Life Among the Never-Winged

Once upon a time I was writing a book called, "Just Another Love Letter", about angels behaving badly. Now I just quietly ask myself each day, "What the hell am I doing?"

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Location: The Rocky Mountain Empire, United States

My friends always knew I was going to hell. My only hope is that God likes good jokes and bad redheads.

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  • Tuesday, May 16, 2006

    Burning Away the Carbon

    (The first of three posts I'd intended, before Monday night.)

    Busy weekend, the kind of busy which leaves you feeling good.

    I’ve been knotted up, inside and out. My muscles tight and hard, my thoughts retracing the same dull paths, my soul or spirit or whatever you want to call it, crumpled up like a torn-out sheet of notebook paper.

    Saturday. I threw the boyos in the car and drove south to Pueblo. It’s a drive I love. In Denver, it’s easy to forget where you are. It’s a city like any other city, the suburbs abound with Targets and Wal-Marts and fast food and chain restaurants, the houses are either 70s-era duplexes or beige, nouveau-luxe crackerboxes. Mountains are grey things in the distance that you can see when the Brown Cloud isn’t too thick.

    But South of the Tech Center, you can remember where you are. The landscape shakes off sprawl (for a little ways). There are sienna plateaus, their sides bristling with dark green pine trees, feet tucked in charcoal-colored scrub oak. Patchy forests of the same. A sweeping sage valley stretching to the front range in shades of lavender and slate. Pike’s Peak’s snowy head holds up the blue sky over Colorado Springs.

    Driving this stretch, I remember I’m in the West, and what that is like. It’s dry, it’s hot, but it’s beautiful – its starkness and cruelty softened this time of year after meager rains turn the grass green and set the cactus to blooming.

    I put the only suitable music into the CD player. U2’s Joshua Tree, and Rattle and Hum. The boyos were talking to each other, which freed me up to sing Red Hill Mining Town, my favorite song. And I felt keen pleasure listening to the live version of Bullet the Blue Sky as I roared through the Springs. Preach it Bono. Though, Silver and Gold hits a little too close to home these days. We all have hypocritical moments.

    Past Colorado Springs, the landscape really dries out, and it feels more like the Old West. The Old West at 90 mph, but hey?

    I found my way to Mr. DeLaClowncar and Peewee’s house sans directions even though this was my first time driving the route. I’ve always been the passenger, and O and I have usually come down at night for the weekend.

    The boyos and girlios warmed up to each other pretty quickly, more quickly each time we get together. They played together all afternoon without a single fight, and the three of us talked on the porch, and later in the park. There are six people in the world to whom I can say anything, with whom I can share comfortable silences and understandings with just a look. They are two of those people.

    We wound up in an Irish bar and restaurant for dinner – a real stretch for three Micks and their kiddies. Excellent place; they brew their own beer and have plans to distill their own whiskey. So long as it’s whiskey and not potcheen, I’ll be back with my glass extended.

    I drove back that evening and managed to miss a downpour in the Springs. I expected to be tired when I got home, but I wasn't. I can't remember when I've felt so relaxed and refreshed. Like a car, I think I need a long, fast road trip now and then to burn the carbon out of my soul.

    4 people left me a love letter:

    Blogger Bud wrote in a love letter...

    Ah, that all sounds very refreshing. Glad all that came out so well.

    8:36 AM, May 17, 2006  
    Blogger LazyLazyMe wrote in a love letter...

    You have six, I have but one.

    You have the better of me Nancy dear.

    It's raining here and my small house feels like a tent, I can here every drop.


    12:43 PM, May 17, 2006  
    Blogger Esereth wrote in a love letter...

    Just to say, I thought I was the only person in world who noticed Red Hill Mining Town was the most beautiful, longing, intense song ever written. One of 'em, anyway.

    10:25 PM, May 17, 2006  
    Blogger Nancy Dancehall wrote in a love letter...

    Bud: Very refreshing. Things like tha are what keep me going.

    Lazy: The better of you? No, I'm probably just higher-maintenance, like one of those yappy poodles.

    Esereth: Amen. DOes this make us song-sisters?

    8:29 AM, May 18, 2006  

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