Bloom
There are so many mornings that we can't remember because they're identical. My alarm goes off at 6:30 AM Monday to Thursday. I snooze once. I wake and get ready for work.
This morning was different. It was different mostly because of what happens to my body when I'm performing in Too Much Light Makes The Baby Go Blind. It's a show that begins at 11:30pm on Friday and Saturday with a Sunday show at 7pm and a meeting afterward that can sometimes keep you up until midnight. Suffice it to say I'm wrecked on Monday mornings.
I was wrecked this morning so somehow I snoozed an alarming number of times and woke up forty minutes later than usual. I called work. I showered. I ate. I left. Whenever I'm running late, I like to give myself some leeway so I don't have to rush. I told my co-workers I'd be a half hour to an hour late. I was thinking to myself as I left that it would be nice to bump into the Limping Man because then I could follow him with my buffer time. That thought was followed of course by the recollection that Limping Man is as regular as Wilford Brimley, so my chances were slim.
It's a beautiful day today. On these days I love Chicago dearly. Finally the trees seem full and are everywhere. I think it's a good week for blossoms--some kind of blossoms. I don't know a damn thing about blossoms, but these blossoms are white and pretty and everywhere. I love them and I'm not afraid to admit it.
I rounded the corner heading toward the Western El stop, thinking of the blossoms when lo: Limping Man was there. He was running forty minutes late as well. A mental speedway second of disbelief, thoughts of karma and fate was followed by my steely commitment to learn more about this friendly hobbler. He carried a shopping bag with him today. He was wearing shorts today. He was on the wrong side of the flipping street today. Everyting was different.
I was walking south. He was walking north. "Hello" I said. "Hi ya doin'?" he replied. And then we went in opposite directions. Immediately I rounded a corner to the west that I never round. As I did I heard a much friendlier "hello" from Limping Man and a woman's voice greeting him back. I thought again about how low I was on his Friendliness Index but I tried not to let it bother me. I stopped. I couldn't keep walking west after all. I waited for the woman to pass, stuck my hand into the nearest free newspaper dispenser and then retraced my steps toward the north.
And there was Limping Man's back. It was difficult to follow him. After all, he moves slowly and I needed an excuse to leave some distance between us. At one point I had to stop. I held up my newspaper and peered over the top of it. I was about as subtle as Spy vs. Spy. People were litterally staring at me as they passed. The paper in my hand was an employment paper filled with want ads. I found that ironic since I was late for work--and later still because I was following a strange man for no good reason. The ads on the page I was looking at were for construction jobs.
Yes. I could have worked for the CIA.
He limped on and I watched. I decided to stay still because I could easily have put a block between us and still kept a good eye on him. Then the predictable--he turned toward McDonalds. My previous suspicions had been correct. He's one of the many retired men who spend a lot of time at McDonalds in the mornings. Just to confirm, I approached the front of the restaurant, contemplated throwing out my paper but chose to keep it in case I needed to stop suddenly and make an even bigger ass out myself by pretending to be looking for a drain management job by the ketchup dispenser.
As I walked into the vestibule, I saw him through the glass waiting in line. I decided that this was proof at least that he didn't come to use the restrooms. Again, with a brilliant idea, I decided to pretend to use the phonebook below the payphone. With artful intention (I am a performer after all) I flipped through the book, located a page of lawyers and then put my finger on my pretend find. I looked up from my lawyer, and saw Limping Man at the counter, leaning very casually and comfortably toward the employee. He had already placed his order and he was being his usual friendly self. He leaned with his right arm, and turning back...he looked at me.
Lawyers! Let's see. Yes. That's the one. I turned and left...satisfied that indeed, Limping Man is a retiree who lives nearbye and spends every morning at McDonalds with a community of other retirees.
Now, had anyone been following me, they would have determined that I was an out of work construction worker who was looking to sue his previous employee--probably because they fired me for being unable to lift anything heavy, or because of my penchant for expensive eyewear.
I rode to work happy. The sun feels brighter than usual today. I am reading a fabulous book. The people are wearing less. Somehow, it gives you the impression that you can see them more clearly. I'd like to think this is a day for fun--with the blossoms out and retirees lounging longer than usual in their shorts before they meet their friends.
I'd like to think this is a day for all things to be lay bare.
This morning was different. It was different mostly because of what happens to my body when I'm performing in Too Much Light Makes The Baby Go Blind. It's a show that begins at 11:30pm on Friday and Saturday with a Sunday show at 7pm and a meeting afterward that can sometimes keep you up until midnight. Suffice it to say I'm wrecked on Monday mornings.
