It's what you can say when you're 85 and people excuse you for honesty. I'm not there yet. I still lean on some semblance of polite small talk.
It's what happened the other night when I pulled up in my Chevy---oh, not that THAT Chevy. Not the Nova. I guess...I guess I owe y'all some backstory.
Long time, no see.
The Nova taught me how to focus. She taught me how to use my hands and fix things. She taught me how to steer into a skid (a few times). She taught me how to drive without electronannies. She taught me how I shouldn't trust a speedometer, or a gas gauge. She taught me how to rewire around fusible links. She taught me how to sweat it out, to fight, to push, and to endure.
And her last lesson was how to just let go. She sat for a long time after my ex ruined her. I pieced her back together with the help of my friends, but she really needed a new start, and she had taught me everything I was going to learn from her. Except, well, that one thing. I wrote a big, emotional ad and I put it on Craigslist, and I said "no" to a few people. And then it happened. Some guys pulled up, they drove her, and they left with her.
I realized I was never going to finish that car. I realized that I didn't want to. She was, to me, the car from high school. The silly old Nova that gave me my first lessons about installing an engine and replacing motor mounts and adjusting a carb. She wasn't the lessons I needed...right now.
So, here we are.
Wait, there's actually more. My new job started expanding my travel, and things got intense, and with the travel came pet sitting like crazy, and my gorgeous Jaguar was sitting around costing a fortune while I was in San Fransisco ALL THE TIME. So I traded it for...drum roll...a Chevy.
And now we're here.
I parked my Chevy at my new 2nd job. Why the 2nd job? Because with all of the travel comes petsitting. And with petsitting comes people in my house that don't handle the dogs the way I do, and there's vet bills. Petsitting plus vet bills means...second job.
I found myself small talking with these people...thinking of my father and his honesty and wishing instead I could be talking to him and spending the time with him---with my family and loved ones. But here were are, here I am, like so many of us. 2 jobs, debts. The new American dream.
The disintegrating American dream---is it because we're bad planners and big purchasers? I don't know, kids. I'm skeptical, but I can't say. I've done nothing but reduce and let go. What I can say, is that my next "Long time, no see" to my family will be well earned and followed with a sigh of relief.
Also, blog readers...
Long time, no see.
|Happy Trails. Long May You Run.|