People of the Moment

     "It's not enough," she whispered.

     "I can give you right now," I started.  "I can give you this moment.  I have no idea what forever holds but I know that I am here right now."

     "It's not enough," she repeated quietly.

     "There is no promise of tomorrow or forever but there is now.  All I'm asking for is this minute.  I would love for you to forget about everything else and just give me now.  Can you do that?  Can you let me keep you company for a little while?"

     I had watched promises of forever fall apart in a few years, sometimes a few weeks.  As long as I was willing to accept the consequences of my actions I found that the moment rarely disappointed.

     I always seemed to lose the moment when I chased forever.  I became complacent when I knew something would always be there.  I had watched people chase the big picture and ignore the little things.  The thought process seemed to be that the overall end justified the means.  I had watched the compromises come back to haunt them in the end.

     People I know that live for the moment appreciate each and every second like it were their last.  They ask themselves the question, 'If everything were to end for me right now and someone were to judge me for my last few moments how would I be remembered?' 

     Big picture people are surprised when couples break up over what looks to be an innocuous mistake from the outside.  People who live for the moment see all of the small mistakes that lead to the final break up.

     People of the moment move with the knowledge that the future is uncertain but you should prepare just in case you make it and things work out.

     "I think I deserve the promise of forever," she said.  "I think that this would be cheapening things.  I think by avoiding forever you are avoiding building a future with someone.  I need to know that I can count on you for that future.  It's not that I can't keep you company for a a little while.  I don't want to.

     "If you can promise me forever," she said resolutely, "I can give you this moment."

     I covered my mouth with my hand and stared at the table.  I could see the flickering candle through my empty wine glass.  The moon drew my eyes toward the patio beyond the French doors.

     The moment was gone and so was I.  We were no match for her forever.  I had accepted the consequences of my actions but as I drove home alone in silence I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

Ramble

     "What the fuck?" Asked Derich.  "You were just going to let me ramble?  You were going to just let me bitch about having a job?"
     "You were venting," I responded waving my hands in the air.  "I wanted you to get what was bothering you off your chest."
     "This," he said wagging his finger, "this is the shit I'm talking about.  You are deep in your own head, my man."  He was now pacing back and forth.
     "You need to do one of two things now.  One call that friend in California and start writing or two call your boy in Hartford and get on that finisher job."
     "Finishing job."  I clarified
     "What?"
     "Finishing job.   This is the job with which I had hoped to finish my career.  I would have worked at my former job for the next five years and then go into my next gig with a certain level of gravitas due to my age and career history."
     "Whatever..."
     "Wait a minute.  You were just telling me how you were happy to have some time to yourself but I have to get a job right away?  I don't get it.  I'm going to be ok, for a little while at least.  Then something good will happen.  It always does."
     He sat on the couch and looked out the window of my living room.  The late September sun was streaming through the window.  It was still warm out but strangely you could tell it was going to be a rough winter.
     "You are a better man than I am."  He said quietly.  "As much as I was hoping to get the axe and the hush money I need the job.  We're not dying but we're in deep."
     I knew things were tight but opted not to say anything.  As loud as Derich was he still had his private spaces.
    "I get it.  Look at my house.  Look at the way I live.  I can take the hit for a while and be ok.  I didn't think I would still be here at this age.  I didn't think I'd live passed 40.  I look at every day as a gift.  I look at every moment as a new challenge that I can conquer.
     "I have an idea of what I need and what I have to do to make it happen.  I'm going to be all right.  So are you."
    "What do you mean?"  He said as the sun beamed off of his face.
    "You asked why I let you ramble.  I can point you in a specific direction and you get there with no problem or I can let you just go on until you find it yourself.  If you find your own way you can figure out the mistakes to avoid and you can pass that knowledge on to people who need it."
     "What the fuck..."
     "We all have different paths.  This is me rambling on mine and I'm going to be all right."

Basketball

     "And then," seethed Derich, "these clowns told me that they were actually EXPANDING my division!"
     We were getting together for the first time in a while.  His summer plans didn't quite work out.
     It had been a long couple of months.  Derich's company had decided he was far too valuable of an asset to let go.  They had expanded his division, increased his responsibilities, and given him more people to manage.  The only part missing was the salary increase.
    "Oh, Derich," he said mocking his bosses speech pattern, "once the Q4 earnings are out we'll have a better idea of how to take care of you.  We took a beating the last few quarters but we know you'll help us turn it around."
     "God damn it!!"  He continued in his own voice.  "I was doing just enough to make sure they would walk me out!  Jacobson was killing himself so I was sure they were going to keep him."
     "Who is Jacobson?" I asked while he paced back in forth in my living room.
     "He's the other team lead.  They hate him.  He doesn't play basketball during lunch.  He's in early.  He leaves late.  He eats lunch at his desk.  He does good work but he's not a team guy."    He looked out the window while the sun set on my porch.
     "We used to tell him to loosen up."
     "So what team did Jacobson get?" I asked out of curiosity even though I already knew the answer.
     "He was the first one they walked out.  At 3:50 they told him they had a 4:00 meeting about expanding the team leadership position.  By 4:05 they were walking him out the door.
     "They called me in at 4:15 and I was ready, man.  I had already told Karen that we could probably coast the month of August and some of September.  I sat there with a big smile on my face and then they told me that they were giving me most of Jacobson's team."
     I just put my face in my hands.
     "So let me see if I can get this right," I said trying not to laugh out loud.  "You put your feet up on your desk, play the occasional game of basketball with the boss, follow the team plan and they promoted you.  This Jacobson guy doubles down on the work, eats lunch at his desk, BUT he's not a team player so they walked him out?"
     I shook my head.  Derich looked out the window as the silent truth blanketed the room.
     "Blah, blah, blah.  Enough about me," he said changing the subject.  You were supposed to have that meeting about your job today.  How'd it go?"
     "Well," I said smiling.  "I don't play basketball."

