Friday, August 28, 2009

Commute

I had a thought. More then one actually but several have fled before they were fully formed and I had to be content with the slow easy to catch ones. Yesterday I was riding my Motorcycle on the freeway during drone home hour, you know, when everyone drives slow and looks as if they were going from work to a funeral? The time of day when you look into other peoples lives as you flash by their windows and wonder briefly if they are really talking on the phone or if they are having some sort of swearing fit. I usually avoid this time of day, leaving early or late especially if I am on the motorcycle, there is something seriously wrong about your feet touching the freeway, Really. Yesterday I had places to be and people waiting for me so I sucked it up and got stuck with 200000 of my brothers and sisters on the drudge-way.
There I was, feet down on the freeway, behind a rig belching death into the air and another on my left side expelling destruction in a greasy black cloud. The people I had seen were all of a type, harried, hapless, morose, eyes straight forward shoulders slumped and hands limply on the wheel. I was not in a bad mood, but the combined gloom of all of these people who where being crushed by the various responsibilities they have was overwhelming.
Now I am sure that all of us have real problems, things that are wrong in our lives, things that we wish were better, money that we owe to the Shylocks of the world. THINGS. These things have weight; they rest on your shoulders and squish you into the ground. Driving home after work ruminating on the lies you have been fed your whole life seems to be epidemic. I was beginning to feel them, all of the THINGS that I worry about. The weight filling my brain and stealing my happiness, who was it that told me I could be anything I wanted? Well, I tried and guess what? I am not what I wanted and sometimes I can not even remember what it is that it was that I wanted and on and on and on and a girl in a Mini pulled up next to me.
She was not beautiful, but she had clean hair and clothes, she was tapping her hands on the steering wheel and singing to herself. I could see an ID badge swinging from her mirror so I knew she also had work, and here she was stuck in the middle of the world’s biggest pity party and smiling. I found myself caught up in watching her. Tapping my foot in time to the slight movement of her head as she sang along to whatever happiness she was listening too. I could feel the weight lifting from my heart, as traffic began to move again she looked over and saw that I had been watching her. 15 feet away and I could see her blush from her neck to her hairline, she gave me a tentative smile and I smiled back. She smiled for real then and my worries fled.

1 comment:

Fraser's and Co. said...

Always love your writing... humor, perspective, and a moral to the story :)