Rainstorm fantasies
"I am just going outside and may be some time."
-- Captain L.E.G. Oates
I came very close to going outside last night, and, instead of heading into a blizzard, making for the center of yet another rainstorm. The mad dash to the last day of school year and relentless rainstorms are driving all of us a little crazy.
On Saturday, I put nearly 80 miles on the car while delivering the boys to youth group meetings, a piano competition, 3 soccer games, and a birthday party. In the middle of all that, I had to go to my sister's baby shower. (Thanks, Saint, for covering the last soccer game for me!) I collapsed into bed at 8:30 and was still dragging the next morning. How I envied the boys their youthful energies.
Last night I spent some time with Sport. He's learning some new piano pieces, and is easily frustrated when he gets new music. He expects to be able to play them in minutes, and doesn't seem to realize that his teacher has been giving him music that is more challenging. No matter how calm I try to be, he tests my patience every time. I know he's got an artistic temperament, but it's all I can do not to smack him on the back of the head when he's mouthing off.
Sometimes I fantasize about getting in my car and just driving away. I know I'll never do it, but it helps break up the routine. At first, I imagine getting a little cabin somewhere in the west (Arizona? Colorado?) where I hunker down and write the Great American Novel. I learn to cook on an outdoor fire and experiment with peyote. I learn the names of all the constellations and end up with a pet wolf named Charley.
Then, inevitably, my imagination starts to work overtime. Soon, I'm being harassed by a psychotic stalker who wants not only my manuscript and Charley's hide, but a couple of my internal organs as well. After spending some time trying to figure out how I'd escape from his torture shack, I'm usually glad to get back to the normalcy of my own hectic life.
Travelling to exotic places in a quest for fame and adventure can exact a very high price, as Captain Oates found out. Still, I wouldn't mind a trip to Las Vegas every once in awhile.
3 comments:
I lol!!!!!! It's great to know that there are others out there contemplating the very things I think about. I know I'll never do it. But still I think about how I could run away never to be found unless I wanted to be. Credit cards would have to be tossed because they can find you through them! It would have to be cash all the way. What sweet anonymity.
Oh yeah, that happy place where no one knows your face, your name, your history. A loaf of bread, a flask of wine, a book of verse (or maybe a detective story) and thou beside me singing, only I could do without the "thou singing" part. Can I trade the "thou" for a box of cigars, fresh perfectos would be super, thanks. Ah, Paradise enow.
Mixing Jack London and CSI, I see! OR, is it London, Steinbeck, and CSI? ;D
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