What Type Of Man

     It was March 2003.  I stood in the driveway of the exclusive dealership waiting for a ride from someone in my office.  I had just been screamed at for not providing a car that was up to the client's standards.
     The conversation included comments like 'Do you know who I am?' & 'Do you know how much I made last year?'  None of that really mattered.  As I listened to this person vent I realized that all they had was their money.  I hated being yelled at but I felt bad because this person felt their money put me beneath them.
     I decided that wasn't the type of man I wanted to be even if I was successful at the job.  I tried to picture in my head what I wanted.  Yes I did want a nicer car but I wanted it for safety and reliability.
     I was driving an hour fifteen minutes each way to work everyday.  I had seen my share of accidents made worse by cars that couldn't cope with the collision.  I didn't need to have something nice.  I needed to have something safe and reliable.
     My flip phone rang with a number I didn't recognize.
     "Hello?" I answered with a half question.
     "Hi," said an extremely pleasant voice.  "It's Julie from The Yard."
     I took a deep breath.  Julie was a sweet quiet little red head who could drink most of us under the table, dance all night, and still make it to work 15 minutes before her shift was supposed to start.  This was exactly the voice I needed to hear.
     "Hey, Jules.  What's going on?"
     "I have kind of a strange question for you."
     "Shoot."
     "Are you seeing anyone right now?"
     I felt the slick smile cut across my face.
     "Why no, Jules.  I'm not what's on your mind?"  I could barely contain my enthusiasm.  It's one thing when you spend time chasing after someone and they finally say yes.  The world is a completely different place when you get a call out of the blue and someone expresses interest.
     "Oh that's awesome," she started matching my enthusiasm, "because I have a friend who I think would just love you."
     The 'I have a friend' speech is almost as ambitious as the 'I Have A Dream' speech.  I was going to say no.  I had a preconceived notion of what this girl was going to look like.  I had a thought that this was going to be a disaster.  Then I took a deep breath.
     Jules may not have been interested but she thought I was good enough to introduce to one of her friends.  My momentary lapse of enthusiasm was gone.
     It was time for a shake up.  Up until then I had a basic idea of what I wanted in life but there was no clear direction.  Why not take a chance?
     "What night works for you?" I asked remembering I was happy someone expressed interest.
     "Tomorrow at The Yard.  We'll meet you there around 8."
     "Sounds like a plan."
     I hung up the phone as my ride arrived.  I decided not to prejudge.  I decided to take a chance.  Before the phone call someone was just yelling at me because they had prejudged who I was without knowing me.  Who was I to do that to someone else?  That wasn't the type of man I wanted to be.

Fog

     I was coasting. I was coasting in life.  Going to sleep early and drinking the proper amount of water had paid off.  It wasn't just something for drinking too much on a random weeknight.  Drinking enough water and getting enough sleep had changed my general mindset.  There was minimal fog and even less pain.  It was going to be a good day.  I knew there wasn't much time left at the job so I had to make a decision.

     I decided that they had to fire me.  I wouldn't walk out.  Walking out wouldn't cut it.  I couldn't just quit.  In my mind you don't quit.  You stop doing things that don't work for you.  You refocus your energy on things that move you forward.  You do these things but you don't quit.

     I could have crumbled when they told me that after 10 years I didn't deserve to be there but, I didn't.  I could have broken when they told me that I was (and had always been in their eyes) unfit for the job but, I didn't.

     I realized that these comments were made by a person lashing out and making choices based on fear.  I was ok.  My mind was clear.  The goal was to hold on to the job for as long as I could.  Rather than throw a wrench in the system I would do my best and make it work for me as long as it could.

     Going to sleep early and drinking the proper amount of water had paid off.  There was minimal fog.  Coasting wouldn't cut it any more.  It was time to stop before I ran aground.  The fog was dissipating and the path was becoming clear.

