Stream of Concientiousness

In addition to this public and my private journal I also keep what I call a poetry journal. Not that what I write is any good as poetry, it's just a place where I can express my thoughts without the need of a narrative thread. I experimented with the format here for a bit. It didn't work out. There's usually an image or two in an entry that I like, but the whole breaks down, and if I get political then the results are just silly. Every once in awhile a little gem emerges so, without trying to win any literary prizes I may share them with you. Here's one from a couple of days ago that I kind of like:

Sure, I'll remember, like
I remember the way
to an abandoned factory where
all the machines are silent.
It was easy to follow the grade of the
old road untill the wash out.
Leaves blow through the broken windows.
But I do remember, I remember
the barn swallows cavorting in
the dim heights,
I just can't picture you there anymore.

The coffee filters are almost gone again,
can that many mornings have passed already?

Follow the Footpaths

 

The windows aglow with a soft grey light barely revealing the outlines of the furniture. Ouch, stubbed my toe (not). I prefer not to use the electricity in the presence of such beauty.

That was before the time change. My internal clock still wakes me an hour early, as does my cat, wanting food, and my regularity. I turn over in bed and await the alarm. The light is broad again before ever I arise.

This morning I had an appointment, on my day off, and rose well before dawn. There was only moonlight as I stoked the fire, then the orange light of the open wood stove flickering off the walls and reflected full on in the computer's blank screen; later dawn sneaking quietly on rosy tipped fingers, or whatever Homer said.

The leaves are mostly gone, the branches bare. Following Dolan Ridge toward town the vista over the Beanblossom is once again revealed. Oh was it fine this morning with frost edging everything close at hand like some digital trick and the melting rays of the sun only half way up the western hills. There was fog hanging low over Wylie Road, my secret backwater.

It has been a magnificent autumn, but this too shall pass.

I had to take my car in. I came really close to buying a new or late model vehicle. I mean, I make a median income, I ought to be able to afford a car, right? Well, on paper I could, but even now there are weeks that I struggle through. I chickened out. It's probably a good thing. The I Ching thinks so, even though I got a changing line that I'd never seen before. It said something like: the sage stands ready with many rags to plug the holes in his boat. This was when I asked about keeping the old vehicle. The prognosis was much worse for buying new though: Stagnation.

So I dropped the car off on the Northwest side and took off walking toward the South side where the cheap car rentals are (of course I could have taken a cab, silly). There was still frost in the shadows at first. I know Bloomington so much better now. Leaving aside the details let me just say that I am no longer a youngster. Trespassing derelict properties because they're interesting would be a lot harder to explain now, not that that stopped me. And here's a tip that I knew, but had forgotten: when you're on foot, follow the footpaths.

That's not exactly true, I recognized the short cut across 37, "the brutal highway," but it went up a pretty steep embankment and I wasn't entirely sure. I might have saved myself a step or two, no matter.

I visited some old haunts along the way. I once lived right across 5th street from Rose Hill Cemetery, nearly thirty years ago. I was looking for Hoagy Carmichael's grave. They've put a new headstone and I couldn't find it. "I thought it was here..." I was just about to leave when I saw the bottle of Crown Royal. I dug the rose out from under the fallen leaves.

I (we) am so blessed to live in such a wonderful place. Multiple adventures latter, involving graffiti art, solar panels, flying fish, and more, and after lunch at a local micro brewery I headed south on the "B-line," a Rails to Trails pedestrian thoroughfare. I knew that there was no way over the "Jordan River" past Grimes but I kept going because I have some old friends who live down that way.

It was the middle of the day and I didn't expect anyone to be home. I stopped first at the son's apartment at the bottom of the stairs. I knocked and called his name. No movement. It's a small apartment so I climbed the stairs to the Stepfather's apartment. Again no answer. Just as I was turning to leave the door at the bottom of the stairs opened. As we were saying "Hey, hey!" the door at the top of the stairs opened. All of a sudden it's a party!

But this too shall pass. I axed if there was a way over the creek short of Country Club and was told about the "Old Bridges." That's what I'm saying, "I know Bloomington so much better now." I'm saying, "follow the footpaths." I'm saying, "Rock On!"

 

Whole Cloth

 

I'm at a loss for words. Just a moment ago I was so clever, so to the point. I remember that I'd declared the not too hidden fact that I'm depressed. Not so that I'd want to end it all, except slowly. Three times under. There was something else, I can't remember what, then the words of my friend Mary, "You're the only one who can change it."

I quipped the memory of her remark, and that's what I can't recall; I was so clever, so to the point.

Godess I'm depressed. Self medicated (i.e. drunk, on the weekends anyway). I got onto facebook drunk. Oops.

I mean, the level of discourse is not. One of my co-workers came into a little gathering in the office and declared that the protesters on Wall Street are being paid by Obama. He was serious. He'd heard it on the internet. Is there some misconstured kernel of truth there or was this fashioned of whole cloth? Does such a distinction even matter?

