Wednesday, September 22, 2010


I used to tell people that I was a writer.

I would tell them what I do for money and then I would add

"But I’m really a writer who just hasn't been paid for it yet."

It seems that I will be forced to stop using that line. I have not written anything that did not pertain to work... well, perhaps the occasional email... but nothing personal, nothing creative for quite some time.

So now I must say "I'm an undisciplined man with intentions to do a great many things."

Today we were talking here in the office (where I spend Monday through Thursday every week, at least for now) about a fellow named Tommy. Tommy has worked at this site for over 30 years... and the place has only been functioning for 26 years. This is what he does. This is what he thinks about. This is what he dreams about. This is his life. The folks on site say that Tommy has forgotten more about this site than anyone else on this site currently knows. If you want to know where it is, Call Tommy. If you want to know how it works, Call Tommy. If you want to know how to fix it, Call Tommy.

Tommy called me on the phone yesterday and was asking me when the eyeglasses salesman was going to be on site next so that he could get his glasses repaired. Tommy is on medical leave at the moment because he has a strained tendon in one of his arms which is the latest in a long history of medical conditions. Tommy had a heart attack here on site back about 6 years ago and had several bypasses, but instead of retiring, he just switched jobs.

Tommy likes to talk if he has an audience. he had me captive on the telephone and so he started talking.

Since he was out for leave he thought that he would just swing by the doctor’s office for an angiogram during which he found out that he has 4 blockages in his already weak and stitched up heart. One is 50%, one is 70%, one about 80% and the other is a complete 100% blockage... Wow... I just let him keep talking for a while and he rambled about the doctors and what they were trying to make him do, and about the nitroglycerin that he carries in a vial around his neck, and about how he was trying to get the doctors to clear him to come back to work....


Yep. Trying to come back to work.

Screw that.

My boss and I were sitting here talking about Tommy and his desire to come back to work and I said "If that were me I would be buying a plane ticket to Australia or Argentina or better yet learning to fly the plane" the conversation caused me to travel in my minds eye to all of the places that I have never seen and to do all of the things I never have done... And at the end of my reverie it made me stop and wonder...

Why do I settle?
here in this comfortable position
passing time,
trading it for money,
buying and selling,
eating and excreting,
sleeping and waking
to do it again?

On this lark, if I were dying
what would I truly do?

Perhaps I should get up from my desk, drive to the airport, buy a plane ticket to New Zealand and get my license as a skydiving instructor.

I can't say that I'm not tempted.

It's the equinox today; the days will now get markedly shorter until December 21.

Fall always has me thinking like this.

Some people want to nest and get cozy
and for some reason

I want to fly