stop and take the time to smell the fumes.
Beautiful. The space right before you get to work is where you can remember who you truly are. After you get there, you're fucked.
Sometimes when I'm on vacation I remind myself to stop and live in the moment. Memorize every single detail. That way when I'm stressed I can pull it out like a well-worn playing card and feel for just a moment- at peace.
Morning is the time for the non-committals, the undecided. It's always been a special space for me... betwixt and between. I hear Devendra singing, "Don't forget that what's to come hasn't come yet." Amen to that.
Didn't Dave Matthews write a song about The Space Between? Different context, but just as glorious . . .
I think I love you. :)
You are an extremely talented writer. It sounds lame every time I start typing this sentence, but you captured something here. You do that again and again.
Having ridden with you, I can't say that I agree that this is how you always drive. Unless you really wanted sushi that day.
Loved it, your style and thoughts are interesting, refreshing.
I'm with you in that slow lane, but sometimes I need reassurance to stay strong and ignore the honkers. I just wish there was more money in rose-smelling, don't you?
I needed to hear that little blurb about where the first drink leads. thanks.
This weblog is being featured on Five Star Friday!
http://www.fivestarfriday.com/2009/09/five-star-fridays-edition-69.html
Yes.
what to do? if i tell you you're cool for penning this i'm a sycophant. if i feign aloofness and refrain from commenting, i'm mysterious and also possibly obvious in what may appear to be my attempt to make you think i'm playing at being aloof. if i fall into the gray space between those two choices, i'm between it. and maybe i care, but maybe i don't.
but maybe i just enjoyed reading this and don't have much to say besides, hey. thanks for bothering to jot this thought down. it was a good thing to jot down.
fuck. i hate fucking comments.
I am slowing down myself, I think it comes with getting older. I'm just not in as much of a hurry anymore. It's a much better way to live, I think, much less stressful anyway.
Although I would rather not be awake to see the sunrise, I have to admit. Not that my children give me much choice, but I am rarely in the right headspace to enjoy it.
a part of me always thought you were my writing homeboy
turns outs you rhyme like me, play with words like me, like yeast like i do
thanks?
meanwhile: this is such a nice sweet thing and I salute you.
"take it slow."
awesome.
i think i have the opposite problem of many people. i notice too much. everything. and it's totally overwhelming, good and bad.
yes. sunday morning and a bhj post. kids still asleep. the sun hittiing the changing leaves against the bluest sky. almost like church and i shout hallelu-jah and oh-man that you are not a cabbie, and that i get to read this and you're still my favorite. inspiring. cheers.
I may have missed my calling as a cab driver. Can you imagine? I would look in my rear view, check out my passengers, write little stories about their pasts and futures.
Just live it vicariously through me BHJ. Yawning mountains are very similar to my tired skyscrapers indeed.
Peace.
"looks like the mountains are about to have a big idea..." Absolutely pissed I didn't come up with that first! Seen that moment. Basked in it. Tried to describe it a thousand times. You win!
This right here is why you are awesome.
Well, hello, Mozart! I am happily hyperventilating, which is decidedly not a slow enterprise: there are entries (plural!) here!
(I get a little excited about words that feed me.)
Also, my driving to work experience this morning was a little different, since the "fucking your wife / Emily Dickinson masturbating" bit popped into my neurons. Traveling 70mph down the gray ribbon among the fields of corn, and the hawk blinking down on me, I guffawed.