Two Horizons
I drove through the evening passed places I knew. Since I've been away at school, my brother Aaron's been using Colita and has seen no reason to buy her insurance, or to give her an oil change for that matter. It felt good to be inside of her again. Although she was running differently and sounded like a podracer from Episode I, she was still that protective capsule that I had known so long ago. Nevermind that her ashtray was broken, or that the windshield wiper control was snapped off. This was the driver's seat throughout my teens. So many things had been felt on those vinyl seats, now cracked by the sun. So many passengers sat in that empty space next to me.
I drove to my old high school, Patrick Henry. The football field and surrounding track have been completely redone since I graduated 5 years ago. It's one of those rubbery tracks with the perfectly painted lines now. I used to run on it when it was just dirt. I guess atheltics programs are one thing that are never denied funding. I took up my privileges as an alumni and passed through the fence to run the track as the sun went down. The evening is beautiful in its final breath.
The San Diego skyline at dusk. One horizon is darkened with shades of cool tones, mostly blues and violets. The other is lit with warmer colors where the sun is going down. Between the two horizons, there is a haze that causes the colors to smear together like a vast oil painting. It's hard to keep your eyes on the road.
Despite my love/hate with San Diego, you can't deny the sheer beauty of this place in the summertime. It's all the more beautified when it's the place you grew up. A place that contains your old haunts, your most loved people, and your uninsured truck.
Have you ever driven by a familiar place in your hometown, and had a memory attached to it that replays in your mind like a movie? Just for a quick second as you drive by?
Part II:
Despite the fact that my pick-up is uninsured, Guiness and I took her in for an oil change yesterday at Sears. Taking your car for an oil change when there's a long wait is always a good excuse to goof off and waste time doing shit you normally wouldn't do. Since you're without a vehicle, you're sort of stuck going to places that are within walking distance of said autoshop. Luckily Sears is annexed to a mall, and luckily I've had a strange fixation with malls lately. We walked through Parkway Plaza, committing our usual outlandish mischief.
Example: walk up to a group of girls and in a Keanu Reeves voice say, "how's it goin' ladies?" However, it must be said with another person simultaneously to create the Bill&Ted effect. It's also fun to pretend you and your brother are a gay couple (Bill&Ted voices are optional when pretending to be gay, though a fun nuance).
I picked up Jason Mraz's new album, "Mr.A-Z." I always buy music at the mall, even though I know I'm paying way too much for it. So I picked it up, and I actually really enjoy it. I've hated Jason as a pop star. I never liked his pop songs as they were always tainted by my knowledge that they were originally written for an acoustic guitar in a coffeeshop setting. This time around he was writing songs specifically to make a pop album, so I was a little more open to it. It's a much more creative endeavor than his first album.
Oil changes, malls, fast-food and pop songs. I turned to Guiness on the way home and said, "I feel like this is the summer of 2005." I love making obvious yet illuminating statements like that. It was illuminating to me at least.
It is the summer of 2005, and things are changing rapidly. My stepmom Denise sat us down for a talk yesterday, and told us that she's officially moving out and breaking up with my Dad. She's already found a new place within the neighborhood, and her set date for moving in is August 8th. The relationship between Dad and Denise is officially over. Dad can't afford our new home on his own, so he'll have to sell the house within a few months.
I'm at home, but the other two Nick's are absent. Two of my best friends in the world, John and Tishia, are coming to visit me in 2 weeks. I still have an English paper to write, and a handful of new songs to record.
There are two horizons. One is dark and one is light. But this is the evening's last breath.
Love always,
Nick
I drove to my old high school, Patrick Henry. The football field and surrounding track have been completely redone since I graduated 5 years ago. It's one of those rubbery tracks with the perfectly painted lines now. I used to run on it when it was just dirt. I guess atheltics programs are one thing that are never denied funding. I took up my privileges as an alumni and passed through the fence to run the track as the sun went down. The evening is beautiful in its final breath.
The San Diego skyline at dusk. One horizon is darkened with shades of cool tones, mostly blues and violets. The other is lit with warmer colors where the sun is going down. Between the two horizons, there is a haze that causes the colors to smear together like a vast oil painting. It's hard to keep your eyes on the road.
Despite my love/hate with San Diego, you can't deny the sheer beauty of this place in the summertime. It's all the more beautified when it's the place you grew up. A place that contains your old haunts, your most loved people, and your uninsured truck.
Have you ever driven by a familiar place in your hometown, and had a memory attached to it that replays in your mind like a movie? Just for a quick second as you drive by?
Part II:
Despite the fact that my pick-up is uninsured, Guiness and I took her in for an oil change yesterday at Sears. Taking your car for an oil change when there's a long wait is always a good excuse to goof off and waste time doing shit you normally wouldn't do. Since you're without a vehicle, you're sort of stuck going to places that are within walking distance of said autoshop. Luckily Sears is annexed to a mall, and luckily I've had a strange fixation with malls lately. We walked through Parkway Plaza, committing our usual outlandish mischief.
Example: walk up to a group of girls and in a Keanu Reeves voice say, "how's it goin' ladies?" However, it must be said with another person simultaneously to create the Bill&Ted effect. It's also fun to pretend you and your brother are a gay couple (Bill&Ted voices are optional when pretending to be gay, though a fun nuance).
I picked up Jason Mraz's new album, "Mr.A-Z." I always buy music at the mall, even though I know I'm paying way too much for it. So I picked it up, and I actually really enjoy it. I've hated Jason as a pop star. I never liked his pop songs as they were always tainted by my knowledge that they were originally written for an acoustic guitar in a coffeeshop setting. This time around he was writing songs specifically to make a pop album, so I was a little more open to it. It's a much more creative endeavor than his first album.
Oil changes, malls, fast-food and pop songs. I turned to Guiness on the way home and said, "I feel like this is the summer of 2005." I love making obvious yet illuminating statements like that. It was illuminating to me at least.
It is the summer of 2005, and things are changing rapidly. My stepmom Denise sat us down for a talk yesterday, and told us that she's officially moving out and breaking up with my Dad. She's already found a new place within the neighborhood, and her set date for moving in is August 8th. The relationship between Dad and Denise is officially over. Dad can't afford our new home on his own, so he'll have to sell the house within a few months.
I'm at home, but the other two Nick's are absent. Two of my best friends in the world, John and Tishia, are coming to visit me in 2 weeks. I still have an English paper to write, and a handful of new songs to record.
There are two horizons. One is dark and one is light. But this is the evening's last breath.
Love always,
Nick