A few minutes ago I was sitting in the garage painting door hinges while a quiet rain fell on Griffith Ave. It was quitting time, and folks were making their final odyssey of the Monday-thru-Friday life, headed home for their pizza delivery or left-overs ... and maybe a beer or three.
The day never seemed to come today, no patch of light broke through. It was still-born, remorseful. Subsequently, the zest and freedom so natural to a Friday evening commute was gone, and people were left to coast at 35 mph - traveling through the bleak, slippery cold. Driving: a great American freedom reduced and ritualized into boredom, frustration or tedium.
So I watched people driving by wondering if they actually get excited about the weekends on days like this. It's supposed to rain here all weekend, 100% chance. That's enough to dampen my spirits.
Sure, somewhere there will be a high school basketball game tonight, a gym buttery and bright. Basketball: winter's humble carnivals for places like Kentucky. If you're a student, parent, sibling, or long-time fan, it's a spark of fire in an otherwise dying winter.
But what do you do when you don't have a team to root for, a kid to watch, a girl to chase. You watch television. You let the insanity of violence and the allure of beauty dangle before your eyes. You soak up an evening of laughs, chaos and sex. You let your mind be manipulated and teased while you sit around on your couch motionless, waiting for sleep to overtake you.
Or you sit at home; you paint door hinges and watch the community drive by ... one by one in their SUV's and Chevy trucks.
Wes
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