The Autumn progesses beautifully. I saw my first bare tree this evening, its bronchial structure displayed like spilt ink across the sunset. I've got my poplar stacked and covered and my neighbor said he told some tree hound to get lost so that I could cut up his fallen hickory. I guess I'll be warm even if the electricity fails this winter.

Yeah, I know the truth. It may be beautiful, but it ain't pretty.

 

I Daresay

 

This goes beyond neglect. I daresay I have no regular readers left. Not that I could blame you. It's been a long time since I've had anything truly interesting to share. Should I go back out on the road again? Banish the thought!

Wednesday last was a grey day, constant drizzle punctuated by the occasional downpour. The city is grey, punctuated by neon. How indistinct; I realize how much we rely upon light and shadow to structure our world, all the time imagining everything to be so clear.

Overcast and rain makes the city dissappear; not so the autumn woods. The muted colors glow, take on new life. I get frustrated with the tourists clogging up the roads, rubbernecking the leaves. I guess I can share. I feel sorry for the welfare mothers though, the ones who couldn't afford the petrol to come down here even if they had a car. Occupy Brown County! (That's not a racial slur; Brown County is the autumn tourist destination in Southern Indiana, with colors equal to New England's.)

It's not grey now. The sun is bright, filling my living room with the moving shadows of the leaves still on the trees, and there are many. It's just now approaching peak. (Who among thee remembers peaking on LSD?) I work too much, too long. I pay a heavy price to earn a living, yet I am blessed. Yes dear reader, I neglect you. Another Lotus Festival has come and gone. Last night I attended Carrie Newcommer's CD release concert at the Buskirk-Chumley theatre.

Everything is Everywhere.

 

Chiropractor, Heal Thyself!

 

It was the kind of pain that turns your stomach, that beads your brow with sweat. I'd jumped out of bed without realizing anything was wrong; now I was hobbling around the living room saying, "Oh shit" over and over. "Oh shit, this sucks, I don't think I can make it to work today. Oh shit." I called my chiropractor but his office was closed till Wednesday. "Oh shit, fuck!"

I'd been experiencing some lower back pain since Saturday, after I'd cut up some downed trees in the back yard and hauled the wood up to be split. The pain was low level and I'd hoped it would simply work itself out. Then Sunday my buddy brought his splitter over. He ran the machine while I fed it. I could tell it wasn't the best for my back, but it didn't feel like I was doing any more damage, nor was I in any more pain after than before. I even went to work that evening.

Monday morning was when I got slammed. I recognized this pain. I'd had it before, after cutting wood once years ago; duh. I forced myself to eat a little dry toast, swallowed massive amounts of ibuprofen, did stretches and hobbled around for about half an hour. "Oh shit, oh shit." I started to feel better and headed for Indianapolis thinking maybe my boss would know of a chiropractor close by so that I could get cracked and then keep cracking. I can't afford to lose work.

By the time that I got there the pain was manageable and I figured I'd wait till Friday to seek help, my day off. It was a busy day. I was climbing in and out of the tractor continually, dropping trailers, hooking to trailers. Lo and behold come evening time I was feeling good; not just better, really fucking good, like that ambrosial peace that descends on one after an intense migraine has departed.

"The morning will be the test," I figured, "after a night of inactivity." When morning came I was still good. I'm healed, thank the Goddess!

 

Hot Damn

 

Hot again. I was going to remove the air conditioner from my bedroom window this weekend. It's Labor Day, summer's over, right? I've already missed some beautiful sleeping weather where I had to have the AC on low, or the fan going just to give the air a semblance of freshness because I couldn't open the window. But it's hot again. Exactly why I left the job undone.

It has been lovely lately. I've been enjoying the mornings especially, when I wake up and the temps are cool (I've pulled out a long sleeve shirt) and the humidity low. Autumn is definitely on it's way; I've even seen some early color in the leaves, and the flocking of birds. I miss the geese back at Electrolux, but I'm sure they're doing fine.

There's no such thing as a pond at the warehouse that I work out of now. A mudhole yes, even after the scant rain that we've had. I never knew that I had it so good. I used to hook to one trailer and drag that around to several stops. Now I have to hook to a new trailer at every stop I visit. It's a lot of work. I don't have to move the appliances around anymore, but once I'd learned the technique that wasn't really so hard. I counted it as exercise and I suppose I should do the same about climbing in and out of the tractor and dollying the landing gear up and down all the time.

The people are OK; no, they're good. I like my new Fleet Manager better than my last, by far. I always thought that he was slimy, but harmless; just dong the best he could with less than a full deck. Now that he's screwed up my vacation pay so badly I have to wonder if he's really that dumb, or is he actually malicious? I'm going to enlist his help to try and at least salvage what I'm due. We'll see if he steps up.

