Tuesday, February 14, 2006
They've Got Time
Now that we've cleared the path a bit, I guess I can go back to taking my time.
I got a call this weekend from a friend I hadn't heard from in two or three years. And I had a hard time putting the words together. I guess there was plenty to say, but when enough time passes, the mundane details sound so crushing. I remember going out for a beer with a high school friend of mine. On my way to the bar, I wondered how we could summarize things. I could really go year-by-year of college; it would have been easy enough -- funny how they divided up so cleanly. But it didn't end up that way. I don't even remember what I said, but I remember feeling that a lot was left out. I'm no good at synopsis.
But with that stated, I guess I should summarize recent events: we had a regular holidays. We drove to family and more family. There wasn't enough time off from work. I spent too much money. Nolan had a birthday. He fell asleep in his cake and got 7,844,120,945 gifts. We still haven't found a place for all of them. He's gotten real tall, talky and walky. Or maybe it's walkie-talkie. I still have a good job, but could use some more money. I'm on page 400 of my 300-page book. I've been running more and am in decent shape. I got the wife a few things for Valentine's Day; then I hid them around the house with a note on each of them, leading her to the next one. Then I got mad when she didn't even notice the first gift sitting right in front of her. Then she got mad that she had to run around the house at 6:30 AM, looking for gifts. Then we got into a big fight and I went back to sleep.
A week and a half ago, the wife, boy and I got in the car and drove 11 hours to Grand Forks, North Dakota. I don't recommend doing this with a 1-year-old, by the way. That's my free tip of the day. You're welcome. On our way there, we stopped in the Twin Cities, also known as Minneapolis and St. Paul, Minnesota. My thing with the Twin Cities is they're nice. I really have nothing bad to say about them. They are very clean. Well-designed. Traffic isn't bad. Architecture is interesting. People (outside of football season) are nice. See? Many great things to say about this area. I have to say these things -- and I stand by the comments; they're not just filler -- because what I'm about to say about the Cities is going to alienate the one or two readers I have left. I don't mean to do that. Really, I don't. But I have to be honest.
While we were there, the wife and I went to some busy, strip-mall area off of the interstate because she wanted to go to a Babies 'R' Us. So we went, and the whole thing -- the drive through the Cities, the look of the brick faces on the new stores, the cars around us, the business of it all -- it represented my exact memory of the Cities. Everyone there is young. Everyone is busy. Everyone is going places. Successful. Planning. Preppy. Right out there on the cutting edge -- well, about as up-to-date as any Midwesterner can be, I guess. They've got these great big, wide sections of freeway that cut around the entire metro area. And they slice right through these large bluffs -- they're like great, big troughs. And they fill up with traffic with all these preppy, young, enterprising people going to and fro. And along the section of highway we drove, it was all under construction -- widening the trough for more to come and feed on the heart of the Cities. I generally like visiting, but I always feel a lingering disgust at it all . . . and then relief upon leaving. I want no part of that lifestyle. And it's not that it's that different from where I am now! It's like that moment in Psycho in which Janet Leigh's sister is lurking around Mrs. Bates's bedroom, and . . . . BAM! She scares herself. She thought someone was watching her, but nope! It was just her own reflection in the mirror.
I can't explain it very well, I grant you that. The wife and I have even talked about moving out. Milwaukee doesn't always fill our cup of caffeinated as high as we'd like, and I never planned to stay here as long as we have. But all I know is on Monday morning, as the Honda coasted over the St. Croix river and the sun shone down on Interstate 94, lighting it up like a golden necklace, lacing its way through the hills, I sighed relief with all the rat race behind me.
I got a call this weekend from a friend I hadn't heard from in two or three years. And I had a hard time putting the words together. I guess there was plenty to say, but when enough time passes, the mundane details sound so crushing. I remember going out for a beer with a high school friend of mine. On my way to the bar, I wondered how we could summarize things. I could really go year-by-year of college; it would have been easy enough -- funny how they divided up so cleanly. But it didn't end up that way. I don't even remember what I said, but I remember feeling that a lot was left out. I'm no good at synopsis.
But with that stated, I guess I should summarize recent events: we had a regular holidays. We drove to family and more family. There wasn't enough time off from work. I spent too much money. Nolan had a birthday. He fell asleep in his cake and got 7,844,120,945 gifts. We still haven't found a place for all of them. He's gotten real tall, talky and walky. Or maybe it's walkie-talkie. I still have a good job, but could use some more money. I'm on page 400 of my 300-page book. I've been running more and am in decent shape. I got the wife a few things for Valentine's Day; then I hid them around the house with a note on each of them, leading her to the next one. Then I got mad when she didn't even notice the first gift sitting right in front of her. Then she got mad that she had to run around the house at 6:30 AM, looking for gifts. Then we got into a big fight and I went back to sleep.
A week and a half ago, the wife, boy and I got in the car and drove 11 hours to Grand Forks, North Dakota. I don't recommend doing this with a 1-year-old, by the way. That's my free tip of the day. You're welcome. On our way there, we stopped in the Twin Cities, also known as Minneapolis and St. Paul, Minnesota. My thing with the Twin Cities is they're nice. I really have nothing bad to say about them. They are very clean. Well-designed. Traffic isn't bad. Architecture is interesting. People (outside of football season) are nice. See? Many great things to say about this area. I have to say these things -- and I stand by the comments; they're not just filler -- because what I'm about to say about the Cities is going to alienate the one or two readers I have left. I don't mean to do that. Really, I don't. But I have to be honest.
While we were there, the wife and I went to some busy, strip-mall area off of the interstate because she wanted to go to a Babies 'R' Us. So we went, and the whole thing -- the drive through the Cities, the look of the brick faces on the new stores, the cars around us, the business of it all -- it represented my exact memory of the Cities. Everyone there is young. Everyone is busy. Everyone is going places. Successful. Planning. Preppy. Right out there on the cutting edge -- well, about as up-to-date as any Midwesterner can be, I guess. They've got these great big, wide sections of freeway that cut around the entire metro area. And they slice right through these large bluffs -- they're like great, big troughs. And they fill up with traffic with all these preppy, young, enterprising people going to and fro. And along the section of highway we drove, it was all under construction -- widening the trough for more to come and feed on the heart of the Cities. I generally like visiting, but I always feel a lingering disgust at it all . . . and then relief upon leaving. I want no part of that lifestyle. And it's not that it's that different from where I am now! It's like that moment in Psycho in which Janet Leigh's sister is lurking around Mrs. Bates's bedroom, and . . . . BAM! She scares herself. She thought someone was watching her, but nope! It was just her own reflection in the mirror.
I can't explain it very well, I grant you that. The wife and I have even talked about moving out. Milwaukee doesn't always fill our cup of caffeinated as high as we'd like, and I never planned to stay here as long as we have. But all I know is on Monday morning, as the Honda coasted over the St. Croix river and the sun shone down on Interstate 94, lighting it up like a golden necklace, lacing its way through the hills, I sighed relief with all the rat race behind me.
