Tales from the Road: All my lifes a circle. Sometimes I feel like Ive done a lot of things in my life. Sometimes I think Ive done a few things over and over and over again. What always amazes me is to wind up unexpectedly back at the same place Ive been before, under entirely different circumstances. Hours unnumbered behind the wheel gives me time to think about stuff like that. Yesterday, as I motored from Lake George down to Newark Airport with a bus load of retired Taiwanese PhDs, I rambled on by Chatham, NJ, which from 1963 to 1995 was the center of my universe. I tend towards being very nostalgic. Im always fighting to live in the now rather than in the future or the past. When I was 35, I thought that I would ever live anywhere but Chatham. My parents lived a few blocks away, my grandfather lived across town, and near him was my mother in law. My job was across the street from my house, and my kids had some of the same teachers who had taught my wife and me. Life had followed a course and I was content with it. I figured Id work, retire, and hopefully wed get a vacation house up north one day. Theres been many times over the past 19 years that I forgot all about living in New Jersey. My entire focus was on what my kids were doing and building a life for my family in the Adirondacks. I went years without leaving the tri-lakes area of Saranac Lake, Lake Placid, and Tupper Lake. I think I almost forgot Id ever been anywhere else. I would laugh driving through town, because I know almost everyone, or at least recognize them. Friends, customers, kids I drove on the school bus, people I play music with. People I played basketball with. My whole life was again centered on a small piece of real estate.My kids pretty much took root in the area, and most days I see at least one of them or some of my grandchildren around town. Then some years ago, my life took some unexpected twists and I find myself again out on the road. It was not discontent or wanderlust that drove me to travel again.... far from it: I was very content with what my life had become. I loved my work as a builder. I had a little piece of heaven on a trout river, horses, goats, pigs, geese. Id cleared several acres of forest land, dug the tree stumps with my backhoe, and amended the soil. I never wanted to leave Goldsmith Rd. for more than a few hours. Never one to join cliques, Id found myself feeling I was on the inside of the local circle of musicians, although Ive generally declined when the communal bowl was passed around. Then it seemed like a whirlwind picked me up and took me off to Oz. I find myself wondering how much say we really have in how our life unfolds. One has said we make our plans, and God laughs. At 56, find myself going round in the same circles it did when I was 19. The more things change, the more they remain the same. Conversely, Ive had to learn to loosen my grip on what I hold most dearly to my heart. That hasnt come easy. Theres a clock, ticking just behind my left ear, and it gets louder with each passing day. Am I being afforded the opportunity to revisit the scenes of my youth before heading on to my eternal destination, or am I getting one last fling before being sequestered to a static existence where memories and not experiences will have to sustain me? I have no way of knowing, but Im sure curious to find out. youtube/watch?v=9Tmhldk2M70
Posted on: Thu, 09 Oct 2014 11:21:42 +0000
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