All in all the new job seems a loss. The first paycheck, sans erroneous vacation inflation seems good so it may even out. It'll certainly improve once I learn the peculiarities of the different customers and can get in and out more quickly. It's already getting better in that respect.

Overall, though, it's more work. It's only seven miles further than my last job but the quality of those miles (traffic) increases both the travel time and the fuel mileage. That will ease too, once the construction at the junction of IN 37 and I 465 is completed. I think it's do-able.

I had a fairly early day once, where I didn't have to rush home so that I could arrive at bedtime if I wanted eight hours sleep and still needed to both relax and eat (and they admonish us not to eat just before bed!). I stopped at the liquor store on the way and bought a six pack (shh, don't tell anyone) and jumped off the four lane onto Old 37 through the forest so that I could begin my relaxation earlier.

Can you believe it, the road was closed for some more of that drainage work they were doing awhile ago, only this time they didn't even bother to put up a sign!? I thought about taking Brummets Creek back over to 37 but Farr Road was before that. I couldn't recall the way, but I did remember that if you made a wrong turn it was a fur piece so I brandished my smart phone and looked at the map. It was a way awesome drive but I still ended up making a wrong turn and had to backtrack to Old 37. I'd been hoping that I could go out on the bicycle, something I used to do after work in the old days, but these "mountain" roads are dangerous in the twilight.

Still, it seemed to me that if I got the route down it really wouldn't be much longer to cut across country than to go up the highway. It would certainly be much more beautiful. But I dismissed the idea; I didn't think I'd ever get the chance to explore the back route in the daytime again, let alone ride my bike after work.

See how wrong you can be? I not only got to explore the cross country route again (oops, I missed Miller road and had to go up Shiloh) but got home in time to take a bike ride before the twilight, but after rush hour. I'm pretty sure that is a rare occurrence.

I get the feeling that my new boss is testing me, trying to decide where I fit in on the work spectrum. I'll have some intensely hard days, and then a really easy one. Like a true Taoist I embrace them all equally. I don't know what to tell the dude. I'm a hard worker, and will only call in the Calvary in desperation, and desperately need to make money. On the other hand I need time to release the pressure valves, so I'll take either.

 

Sun Rise, Sun Set

I've been looking for the upside, the silver lining. Morning light is surely a part of that. It's light when my alarm goes off now. Indeed, most people are already at work at 0800. But then, as I clatter around with the coffee things and feed the cat the sun breaches the top of the trees and paints the western wall of the kitchen yellow. I know that will change as we sink into winter, but for now it's nice.

Hey, and at least it's dark when I go to bed! I still have to keep a blanket over the window though, or I'd probably wake up too early. I need my rest, what I can get of it.

Let's see...The flat, pebble strewn roofs of a warehouse complex make a nice pattern of foreshortened parallelograms as I climb the ramp onto I-70 westbound into the city, if I'm going that way.

I'm learning new parts of Indiana, and of Indianapolis. Perhaps for the first time ever I realize that Indianapolis is truly an American city, in the 21st century. It always sort of seemed like a really big small town before. I'm exaggerating, but there's some truth in it.

I got my first paycheck this morning and said, "Hot damn! I'm liking this!" but it turned out to be a mistake. I had two vacation days coming that I was going to lose. I only got to take one as a day off but was supposed to be paid for both. Somehow or other it seems they paid me for two weeks out of my new roster instead of two days out of the old. I'd like to keep it but I think I'd rather get the vacation time. Plus I got taxed at a much higher rate, I can't afford to lessen the deficit all by myself. No, the verdict is still out on the pay.

I don't get to watch the sun rise every morning anymore, but I do get to see it set at night. That's not an upside , it's not the same. I will say this though: when I get home at night I can appreciate the stars for real. I used to always look up as I left the house, and again at certain points along the road, but I was in a hurry, on my way to work. Now I'm coming home from work, in relaxation mode, and to top it off the sky is clearer at night, without the mists of morning. The Milky Way is awesome!

Oh, didn't I tell you? My very first day back from vacation we had a meeting at work. They wanted to tell us that Electrolux was moving its operation up to Chicago Land before we heard it though rumor. Still I was the only one who didn't already know, since I'd been gone. My job would end by October. Welcome back!

They said I could always go back out over the road, or regional but I refused. "I want to go home every night!" They promised that if something opened up we'd get first pick. I was stressed. I knew that I'd be able to get another driving job, but would I like it? And as much I detest Company I really do like those three weeks of vacation. I couldn't imagine starting over with nothing again.

Well, a position opened up delivering pallets to customers in the area and I took it. I won't go into the downsides right now, they're manifold. I'll fill you in on that later perhaps. Is this move a good thing or a bad thing? Right now the downsides far outnumber this paltry list of pluses so I'll have to fill you in on that later too. I'm not sure; and not sure that I'll ever be sure that driving a truck is better than abject poverty.