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@ The Post Office

I went to the post office today. It was just after lunch when the post office lady (I think her name is Donna) was retrieving the mail from the authentic looking blue postal collection box just outside of the front door. I walked past her with a nod of my head, as I usually do, but I’m unsure if she saw me.

She was talking with another lady as they traveled together out of the post office. The other woman had a sheaf of envelopes in her hand, of various shapes and sizes, leading me to believe she had just checked her postal box for the day. They were conversing animatedly with each other like they were old friends, so I didn’t interrupt.

As I settled in at the counter to wait for her imminent return another gentleman came in after me. I also nodded at him, as is my wont in situations such as those, and he inclined his head in return. It’s a guy thing. He was an older fellow, with a white beard that didn’t at all remind me of Santa Claus. And even though this is a small town, I don’t believe I had ever seen him before, a rarity that was worth noting at the time, and then later.

We struck up a minimal conversation about the heat in the place, a standard placeholder, while we waited a few moments for Donna to return to the counter. She breezed back in, closing the inner door behind her. A slight whiff of cinnamon followed in her wake. I stood sentinel at the vinyl counter as she came around from the back and settled back into her place. It reminded me of a hairdresser returning to her styling chair, looking slightly out of place until she is standing there again with scissors in her hand. Continue reading “@ The Post Office”

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Imperfect

She was never as perfect As the picture in my head A misplaced photograph That lingers at the edge Threatening to fall Like my tears when she left That unexpected exit Ripped my soul apart As radiant as the sun She blinded me Like night’s wings That ghost of yesterday Fading into memory’s web I … Continue reading Imperfect

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Checked Out: Week 9

I actually haven’t read that much this week, which is a deviation from the normal, but I have been writing quite a bit instead. Don’t worry. I’m getting back to reading over the weekend. I have some good stuff I want to get through. On that note, I’ve been re-reading a few things lately, like … Continue reading Checked Out: Week 9

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Snow Tired

snowstormPlease, allow me to vent for a moment. Now, I’m usually the guy who makes fun of others for getting all worked up over weather, so what happened today was a righteous comeuppance. It doesn’t mean I liked it, but it was definitely righteous. To truly explain I need to take you back to just over two years ago.

It was one of those rare times when I was alone at home, while my wife and kids were in Utica. We were supposed to meet at Applebees for lunch. It had been snowing steadily all morning, but it hadn’t really accumulated on the roads, so it lulled me into a false sense of security. And I was hungry for a Cowboy (Veggie) Burger.

Everything started off well, with my iPod plugged in and playing Guns ‘n Roses. The car handled well on the road, and I was well on my way… until I ran into the drifts. There’s a stretch of road where the winds are strong and they drive the snow over the road in drifts, but I was going along so well that I forgot the drifts were there. Then I was skidding, sliding across the opposite lane in what seemed like slow motion.

I ended up in a ditch that day, but I got lucky that it was shallow enough that the car didn’t turn all the way over, preferring instead to rest on its side. Several good samaritans came to my aid also, helping me out of the car and giving me someplace to rest while I waited for the tow truck, for the police, and for my wife. But since that day anytime the winds pick up in winter I get anxious. Continue reading “Snow Tired”

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Reunion

Check the acid-wash jeans.

My 20 – year high school reunion is next month and I have been reliving some of the highs and lows of the experience. Hard to believe that it has been 20 years since high school. Some days I can almost convince myself I’m still a gangly 15-year-old with acne and a distinct lack of facial hair. Now the facial hair I do have has quite a bit of gray scattered throughout, so when I look in the mirror I can believe it’s been 20 years.

I went back after 15 years, when I was searching for some kind of anchor or foothold I had been missing back then. And I did reconnect with several people I knew, but it was transitory. It wasn’t solid. But this is 20 years. Everyone will be there, and I am at once both elated and frightened over that.

Everyone remembers high school differently. Some recall only the good parts, the “best years of my life” that is often bandied about by middle-aged people who need to relive their glory years, the metaphorical heyday. While others remember the bullying and tears.  Still others reflect on how invisible they felt even in the midst of so many others. I was in this latter group.

Don’t get me wrong. I had a small network of people I would have called friends for lack of a better term, and they were separated into black, white, and other. Not by me, but by them. My black friends were courtesy of my skin color and my sister. My white friends were because we shared the nerd trait. And the others played table tennis with me. Back then those were the lines, but perhaps looking back they were only in my head. Continue reading “Reunion”