(I use this story as a metaphor)

I have always had a feeling for Sundays . . .

Early morning, Sunday is quiet. Aside from the religious observance and aside from the fact that Sunday is seen as a day of rest; Sunday is the last day of the weekend.
With Monday to follow, Sunday only seemed like half a day. With Monday on its way, Sunday always seemed to be cut in half. Half of Sunday was a day of rest and the other half was spent preparing and wondering about the Monday to come.

When I was a young boy at the age of five or maybe six, I watched The Old Man doing yard work in the backyard of our home. The sky changed from light to dark gray. The tension from the humidity was thick. I could tell Continue reading →

When I was a young, The Old Man used to try and set me straight. He would explain the way life works and the way a man should and should not behave. Then The Old Man would tell me, “You’ll understand more when you get older.”
I always wondered when this would be. When does the great so-called revelation take place? Or is there even such a thing? I always assumed getting older was a relative term. I was older, but older in my case did not mean enlightened.

Ten years back, I stood on a line in a delicatessen. My daughter was two years old. Her blonde hair was short and curly. Her words were few. She was so small and fit perfectly in my arms. She played with her tea set. My daughter played with her dolls. She especially loved all of the Disney princess characters.

On a nice warm day, I took my little girl to the playground behind Barnum Woods Elementary school. This was a place that I used to go to when I was very young. The playground has change since Continue reading →

It is strange to remember so far back when the world was different. The teenage years and its memories seem to blur with the interference of time and age. I was so young . The world was ahead of me. I was frightened, yes, but I was still so absolutely resilient.

The Old house on Merrick Avenue is also lifetimes away from me. And my old upstairs bedroom; I remember the sliding doors at my closet, the dark hardwood flooring, the hiding spots behind my desk, my stereo and television, the black-light posters on the wall, the trippy colored lamps that flashed light around my room at night, not to mention, the secret hole in the wall that no one knew about. All of this was so long ago.

I used to climb out my side window, which led Continue reading →

I was alone. I lost most of what I thought was valuable. All that remained seemed to be cheap and falling apart. My bank account was on its way to empty. My credit score was losing to the drain of divorce and the expenses of a life and its cost. I had a small apartment that was at the edge of the town where I grew up.

It was fitting that I moved back to my old hometown. The neighborhood was familiar and comfortable. I knew the streets and the streets knew me as well. I returned to submerge myself in the anonymity of my quiet homecoming without judgment. Those that knew me in my troubled youth did not recognize me in adulthood.

The remnants of my Continue reading →

Evening Rush Hour:

I sat in a window seat on Short-Line bus out of New York City’s Port Authority Bus Station. Slowly, one by one, passengers boarded the bus.
Some were headed home after a long day’s work. Others were homeward bound after a playful day in the city.
Each passenger that climbed aboard, either male or female, scanned the possible seating arrangements on the bus. Each one climbed up the steps and began to make their way down the aisle between the two, side by side seats.
The choice of seating is either an aisle or window seat. As for me, I prefer the window. I enjoy watching the city lights disappear into distance. I like watching the changes in landscape from city to suburb. The sky above Continue reading →