A Week's Worth of Worries

"I don't think that's a very good idea. You see, I'm very disappointing in person." - Palomba

Pt.1 - Trains

I didn't realize it till the other day, but not matter where I seem to move I'm never very far away from train tracks. There weren't any in North Haledon (little town's too prissy for that), but when I would stay with my father in Hawthorne there were. In Poughkeepsie the train line ran right next to my building, in fact (by sheer coincidence I'm sure) it ran right by all three of the freshman dorms and the trains passed by regularly (and loudly) at about 6:05 in the morning. In New Brunswick the trains were a little further away, but you could still hear them, and their tracks cut a neat little line across the city. In Fair Lawn my apartment was sandwiched between Route 208 and the Radburn Station, which made my complex a commuter haven (and ridiculously expensive) and which did me no good at all since I worked down the street. And now in Hawthorne my house is less than half a block from the same tracks my father's house was by. I knew they were there, but I didn't realize how familiar they would still sound. I haven't spent much time in my house since I moved in, but yesterday I was home for a bit, and I heard them. And I remembered them. I remembered the sounds.

Pt.2 - Dog Days

Work has been ridiculous. REE-DEEECK-U-LOSSS. These people turn every little thing into a catastrophe and they make the simplest thing into a major calamity. The other day I was in the middle of fifty things when the intercom went off. It was one of my mechanics telling me one of the other mechanics had been out by the dog cages and one of the dogs didn't look too good. I asked why they were playing with the dogs in the middle of the day and they didn't answer. A few minutes later a few of the drivers walked in and said they'd been talking to someone and they'd said that one of the dogs didn't look too good, he was laying on the ground and not moving. Then my secretary came in, said someone had just told her that the dog was just laying there with its eyes closed, not doing anything. I said I'd go take a look, but before I could the original mechanic walks in and goes, "Dog's just laying around with it's eyes closed not doing anything, I think there's something wrong." I said I was on it and dropped what I was doing to head out to the cage. When I got there, sure enough, the dog was curled up on its side with its eyes closed not really doing anything. I called his name, his ears perked up, his head shot up, and he bounced up off the ground and jumped against the side of the cage. He was yelping and running around just glad for a rare middle of the day visit. I laughed. A dog, laying in the shade, with it's eyes closed, not really doing anything...the son of a bitch was sleeping. There wasn't anything wrong with him, in fact everything must have seemed just right to him. As a side note when I came in this morning I could tell the dogs had been in the trailer, so I called my father and asked why. He says, "One of the mechanics said there was something wrong with him the other day so I thought I would let them inside." I thought that was funny until I found the little present they left me on the carpet in my office. Son of a bitch.

Pt. 3 - The Ride

I was driving to New Brunswick one night last week when the "Check Tires" light came on in my car. So I checked all the tires and made sure they were fine. I'm driving along and the "Check Gas Cap" light came on, so I checked the gas cap and it was fine. Then I'm driving along and the "Check Engine" light came on. I checked, the engine was there, that's about as far as I can go on that one. I have to get my car up to the dealer but I haven't had time, and with my warranty set to expire in a few miles I've decided to park the car until I know I can get it to the dealer. So I've been driving my pick-up truck for the past two weeks, and missing my car quite a bit.

"I need a girl. Not for sex, just so I have someone to go to the movies with and waste my money on." - Palomba

Pt. 3B-Someone Else's Ride

I was coming to work at 5:30 yesterday morning when I stumbled upon a car wrapped around a telephone pole. I hopped out only to find that the car was empty. I drove around for a bit, but couldn't find anyone that looked like they'd abandoned the car. I assumed whoever crashed the damn thing had fled. Maybe it was stolen, maybe they were stoned. But either way someone wrapped a car around a telephone pole and then just left. The cops drove by without even stopping. I don't know if I like working in a place like this.

Pt. 4- Play That Funky Music

Tonight is the first Youth Mass at St.Paul's. It will be an unmitigated disaster. I promise you this. I know things. I think it will go well enough, but they're expecting too much of it. I'm supposed to run the music. Maybe I'll replace the chants with Gwar. I would get a kick out of that. The things they trust me to do...