Day 114 - Happy Birthday

     "Did you just leave another birthday message?" the kid asked with his coffee in hand.
     "Yes," I said stepping out of the quiet room of the office.  Every other room had walls seemingly made of paper.  If you sat quietly while there was a meeting going on in the adjoining room you could hear almost everything down to the typing on the keyboard.
     I had a friend who had access to the mother's room in the office.  When we were sure it wasn't busy I would swoop in and record a song for a friend and send it via text.  I did this when I didn't have time driving in in the morning.  I liked to wait until afternoon because sometimes the morning voice didn't cut it.
     Lately I was so deflated in the evenings that they would know my heart just wasn't into it.
     "That's nice.  I only have a few people who remember my birthday," he said taking a swig of his afternoon pick me up.  "You must get a shitload of calls and texts on your birthday."
     "Funny you should mention that," I said watching the blue bar slowly crawl across my screen.  "I had about five people who reached out to say happy birthday this year."
     "Five?" he said choking back a cough.  "You leave two to three messages a week.  I think I've heard you call three people in one day.  How does that happen?"
     "I've been off twit/face/sound/space for a while so people tend to forget.  Most people wait for a hint from social media then they chime in.  The only place I might be lower on the totem pole might be here."
     "That's some sad shit," he said leaning against the wall.  "It's almost like you're a second class citizen.  When is your birthday anyway?"
     "It was a few months ago.  I was actually at a wedding with people who had no idea.  I had given them hints a few weeks before but no one caught on.  It was a wedding.  I didn't think much of it.  My Mom and my sister remembered.  That's all that mattered.
     "How's the coffee?" I asked hoping to change the subject.
     "Almost as shitty as the people who don't call or write to you on your birthday.  Well happy belated birthday."
     "Thank you and happy birthday to you, too."  He looked surprised.  "Don't be shocked.  It's this weekend.  They post the office birthdays in the kitchen near the coffee machine.  They feel it will increase office morale."
     "I never noticed it.  Thanks."  Said the kid as he walked back to his desk.
     I had one more message to send.  I scrolled back through a few years of texts to see if they had wished me a happy birthday in the past.  I saw that I was always the wellwisher.
     I decided to just send a quick HBD message.  After that last conversation I was so deflated that if I tried to sing they would know my heart just wasn't into it.

Day 113 - Responsibilities

     "I remember asking my Dad for something.  I don't remember exactly what it was but I know it had a bit of a price tag on it," I said as the car negotiated the curved exit ramp with ease.
     "Turn right at the light, then when you hit the first stop sign turn left.
     "I do remember that he didn't say no.  I was fifteen so he knew I wasn't going to take no for an answer any way.  I thought the money would just come from somewhere.  I didn't know any better.  His answer, though," I paused "his answer was even better than no."
     "The left right here?"  V asked as we got to the stop sign.
     "Yes."
     The night air felt good.  Had it been twenty years ago this ride would have been made at 2:30 in the morning.  I was surprised to look at the dashboard and see that it was only 9:30 at night.
     This made me happy.  If I drank the right amount of water and got to bed within the hour there was a possibility that I wouldn't be dealing with a raging hangover in the morning.
     "I remember saying something like 'I'm part of this family so I should have a say in things!'  He just looked at me and said 'You can have a say.  I have no problem with that.  The only thing you have to do is come up with enough money to cover the mortgage, pay the phone bill, electric bill, gas bill, and put food on the table for the month.  Once you are able to shoulder that responsibility you can have a say.'"
     "Sounds like a smart man," she said.
     "He was," I said reflecting.  "He was.  I didn't have the answer.  I just stood there dumbfounded.  That is when I came up with the first plan."
     "Speaking of plans, when were you planning to tell me which house is yours?"
     "Sorry.  It's the little brown colonial on the left."
     "Plans Change," whispered a voice in the back of my head as we pulled into my driveway.  I sat up a little bit straighter in my seat.  I wasn't jolted sober but I was jolted alert.  I remembered the last time I had a rock solid plan.  I remembered how my feet were trapped in stone while the machines hammered my soul into the floor.  I remembered that plans borne of pain play out poorly.
     "Are you going to be ok?"  She asked, noticing my back was a little bit straighter.
"I'm not going to read about you being found dead in your house a few days from now, am I?  You're not going to fall asleep on your porch are you?"
     "You could always come up and tuck me in," I said feeling the slick smile cut across my face, "BUT this wasn't a hook up call."
     She put her head down and smiled.
     "You're right," she said still smiling.  "This was not a hook up call.  Sleep well you beautiful black man."
     "Safe travels.  Shoot me a text when you get home so I know you're ok."
     "You've got it," she said with a little salute.  "and keep me in mind if you decide to leave this job.  Sorry about your kitty."
     "Thank you," I said stepping out of the car.
     The little convertible roared off into the darkness.  The night air felt good.  Twenty years ago I would have been worried about a raging hangover.  I knew I was going to get a good night's sleep.  I knew I would wake up the next day and have no problem with the mortgage, the phone bill, the electric bill, the gas bill, and putting food on the table.  It's amazing how time and good direction can teach you to shoulder the necessary responsibilities.