September 13, 2005

Train Meditations

I love riding the train to work. Time to think; time to meditate...

The woman next to me just answered her cell phone and then said, “Umm, I’m in North Carolina right now.”

I wonder just how big the number on that crumpled bill would have to be for me to jump down there and get it. Maybe $50?

I wonder when that Venezuelan Handyman is going to come back and fix my squeaky hinge ... and play my guitar again? He had really nice hands, and skin the color of a Brazil nut.

In 8th grade I went to a dance all dressed up in a frilly dress, and I asked Sean Herridy to dance. He laughed so hard he almost cried. I went in the bathroom and then I cried, because I really liked him. Fuck you, Sean Herridy!!!

Then I came out of the bathroom and saw Cathy Belmar dancing with a boy, and she was the biggest geek of all, so I went in the bathroom and cried some more. Fuck you, Cathy Belmar!

I used to cry to get attention in first grade gym class, when I didn’t feel like jumping rope. I liked how all the teachers gathered around and tried to figure out what was wrong. I couldn’t tell them, because there wasn’t anything. I just wanted them to huddle around me. This doesn’t work quite as well in grown-up life, I’ve discovered.

I used to cry a lot.

Now I almost never cry. I could use a good cry, sometimes.

Pass the Kleenex.

It’s amazing how ugly the hidden back rooms of America are. All the trash we hide from view.

My idea of a good day when I was 10 was getting to spend 3-4 solid hours practicing my high jump in my grandparents’ yard, then going for a swim in the pond or climbing an apple tree.


I ran around with no shirt on until I was 11 years old. Everybody thought I was a wild little boy. It didn’t help that I never brushed the back of my hair.

When I was 13, I moved into my twin sister’s closet. I didn’t want to sleep in my room alone in the new house (we had always shared a room) so I set up a bed on her closet floor. It wasn’t a walk-in; it was just a regular sliding-door closet. I had my clock radio (playing Sheena Easton) in there and everything. It was grand.
When I was on the train traveling from Florence to Milan, there was a girl sitting across from me who was sucking her thumb the entire time. She was at least 16. I had vivid fantasies of slapping her face.

Sometimes, after a long day, I go down to the creek and throw different foods to the fish. They like Cheerios®, but not Craisins®.

This place where I live is so beautiful; I never knew that until I had traveled a bit & seen other places.

21 comments:

babyjewels said...

very nice stream of conscience post.

Bobby said...

I had a really nice room in my parent's house, yet I still made my walk in closet into a little fort, and lived in it way more than my actual room.

I think once I found out my parents were pissed about it, it made the closet room all that much better.

ticharu said...

Stream of consciousness rules table scrap, nice chew toys, slap everyone on the train and laugh! Guitar players with nice hands, I didn't know you had a guitar, does it have strings?

Kris said...

Oh yeah. All the Belmars were little bitches.

Do you still go to the river and feed the fish? That makes me envious. I love the city, but I also used to love to feed the ducks at home.

Sounds like a beautiful place.

Lightning Bug's Butt said...

I enjoyed this post. You're so sentimetnal.

And to hell with that guy who wouldn't dance with you.

Madge said...

NC. CT. Well, they both have C's in their abbreviations. But definitely two different places. Who in the hell was she talking to? I love good secrets.

Monkey said...

I'm with Madge. I'm dying of curiosity! She was either skipping out on work, a husband or a girlfriend. Maybe a boyfriend. I have no imagination.

Like the stream of consciousness. Consider yourself huddled around by a monkey and a purple orangutan. And yeah... fuck Sean and Cathy. Fuckers.

bricotrout said...

i linked you today.
if you are so inclined. maybe you could give e a hint as to how to manipulate the html code on the blogspot template to allow me to place my logo in the title box at the top. you obviously figured it out.
bricotrout@hotmail.com
thanks
oh, the word verification right now is 'sluto' no fooling. so... watchya doing this weekend?

the captain said...

Really, why would fish like craisins? Great post today SG!

Cass said...

I like craisins.

babyjewels said...

bricotrout, I helped someone else with this question and had the screen shot handy. This should explain where to put the logo coding in your template

logo

FRITZ said...

Hola mi amiga!

Muchos Gracias por todos los buenos [words] dice a mi [blog] con [stories]!

No habla espanol!

Hasta La Vista:
La Fritzi

FRITZ said...

Takes me back, too.

Once, my father and I traveled from Chicago to Grand Forks, ND on a sleeper train. I had the top bunk, and I could hardly sleep for the excitement. Late at night, I'd stare out the window as the great Midwest rolled by, blurring the earth and sky into one. There would only be the sound of my father's snores and the sparkling stars--there were so many, I thought I could touch them.

Yes, trains are nostalgia on wheels. Trains are peace. Trains are an old part of this country.

We should ride them more often.

LBseahag said...

Sean Hardy was your Napoleon Dynamite....
He is married to Amy Campbell now...

Sis B said...

I've found the crying thing doesn't work so well as an adult, either. Not for long, anyway. And it's not really the kind of attention that you want anyhow--all that pity can be pretty stifling. I'm glad I'm not the only one who pulled that as a kid.

Freiya said...

trains are great for thinking about stuff, its sort of like free time where if you want to just sit and mull you can.
I love looking at peoples back rooms and gardens from the train as well, i remember one time i saw a couple walking around in their garden completely naked, happy as could be, mind you they didn't appear to be using any sunblock as they were very red looking so the happiness was no doubt short lived...

HighMaintenanceHussy said...

Okay, what are craisins? Have they surfaced within the last 4 years? If so, I'm at a terrible disadvantage.

art said...

So how long did you sleep in your sister's closet?

B.O.B.I. said...

Very nice post. Sometimes it's nice to sit back and reflect on things, even the more painful moments in life.

TinaPoPo said...

My sister used to have bunk beds in her room, and they were the kind where the one underneath was perpendicular to the one on top, and there was a dresser next to it. Behind the dresser was a kind of cubby hole. We both used to sleep in the cubby hole because we liked it better. I miss that.

Rowan said...

Wish I'd realized as a child just how normal teachers are, I just never would have believed it then either.