The car is a white 1988, 325i, BMW convertible.
A fast cruiser (in-line 6), with 190 horse power and an equal weight body (back and front weigh the same). I can’t tell
you how thrilling it is, just changing lanes. Moves in and out as a man should.
September is over and I have not written since
last October, when we buried Joe Miller (see side link for relevant reference). I guess I really didn’t have anything
to say for 12 months – I can hear the eyebrows going up ;-)
My last consulting job took me through winter
and I spent the spring pounding nails and setting tile. A pass-time I will indulge in again. The time came to climb down from
the hilltop and I have started another, 8 month contract with the State of NY. Suiting up in the morning, I am the proposal/document
manager for a pretty big job. Good work, good people. I can’t complain.
I bought the convertible in May. Found it
along the road one morning and said “yes” when I saw it. A birthday gift to myself, a gift of joy, and an expression
that the only things hanging over me are the sun, the moon and the stars.
I am the dog driving the car - with my tongue
hanging out. Every jaunt is an adventure because it’s a convertible. Unless there are frogs, hail or God himself coming
down, I am topless. (I don’t believe in a God that doesn’t dance or like convertibles - its like a chariot) H*ll,
it’s WHITE for Heaven’s sake.
The past three months were full of helping
my cousins move into VT, dealing with my twin, seeing other friends, dinners, barbeques, a trip to the Cape,
and shoveling gravel with the neighbors.
I drove through the fields of summer reveling
in the promise of heat and possibility: heady nights of honeysuckle and the musky smell of corn – life all around. With
the breath of August hot upon my shoulder, I got caught up in the mid-summer dreams I had forgotten. I relearned the different
levels of love, the courage in vulnerability, and the strength that comes from friendship – ranges of emotions that
were finally real and offer hope.
I had vowed to myself to catch up with, stay
in contact, and participate in the lives of the people I care about. Twenty five years burning down the road and so many people
are still keeping pace. They say if you have 5 life time friends, you are lucky. I’ve screwed the odds all to heck because
I have people who have stuck with me, and the ones I have added in the last few years will be sticky as well.
This sounds like I have just crawled out of
an emotional cave. Not exactly. The progression has been ongoing for a long time. I just feel incredibly alive and happy right
So come with me, dear friends, as I turn my
headlamps towards Fall, I have heated seats…
Here’s a poem and a photo I produced
at Race Point on the Cape….