Monday, July 26, 2010



I don’t think that any of my internal struggles are exclusive to me. As far as what is different about me and mine from you and any of yours is how we deal with them and the results that spring from our efforts. It is difficult to see how our individual circumstances may relate to one another. Maybe there is something in what I write here that will be of some help someone in here. I am not sure that there is, but there could be, I just don’t know.

Woke up and went out to Hutch’s place on Sunday morning which was an adventure in itself. We arrange to ‘meet halfway’, with my catching the bus out to Livonia and meeting him at ‘my McDonald’s’ and we go from there. The adventure began with the discovery that the first bus out west only goes as far west as far as Outer Drive on Plymouth, which is nowhere near my destination. I was out early to go and sit in the restaurant and utilize the wifi until the time for our meet up came. Since I was not aware that the bus would not drop me where I intended to go, I told the driver of my predicament and he issued me a customer service transfer, allowing me to continue on the same line to Livonia. Being that it was Sunday and the nearby party store was not open for me to get more change for the additional bus fare, that was a small ‘solid’ that the driver was able to do for me. Little did I know that it would be two hours before the bus would arrive, giving me plenty of time for reflection on exactly ‘where I was going’, not only literally but where I was going, metaphorically.

The sky was a bit overcast and I was hoping that I would be able to catch the bus before it started raining. The weather forecast being one of the things that I haven’t kept up with, getting word of it in bits and pieces, so I am only aware of there being a constant threat of rain at any particular time. It would not rain and checking the Nebraska Cornhusker watch that I was given as a X-Mas gift two years ago to me by Nebraska, I guessed that I would have a full hour to wait for the next bus. I ended up being off by an hour and since I did not have the foresight to include Hutch’s cell phone number in my cell phone’s address book, I could not call him and let him know of my situation. Though I was not sure that he would have the patience to wait for me, I decided to go out anyway, eschewing the 2-plus mile walk it would have been for me to return to my father’s house. Besides, I enjoyed being outside in the still dozing city. Moments of quiet time is what allows for clear, almost meditative thinking to take place and I wanted to take advantage of the moment to do just that.

After getting off of the bus and crossing Plymouth I stopped in a dingy looking motel. I did think about calling it ‘seedy’ but there are truly ‘seedy’ motels and though this was close, it was not one of them to me. No doubt, some of the activities that took place inside of it would meet the average person’s standard of ‘seedy-ness’, but not mine and definitely not since I would go into the office and ask the likely owner-operator, a tired looking man of sub-Asian descent, about the weekly rate at the motel. One hundred and seventy-five dollars was my answer and that was about what I figured. Had inquired of a few places in Omaha of what they charged and they had higher rates. But given that I was prolly calling places that were more legitimately affiliated with providing a guest experience than the ‘guest experience’ that this one does, I wasn’t at all surprised.

Right now, I am worried. That is something that I am not accustomed to, being worried to the point where if anyone were to have asked, ‘How are you doing,’ that the word even comes to mind. There are a lot of things that I am concerned about right now and it seems that each single item has a ‘last but not least’ quality to it as it leads to another concern. It all adds up to a level of uncertainty that makes me want to scrub the entire idea of going out west. Going out to Hutch's would mean I would have to hear and face some uncomfortable things, some of which I will address here. That I do not agree with at all of what he will have (and did) to say matters less to me. I feel that having heard his opinion and my being faced to deal with stating my reasoning not only to him but to myself and ‘spirits and the saints’ of the universe that I would eventually find something to ease my discomfort with my decision to go to Nebraska.

Needless to say that did not happen but it was good to have a look-see at many of the pieces to my ‘discontent’. As to what makes up my ‘discontent’, I first must explain the history of that word in my life. It came to me either after watching the Jack Lemmon-Lee Remick classic, ‘The Days Of Wine And Roses’ or because of the alliteration of the Blair Brown show, ‘The Days And Nights Of Molly Dodd’, to use the phrase ‘The Era Of My Discontent’ to describe my teenage years. I was never that unhappy but I did feel that I had more in common with ‘James At Sixteen’ than I ever did ‘Michael’ from ‘Good Times’. For me to use the word ‘discontent’ with any description of my state of mind it means that I am being shadowed by a combination of confusion and angst. To have this feeling instead of the optimism at the start of a new direction for me instead of the optimism that I am accustomed to having, the enthusiasm that I am more than eager to share with others is VERY unsettling.

A lot of it has to do with very concrete issues and they are things that I have no direct control over anymore. One of them is one that I have shared here many times, my cases with the FOC of Wayne County. Even though I have all my orders signed off since June, the orders, they still have not been forwarded to the Social Security Administration and have not been reflected in what I get in my monthly check.

Since I know how much that troubles me and how detrimental it is to my being able to move forward, the unfinished business with the friendly folks in the Penobscot offices still haunt me. There is no one else to blame for my hasty decision to get a plane ticket to out to Omaha other than me, and that is where the buck stops.

The possible opportunity to live in a house in a decent enough neighborhood not far from my Father and still pursue a life and a dream of mine is breathtaking. Many of the issues that have created my current state of discontent would be nearly completely eliminated. But right now, the discontent has only grown, primarily because of the opportunity. Hutch has a friend with whom he worked with at the same high school for the million years he worked as a teacher. Recently she went through some ‘stuff’ and the situation has left her with a house that she will not be living in and considering the depressed housing market, not trying to sell. While there are more details to be worked out, it may be possible for me to take residency of the house.

Did I mention how uncomfortable I am with how this part of the operation to move to Nebraska has been for me? I know that I have already shared how I can finally see myself making my way in Detroit, at least as a individual resident that adds to the character of a neighborhood. But I also can see myself finding an actual purpose, going to school and eventually a job (it won’t be easy, but is anything worth great effort ever easy?) and getting the first level that I am aiming for accomplished, getting a two-year degree.


Thomas said...

You'll never be one of those guys who sit around wondering what might have been. No matter how things turn out, there's always a certain satisfaction in being able to say, "I took my shot."

LceeL said...

We all get out of bed in the morning with decisions to make. Choices. And we all have to live with the consequences of our choices. And so we look to the experience of others to help us form our choices with the benefit of the larger experience represented by the circle of friends in which we move. Your individual circumstances apply to me and all of us who have choices to make - and hopefully, our experience will be helpful to you.

Bucko (a.k.a., Ken) said...

I recommend a pros and cons listing of moving to Nebraska vs. staying in the Metro.

Sarcastic Bastard said...

Bucko's idea sounds pretty good to me.

Whatever is meant to be will be. Sometimes I find that comforting. It means you can't really make a wrong choice.