I don’t know why I beg for the hopelessly cheesy soundtrack of violins followed a couple of scenes later by plucky folk, but I do. When sitting on the slick and suddenly expansive wood floor of my empty room, I want to hear the violins in a slow moving tone, pulling out the tears with a gentle guiding tug. Then, a couple of days later when I am driving down the road in my new-life-chapter location, the finger picking will match the sway, the hopefull movement, the wind in my hair as I lean out the window of a moving car, white teeth to the sun, all the world in my eyes.
It all could come with a disc. These moments would be colored with song. Some of them were:
-Last Saturday night a few of my close friends and I grabbed my change jar and floated to the dime arcade. There are no great games here. But they all cost a dime. On a few dollars you can roll the skeeball, shoot hoops, have an air hockey tournament and get a snack at the play-til-you-win candy crane. After gathering our tickets I got a pair of oversized orange sunglasses and an splatting egg ball. But the real prize was a suggestion on the way home from my backseated friend who yelled out over the music that since we were downtown we should pull over and dance. We did, ending the night sweaty with a few onlookers and all of us crowded around Kelly who was impressively deep voiced miming the end of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”.
-Being in my empty room. Yes, I thought violins sitting there on the wood floor.
-Today, hanging out with my little sister, who was skipping school to hang out with me. I encouraged this of course, because I’d hoped we would make sock puppets. I wanted to spend the day making some puppets and rehearsing a show the two of us could put on for our family. Am I an awesome big brother? I didn’t do it because I wanted to be great. I did it because I’ve always wanted to be a muppeteer. And maybe because I thought she’d think it was cool. We made the puppets. “Thriller” again made the show. And Michael Jackson-Sock was smo. King. The sock was getting it. The family laughed.
-Hugging my oldest sister in the driver way. Sometimes we feel the world spinning, and we are thrown by the pull of it. I think my sister’s life has thrown her, and our hug felt like the world could settle down, if just in that moment. Like when I lay down on the floor sometimes and stare at the ceiling. I feel it in my core; everything feels like its slurring around me until all the sudden it all slow-brakes to a halt and settles. Our hug did that.
I am leaving for Panama in a couple of days. Actually the day ater tomorrow I will be there. I don’t really know what’s coming. I feel on edge, really. On the edge of my life about to jump. Like the first time I bungee jumped in New Zealand, having never seen it done, having no idea how it really worked, no idea if the cord would hold, and if it did, to what anchor.
The guy said to me on that Taupo cliff, “Alright now, just walk your toes out over the edge and have a go.”