01-03 - Amblin'

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    A day or three in the life... - CH

            

    I'd caught a ride from the southern border and the driver dropped me in pLeytown.  Stepping out into the building 

    heat of the day I saw Sidd's Bar & Grill in the shimmery light.  I hadn't eaten since home so it looked pretty

    good.  Dusty and dry I stepped in for coffee and the all day breakfast special.  Elbowing a seat on the far

    side of the room, I settled in and saw a cluster of friends celebrating the town's founding.  Their voices

    hummed like a soft machine.  The hum of friends in close talk. The hum of the town's good character and  many

    accomplishments that led to this founding day birthday party. A plate of migas and some coffee later I sat

    listening, offering little bits here and there with folks I knew and those I came to meet.  The day wore on and so

    did the party with rounds of beer, champagne and abysnthe flowing freely amid laughter and  dancing the

     onigokko.  The festive group grew to merry intensity, dancing crazily while shouting "Tarzan drank

    Absynthe!" and "Absynthe makes the heart grow fonder!" From the back booth I woozily listened to stories of

    volcano plumbing and mountain retreats.  It must have been sometime around then I had an absythne dream

     about my forgotten dreams in the lost and found bin.  It was lost again as I awoke with my head on the table and

    Sidd sweeping up strewn hats and broken glasses. 

            

    A whole day had passed to the founding celebration.  Light was slipping pink under the clouds as I made my way

    down the street to the train station.  Two old timers sat near the  store playing catch, back and forth;

    "Marking time, virtual time, no time, stop time, good timing, time on my paws, time out".... I kept walking with

    their game behind me now, tossing words back and forth, "time out, time of my life, time flies, pass time,

    overtime, two time, night time, half time." Twenty bucks of supplies later I left the store and heard them like it

     never stopped, "record time, fine time, spring time, on time, meantime."  One foot in front of the other to the

    train station, almost walking double time, I heard their voices lifting on the wind, "spend time, lose time, find

    time, dinner time" and then I was just in time to catch that train.

            

    The coffee is usually pretty good on this run so I headed for the dining car.  From my window seat I noticed a

    couple of friends talking about gifts and profiteering.  They shared openly and freely and partrf with hugs.  Coffee

    in hand I watched the windowscape and drifted in the clackety clack when I heard a small  melody, the one

    over many weeks loudly then faintly, softly then clackety loudly ..... RrwaaaaccKK, RrwaaaaccKK, the song of

    the gecko.  Mile after mile, unbidden, the gecko occasionally RrwaaaaccKKed with the tracks.  My dulled gaze

    shifted to a group of Dutchmen trouping into the car with  Ruth while the talk ebbed and flowed around beer and

    wine.  I dozed to the rhythym and sometimes a jolt.... RrwaaaaccKK. 


    The stars shone brightly as I stood to stretch and ambled to the plush seating car ahead.  A poker game in one

    corner and a few nightowls in the other.  The nightowls had the time to be timeless and explore that maybe

    the perception of time is not true, that time is not perceived at all, that things wouldn't be necessary if time

    didn't exist, that perceived change occurs in time, that there is a linear flowing of directional time, that time is a

    construct, that time evolved after the big bang.  They had the time to ask is Being's time the same before and after the

    big bang?, or can someone convince you of timelesness, or can you step to a right angle of time, like stepping

    off the conveyor belt as time continues to roll, like non-linear memory, like non-linear dreams as clues to reality

    with attachments entwined with time... and then my time ran out ... the train was at my stop.

            

    The night had passed to morning in an opalescent dawning, drawing me to wander so I walked and then walked

    some more.  I walked through a open pasture and found a friendly storyteller and several friends

    discussing blind faith.  I tipped my hat because that was a great band but as I passed I heard them say the

     theories behind religious teachings don't mesh with everyday life so how can we extract what is valuable for daily

    life? Perhaps through experiment and theory it was said, perhaps a more scientific attitude in spirituality would help. 

    Perhaps a fresh hypothesis, maybe a combination of faith, critique and hypothesis.  I rambled along, walking

    farther, stretching my thoughts to the sky about faith, doubt, critique, hypothesis, love and devotion. 

            

    I sat by a stream and pulled out the bread and cheese I got at the store.  I imagined those old fellows still

    playing catch while eating and lazily watching the water. I remembered a talk about the nature of things and that

    seeing the nature of things is enough.  I remembered and then I see that seeing.  I can be in the stream and not

    get wet.  I can be in the stream and go swimming.  It had grown into a fine warm day so I took off my shoes and

    socks and waded in.  I walked a long way down the stream, thinking and daydreaming and then crossed to the

    other bank.  I heard laughter in the pasture along the western shore.  I turned that way and walked some more.

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