Dropping out of my life
sushi in geneseo tonight. a quiet, fine time, dropping out of my life for a couple of hours, a visit to another life, among strangers. yet the language was the same. i posed as the sushi expert, offering tips, when asked, on the use of chopsticks. chatted with the sushi chef, about sushi, his business, my business, our young children. read the new yorker. admired the budweiser clydesdales live on tv. read facebook. stared curiously at the picture of scores of bears cavorting in the woods. heard a story about a boat loosing its mooring this morning on a nearby lake.
drove home to an excellent set of songs chosen by, i believe, kirsten williamson, on wrur. considered the pleasure of and desire to drop out of one's life, landing quietly on a different plane. i felt it driving back, years ago now, from taking my sister to oregon. alone in the car, out where nobody knew where i was: i could get off the highway, find a room, take a job, drop out, disappear. send a postcard home, "don't worry about me. don't look for me. I'll be in touch." i wondered then if i got this impulse from my father's father, the great disappearer from our family's life, but i reflected then and now that this desire is surely widespread, if not universal, for humankind. despite the rootedness of my family - seven generations on this land, now - surely everyone in america traces our presence here to someone's wanderlust, recent or ancient. someone always ups and leaves, and takes their life with them. few turn back. few write home. don't worry. don't look for them.
[attendant glancing thoughts: how many can say this?: my sister walked the oregon trail. i can. on universality: while i think i am universal, paradigmatic, others tell me i'm not. so i don't know what is universal. when i feel unique, i find i'm not, and vice versa. does my bisexuality lead to my frequent flipping every examined thought over to see the other side, or did that tendency help me find my bisexuality? or is there no relation, no connection? and finally, where am i going to find the artist for my comic, and when will i write it? and can i? the stories of all those lives that could have been. in wyoming, colorado, utah. in antarctica. as a language maven, progressive magazine volunteer, etiqueteer, librarian, life model waitress grocery clerk weaver jeweler, movie theater owner.]
drove home to an excellent set of songs chosen by, i believe, kirsten williamson, on wrur. considered the pleasure of and desire to drop out of one's life, landing quietly on a different plane. i felt it driving back, years ago now, from taking my sister to oregon. alone in the car, out where nobody knew where i was: i could get off the highway, find a room, take a job, drop out, disappear. send a postcard home, "don't worry about me. don't look for me. I'll be in touch." i wondered then if i got this impulse from my father's father, the great disappearer from our family's life, but i reflected then and now that this desire is surely widespread, if not universal, for humankind. despite the rootedness of my family - seven generations on this land, now - surely everyone in america traces our presence here to someone's wanderlust, recent or ancient. someone always ups and leaves, and takes their life with them. few turn back. few write home. don't worry. don't look for them.
[attendant glancing thoughts: how many can say this?: my sister walked the oregon trail. i can. on universality: while i think i am universal, paradigmatic, others tell me i'm not. so i don't know what is universal. when i feel unique, i find i'm not, and vice versa. does my bisexuality lead to my frequent flipping every examined thought over to see the other side, or did that tendency help me find my bisexuality? or is there no relation, no connection? and finally, where am i going to find the artist for my comic, and when will i write it? and can i? the stories of all those lives that could have been. in wyoming, colorado, utah. in antarctica. as a language maven, progressive magazine volunteer, etiqueteer, librarian, life model waitress grocery clerk weaver jeweler, movie theater owner.]