Loud noises, questionable looks cover the room, sounds of games and music overwhelm the raising voices all around me. Looking around a giant chicken hanging by fishing line dangling overtop of crowd patiently waiting to be waited on next. My bum becoming numb on the worn out bar Stoll so many of others just like me sat and contemplated why they truly came in tonight. The heads of a couple leaning up against my body lean closer and closer together his cheap cologne somehow beyond me grab the attention of a stalking girl just waiting for someone to come and talk to her. On the other side of me an elbow slides up against me as the head of another man falls to the table with the bartender reaching for his captain and coke that was just to much for this night. Looking at we share a smile, nodding that unspoken language is exchange saying I do not need another drink just yet let's wait this dude out and see what happens. Half an hours goes by before the man to my left raises his head off the bar looking around like he is lost or something looks right at me and ask hey man where's my drink? With a small grin and a single response sorry man I drank it and get up and leave the bar. Man how I love a Wednesday night.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Monday, April 21, 2014
My Journey Toward Heaven
It all began on a day unlike any other back in the fall of 2011, following a night I would not soon forget. With the windows rolled down and my head resting gently on the window seal my eyes fixed on the stars staying still as we went seventy-five down the barren highway. Not a cloud in the sky obstructed the view of the beach ball sized moon rising in the distant. A bump in the road bounced my head off the window seal making my eyes finally blink, looking back at my mother; my cheeks tighten; dimples formed, and a sense of happiness fell over my body. Her eyes focused, both hands tightened their grip around the wheel, as her body exhausted, from spending the entire day parked beside that hospital bed, praying franticly beside someone, I did not even know existed, he would come to and walk out of that place a better man. Taking it all in and knowing good and well she had no desire to look my way I gently rested my face onto the cool window seal once again finding the moon, my little hair that still remained on my head flew in every direction as tears rolled out of my eyes, nothing else mattered at that moment. Not in spite of why my mother looked like hell, or where we'd been the whole day, or who I was, all that seemed important was the moon and how it stayed perfectly in place as we flew down the highway inching our way closer and closer to the edge of highway.
We pasted hundreds if not thousands old tattered and bending telephone poles lit up by a full moon, small-town city limit sign blew by us in a flash words all a blur. Speed limit signs might as well be flatted to the ground or turned to the side, flying by with no regard with what the speed limit might have been. Soft soothing sound waves of Led Zeplain made their way between the roaring wind on the night, Jimmy Page guitar riffs standing up the hairs running down my forearms followed by small bumps making their way to surface of my skin, causing my whole body into a shiver. As the minutes turned into hours, we turned off the smooth sailing of the highway, we turned onto our country road litter with loose gravel, leaves and twigs, toward the house that I called home for the past ten years. Pulling into the driveway the moon blasting its reflection onto the empty front yard giving way to the silhouette of the fifties ranch-style house.
Opening the door swinging my bare feet to the gravel driveway thanking the good Lord I finally made it home. Slowly raising myself out of the passenger seat I felt like an infant my legs began to shake, losing all confidence in my legs I fell backwards into the passenger seat. Embracing my defeat of the first attempt, grabbing the car door once again thrusting myself to an upright position, with my body now feeling my age again, I high step across the driveway cringing in pain as every single little rock pierce and stick into the heel of my feet stopping every few steps to dust them off take a breather and make my way ahead toward the soft Bermuda grass awaiting me like a trophy at the end of a basketball tournament. Once safely arriving at the cool dew lined grass in my front yard my body once more collapses and falls face ahead onto the grass. Not wanting to face the embarrassment of another failure before making it to the front door, weighing the benefits of being inside and laying right here in the grass, my mind is made up, and I continue to lay in the grass. Hearing every so often the echoing sounds of Coyotes calling back and forth to each other all around.
After laying on the grass the back of my T-shirt damp and began pruning my back in the process. Glancing downward at the watch on my left wrist the time read off 5:00 AM, my body still going strong I put both palms face down on the grass and pushed myself to feet again grabbed my shoes, took off for a walk. Making my way up to the gravel road litter lined the edges of the road. Beer cans, soda bottles, and plastic bags drew my attention one every fifteen or two paces. Reaching a gated strip of land, planting my foot on the bottom rusty barbed wire fence my great grandpa put up when he bought the land back in 1886.(Nicholson), My right foot went onto the highest wire and jumped to the ground making my way further into the uncharted territory, making a sharp turn to the east this is when the adventure really started.
We pasted hundreds if not thousands old tattered and bending telephone poles lit up by a full moon, small-town city limit sign blew by us in a flash words all a blur. Speed limit signs might as well be flatted to the ground or turned to the side, flying by with no regard with what the speed limit might have been. Soft soothing sound waves of Led Zeplain made their way between the roaring wind on the night, Jimmy Page guitar riffs standing up the hairs running down my forearms followed by small bumps making their way to surface of my skin, causing my whole body into a shiver. As the minutes turned into hours, we turned off the smooth sailing of the highway, we turned onto our country road litter with loose gravel, leaves and twigs, toward the house that I called home for the past ten years. Pulling into the driveway the moon blasting its reflection onto the empty front yard giving way to the silhouette of the fifties ranch-style house.
Opening the door swinging my bare feet to the gravel driveway thanking the good Lord I finally made it home. Slowly raising myself out of the passenger seat I felt like an infant my legs began to shake, losing all confidence in my legs I fell backwards into the passenger seat. Embracing my defeat of the first attempt, grabbing the car door once again thrusting myself to an upright position, with my body now feeling my age again, I high step across the driveway cringing in pain as every single little rock pierce and stick into the heel of my feet stopping every few steps to dust them off take a breather and make my way ahead toward the soft Bermuda grass awaiting me like a trophy at the end of a basketball tournament. Once safely arriving at the cool dew lined grass in my front yard my body once more collapses and falls face ahead onto the grass. Not wanting to face the embarrassment of another failure before making it to the front door, weighing the benefits of being inside and laying right here in the grass, my mind is made up, and I continue to lay in the grass. Hearing every so often the echoing sounds of Coyotes calling back and forth to each other all around.
After laying on the grass the back of my T-shirt damp and began pruning my back in the process. Glancing downward at the watch on my left wrist the time read off 5:00 AM, my body still going strong I put both palms face down on the grass and pushed myself to feet again grabbed my shoes, took off for a walk. Making my way up to the gravel road litter lined the edges of the road. Beer cans, soda bottles, and plastic bags drew my attention one every fifteen or two paces. Reaching a gated strip of land, planting my foot on the bottom rusty barbed wire fence my great grandpa put up when he bought the land back in 1886.(Nicholson), My right foot went onto the highest wire and jumped to the ground making my way further into the uncharted territory, making a sharp turn to the east this is when the adventure really started.
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