Pt.5 - Appearances

Someone keeps leaving bags of children's clothes on my porch. The night I moved in I found a foodtown bag with a jacket, a t-shirt, and a pair of shorts. Another night I found a bag with a few shirts and some socks in it. Two nights ago I came home only to find a blue book bag packed full of clothes sitting by my door. At first I thought it was meant for the people who used to live here, but they've been gone three weeks. Then I thought it might be for the neighbors, but they haven't said anything, and I'm not about to go knock on the door with a bag full of children't clothes and say, "For no explainable reason I have a bag of small children's clothes that I assure you have just been appearing on my doorstep which may or may not belong to the child you may or may not have." I can hear the sirens already. Hell, they can keep leaving the clothes as long as they don't start leaving the little kids.

Pt. 5 - Lost Fathers

I'm three episodes away from having watched the entire first season of Lost in the past 8 days. I think I really like that show. I'm terrible afraid they'll ruin it in Season 2. They're introducing new characters (hard to do for a show set on a "deserted" island), and there will be "major revelations". You're always worried about a show "jumping the shark", but in this case I'm just worried about the show becoming silly. I mean it's been halfway there since it started. Also, I'm beginning to realize that at it's core Lost is really just a show about fathers. Think about it. Jack has issues with his father, and becomes a sort of father figure to the people on the island. Locke was abandoned by his father only to meet up with him later in life, and then only to be viciously betrayed by him. Claire never mentions her father, but splits with the father of her soon to be baby. Charlie sort of assumes the role of "father" to Claire's baby, and in fact sometimes tries to protect Claire like a father would. Hurley's first spot of bad luck when he wins the lottery? He loses his grandfather who was like a father to him. Jin and Sun are forced to leave Korea because of Sun's father. Originally he was what kept them apart, then he gave them permission to be together, and then he basically forced them apart to the point where they flee the country. Sawyer becomes Sawyer when his father kills himself, and then goes after the man who made him who he is (perhaps the idea of the man who caused his father's death filled the void left by his father's death for Sawyer. Indeed he follows in the man's footsteps far more than he does his father's). Michael is the only father with a child on the island, even though he didn't raise the boy and is only filling in for the father who did. Hell I'm sure there will be more in the episodes of Season 1 I haven't watched, and even more in Season 2. This is what happens when you study film in school, you read more into things that you don't need to read more into. Maybe it's got something to do with father issues as well.

Speaking of...

Pt. 6 - My Father And Other Stories I Haven't Talked About This Week

I didn't realize until yesterday when I finally stopped working that I hadn't really stopped working in nearly two weeks. When people say that they usually mean they haven't had a day off. I haven't had more than a few hours off. Until yesterday the longest break I'd had in the last two weeks or so was less than 6 hours. When I finally crashed yesterday I crashed big time. The cut on my foot had been getting better, but yesterday it got worse. It hurt to walk again, so I was moving with a bit of a limp. I was so tired I was moving slow, and my head hurt something awful. It got to the point where by 9:00 yesterday morning my father said I should probably go home. So I did, fully intending to go back in a few hours. When I got home I threw in a load of laundry, cleaned up a bit, and watched a little more Lost. I meant to be back at work by noon. I instead I woke up around two o'clock having never realized I went to sleep. Shit. I never made it back to work that afternoon, in fact I didn't go back until late last night. It wasn't till then that I realized something. As I was limping towards the pick-up truck yesterday morning my father was telling one of the guys from the post office about the kind of hours I've been putting in lately, and about the toll they're taking on me. It's just like my father to make everyone out to be weaker than him, just like my father to make it seem like nobody else can cut it but him. But then...as I was getting to my car I swear I heard something I've never heard before. I swear he said to the guy, "I'm worried about him." I stopped, and almost turned around. But I wasn't sure he'd said that. Wasn't sure it wasn't just my sleep deprived mind playing tricks on me. Wasn't sure he'd said anything at all. But then again...

"I'm worried about him."

Hell, so am I...so am I.