I was wrecked this morning so somehow I snoozed an alarming number of times and woke up forty minutes later than usual. I called work. I showered. I ate. I left. Whenever I'm running late, I like to give myself some leeway so I don't have to rush. I told my co-workers I'd be a half hour to an hour late. I was thinking to myself as I left that it would be nice to bump into the Limping Man because then I could follow him with my buffer time. That thought was followed of course by the recollection that Limping Man is as regular as Wilford Brimley, so my chances were slim.
It's a beautiful day today. On these days I love Chicago dearly. Finally the trees seem full and are everywhere. I think it's a good week for blossoms--some kind of blossoms. I don't know a damn thing about blossoms, but these blossoms are white and pretty and everywhere. I love them and I'm not afraid to admit it.
I rounded the corner heading toward the Western El stop, thinking of the blossoms when lo: Limping Man was there. He was running forty minutes late as well. A mental speedway second of disbelief, thoughts of karma and fate was followed by my steely commitment to learn more about this friendly hobbler. He carried a shopping bag with him today. He was wearing shorts today. He was on the wrong side of the flipping street today. Everyting was different.
I was walking south. He was walking north. "Hello" I said. "Hi ya doin'?" he replied. And then we went in opposite directions. Immediately I rounded a corner to the west that I never round. As I did I heard a much friendlier "hello" from Limping Man and a woman's voice greeting him back. I thought again about how low I was on his Friendliness Index but I tried not to let it bother me. I stopped. I couldn't keep walking west after all. I waited for the woman to pass, stuck my hand into the nearest free newspaper dispenser and then retraced my steps toward the north.
And there was Limping Man's back. It was difficult to follow him. After all, he moves slowly and I needed an excuse to leave some distance between us. At one point I had to stop. I held up my newspaper and peered over the top of it. I was about as subtle as Spy vs. Spy. People were litterally staring at me as they passed. The paper in my hand was an employment paper filled with want ads. I found that ironic since I was late for work--and later still because I was following a strange man for no good reason. The ads on the page I was looking at were for construction jobs.
Yes. I could have worked for the CIA.
He limped on and I watched. I decided to stay still because I could easily have put a block between us and still kept a good eye on him. Then the predictable--he turned toward McDonalds. My previous suspicions had been correct. He's one of the many retired men who spend a lot of time at McDonalds in the mornings. Just to confirm, I approached the front of the restaurant, contemplated throwing out my paper but chose to keep it in case I needed to stop suddenly and make an even bigger ass out myself by pretending to be looking for a drain management job by the ketchup dispenser.
As I walked into the vestibule, I saw him through the glass waiting in line. I decided that this was proof at least that he didn't come to use the restrooms. Again, with a brilliant idea, I decided to pretend to use the phonebook below the payphone. With artful intention (I am a performer after all) I flipped through the book, located a page of lawyers and then put my finger on my pretend find. I looked up from my lawyer, and saw Limping Man at the counter, leaning very casually and comfortably toward the employee. He had already placed his order and he was being his usual friendly self. He leaned with his right arm, and turning back...he looked at me.
Lawyers! Let's see. Yes. That's the one. I turned and left...satisfied that indeed, Limping Man is a retiree who lives nearbye and spends every morning at McDonalds with a community of other retirees.
Now, had anyone been following me, they would have determined that I was an out of work construction worker who was looking to sue his previous employee--probably because they fired me for being unable to lift anything heavy, or because of my penchant for expensive eyewear.
I rode to work happy. The sun feels brighter than usual today. I am reading a fabulous book. The people are wearing less. Somehow, it gives you the impression that you can see them more clearly. I'd like to think this is a day for fun--with the blossoms out and retirees lounging longer than usual in their shorts before they meet their friends.
I'd like to think this is a day for all things to be lay bare.
1 Comments:
At 1:24 PM ,
sierrajuliettromeo said...
i noticed the roses this weekend...all the rain in may has got them going nuts now...absolutely beautifully cukoo...i fall in love with chicago again every year when the temperature finally gets over that hump and you don't need a jacket any more, and the kitties are out prowling and scratching their backs on the cement, and you can smell freshly cut grass while walking home in the evening, and you start seeing people's bare kneecaps again, and you don't have to walk a million miles an hour to get to where you're going to get out of the cold any more cuz now it's not cold, now it's luxuriously warm and you can relax and meander and take the scenic route...
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