Early traffic. Cars shooshing by. Thankful the window’s open. Weather allows it—for now. Rain’s coming. Depends on the slant. How the drops fall. I’m hoping straight down so we keep the air moving in, through, out.
Drove past the food bank yesterday. Dozens outside. I didn’t stop. Just like everyone else with it better than most. Some stood in line. Some paced or leaned, smoking. A few clustered in small groups—smoking. People walked out carrying white plastic bags, one each—smoking. Like they’d just grabbed odds and ends at Meijer and were heading home.
I doubt they’re writing about me this morning. But maybe one is. The backpack guy with a bushy, red beard, maroon knit cap, orange hunting coat, heavy work pants, army boots. Looked like a creative type. A lot like Andy Hull from Manchester Orchestra and the Shake it Out video days, before jumping rope became a religion and he lost fifty pounds. I can see backpack guy observing, pondering, snatching meaning from the ether and scrawling it down onto paper. Maybe I’m in there—just another chubby white guy driving past in a nice car. Heading home to his nice house. Hating me a little. I wouldn’t blame him. If I didn’t know me, I’d hate me too.
A grown man with his silly lunch routine—a hotdog, or bologna sandwich, or a PB&J. Then, a walk with my wife. Dogs dragging us along as we talk about the kids, work, dinner. And always, I receive the same reward. Turds, because one of them has to shit, every single time.
It’s a good life. Not the one I planned. Plenty of zigging when I should’ve zagged. Down when I should’ve gone up. Bad decisions. Or into bad places because of someone else’s bad call. It’s not over. There’s still time for things to go wrong. Tomorrow I could be in line at the bank. Or at the church, holding out my hands.
But for now, I’m here. Banging out morning words to clear away the sleepless night, shake off the past, set aside plans for tomorrow, and revel in the first drops that have come. Big, round, heavy ones. Straight down. Hitting hard on the sill of this big open window.
~ KJ
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