203…January 16th…new Saturday morning ramblings……at 6:12 am

“Between Places Revisited” 2010

“Anyone who trades liberty for security deserves neither liberty or security” – Benjamin Franklin

I changed the name of the hours just before dawn…it made me sleep better than before…I called them something different…to make them different….so maybe I could fool myself into believing…that those are the hours….that time is perfect….still mostly untouched…and easy….she called it “diffusion”…used her morning coffee as the example…told us that she never stirred in the cream…just let it sit there in that swirly pattern atop of the coffee….I thought it a bad example…but I was the student…she the teacher….so her example had to work….I guess we’d never really taken any steps that direction….and for what reason I can’t say…always seemed this direction was the normal occurence when it came to stepping…we had our habits…they had theirs…there were no battlefields….or maps with strategies built into them…it was a pretty simple game of cat and mouse…with an occasional dog for a little different twist…so in essence it was always cat and mouse….no matter who was doing what…. because I guess the concept of the game revolves around chasing …something…so we had it down pretty much where we wanted it….knew what the rules were and what to expect….I was waiting for a starting gun…a guy in a black and white striped shirt…..but me I was accused of being far to literal….when it came to pretty much everything…so why would this magically be different…there was no manual…that described…the feelings…nothing I could read…when I would leave the room…and profess “I was a binis man”……when in reality I was going to the bathroom…..not that the 2 were grossly different….there was some odd connection….but is was something we never discussed in the same conversation with….food…dining habits…God…the girl down the street that wore the really short Levi cut-offs…..composting…Mitosis and Miosis…..other than that…it was open season….and our conversation did generally drift back to either composting ….or God’s dining habits…..so we always seemed between a rock and a hard place…..she moved early that spring…..said she could take the bugs no longer….I agreed and moved as well….except to a different place than she did….there was some sort of sweet sorrow in our departure…yet a sense of relief was prevelent…maybe it was because we still loved each other….just couldn’t put it in words…or what we thought we knew was not really very palusable…and we could save ourselves years of embarassment…..we did the dishes for the last time that April night…she sang the cowboy songs and quoted Dale Evans….I washed her red hair in the cracked white sink….and thought of her beautiful voice…I was really going to miss her yodeling…….

his name was Grandy….I never knew anybody with that name…except my friend’s friend’s grandpa…and I think it was just a nickname…his real name was Waymon….and I only knew 1 person named Waymon…so things were starting to stack up weird from the get go…..there is something about a family where everybody has a weird name….either the parents were imaginative and slightly eccentric…or the’re from another country….either way…I was certain if I decided on a large family….they were going to have circus….names…now I’m not quite certain what a circus name might be…..but it would take just a bit of library time and we’d have it…..I figured they’d be 3 and 5 syllable names…have an Eastern European flair to them…and a sort of handlebar moustache feel to them….it wasn’t about  ideas anymore….these were poured in concrete sort of concepts….like philosophy…you could prove…or religion….stuff like that….true…but maybe not so true….we sat idle at the light for a few moments…each thinking the same ideas but in different methods of delivery…..until we both reached the same conclusion under similar situations….I said “yes”…she did too…. we’ve never talked about that day…in 22 years…….and Grandy came to mind….his white milk crust around his lips……who was he anyway…….

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