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I had a dream that no one else could see.
Sep. 19th, 2004 05:20 pmYesterday was a good day.
[Pause for commercial interruption: in my high school english class, my teacher did an interesting job of making us aware of a lot of literature and why it was historically and culturally relevant, without us necessarily having to read it. And I remember on the topic of James Fenimore Cooper, what we were told to remember was that the main character (Natty Bumpo?) was "a good man." That was our catchphrase for months. ____ ____ is a good man. And now, a dozen years later, I still think of that phrase. Including just now when I wrote "a good day".]
One of the highlights of yesterday was riding up the lakeside bike path from Grand to Granville. It was a little crowded in spots, but not too bad the further north and the later in the afternoon it got. In the seven miles from start to finish, I saw many interesting people but only one has stayed with me to today.
He was tall and skinny and in his early 40s and wearing tight jeans and an acid wash jean button-down shirt that was also tight. He had it unbuttoned down to his sternum. He wore a red bandana around his neck. He had on sunglasses that may have been blublockers. He wear a red headband, of terrycloth material. He was wearing roller skates. Not roller blades -- roller skates, with four fat wheels. And he was wearing a walkman, but the headphones were big round grey foam chunky pieces, not delicate in your ears like most folks have these days. In other words, he appeared to have skated through a wormhole that started in 1984 and arrived here in 2004.
But what I kept fixating on was this: was that a special occasion outfit? That he pulls out on the weekend, like a costume, being retro or wanting to re-experience his own personal golden years? Or has he been wearing similar clothes nearly every day for the past 20 years?
I'm leaning towards the latter.
Also, when I got dressed yesterday, I wore my 'lucky red underwear'. Which is sort of a joke I have with myself everytime I put them on, because I can never actually say I've "gotten lucky" while wearing them.
Last night changed it all. And like Esther Williams, I really had a ball.
And then this morning at home was rocking. I'm a lucky man.
[Pause for commercial interruption: in my high school english class, my teacher did an interesting job of making us aware of a lot of literature and why it was historically and culturally relevant, without us necessarily having to read it. And I remember on the topic of James Fenimore Cooper, what we were told to remember was that the main character (Natty Bumpo?) was "a good man." That was our catchphrase for months. ____ ____ is a good man. And now, a dozen years later, I still think of that phrase. Including just now when I wrote "a good day".]
One of the highlights of yesterday was riding up the lakeside bike path from Grand to Granville. It was a little crowded in spots, but not too bad the further north and the later in the afternoon it got. In the seven miles from start to finish, I saw many interesting people but only one has stayed with me to today.
He was tall and skinny and in his early 40s and wearing tight jeans and an acid wash jean button-down shirt that was also tight. He had it unbuttoned down to his sternum. He wore a red bandana around his neck. He had on sunglasses that may have been blublockers. He wear a red headband, of terrycloth material. He was wearing roller skates. Not roller blades -- roller skates, with four fat wheels. And he was wearing a walkman, but the headphones were big round grey foam chunky pieces, not delicate in your ears like most folks have these days. In other words, he appeared to have skated through a wormhole that started in 1984 and arrived here in 2004.
But what I kept fixating on was this: was that a special occasion outfit? That he pulls out on the weekend, like a costume, being retro or wanting to re-experience his own personal golden years? Or has he been wearing similar clothes nearly every day for the past 20 years?
I'm leaning towards the latter.
Also, when I got dressed yesterday, I wore my 'lucky red underwear'. Which is sort of a joke I have with myself everytime I put them on, because I can never actually say I've "gotten lucky" while wearing them.
Last night changed it all. And like Esther Williams, I really had a ball.
And then this morning at home was rocking. I'm a lucky man.
