Somedays I wish I could be anywhere but in my own skin. I wanna be on the other side of that tunnel. Where the road dips down, slides to the right, curves into anywhere but here.
I know whats behind me, 5 minutes ago. 2 minutes. 2 feet. Too far gone, it has steamed its way back up off of the roadway, back out into the clouds.
Alone again with the noise and the miles. The wet, the dry, Out in the mist and disquiet. Wondering where you are, not here with me. If you missed me too.
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The British are Coming!
S u n d a y , A u g u s t 1 3 , 2 0 0 6
...i came upon a young boy riding his bicycle down a rural road. As he heard me coming behind him, he stood up on his pedals, head down, gripping bars tightly, shirt open and trailing in the breeze, and pedaled with everything he had. He raced against the wind. He raced against me. All the while he smiled and laughed that secret laughter of youth. It tickled my heart to know that no matter who crossed that imaginary finish line first, in his mind, he won.
I was there yesterday checking everything out. As a resident, I go unaffected. But, to those who are not residents who have been enjoying free parking for years, is it like squatters rights? Should they still be allowed to park freely? Especially since they have designated motorcycle parking outside of the main lot's parking stalls. If you pay, you should not be corralled anywhere. You should be able to park anywhere you like within the legal parking areas.
And to say that this would address the noise is a bit funny. There are free street spots, free municipal parking in 2 lots. Paying to park doesn't stop people from cruising the main drag and looking for a free parking spot. It keeps them and their loud pipes circling the lots and the blocks looking to park for free.
I played a bit of hookey yesterday, taking a day off from work. It was blazing hot out. 95 in the shade in there wasn't any shade. If one more person tells me its a dry heat, i'm gonna come out swinging. The oven is a dry heat. I'm not hanging out in there without complaining either.
So, anywho - I toodled around Westchester and Dutchess, making my way along to cross over the Hudson on the Newburg Beacon Bridge. Meandering past the Mohonk Mountain House, and eventually into the Catskills by way of some nice and empty roads. Man, this hookey business is great, no one else is on the road in the middle of the day.
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