Float On!

I could preface this writing piece with many details about a wonderful weekend that I just enjoyed with my son and a great group of friends...trust me, that all happened... but then I had to drive home from the beach and deal with rising realities. Ollie and I took the Cape May to Lewes ferry. It was a great experience and I can't believe that it was fricking thirty years since my last crossing.




There's a weird air in the nostalgia that fumes thirty years deep. It was weird and at some points I was feeling like my entire life had just flown by me. My son's age and honesty were making me slightly jealous and remorseful.







(Italicized and quoted text comes from a variety of songs by modest mouse)

"Well he just drove off sometimes life's ok
I ran my mouth off a bit too much oh what did I say
Well you just laughed it off it was all ok"

The regrets and remorse were easily covered by the sound of Oliver's voice. We had a blast and the rest of this story kinda starts at the point of the van going off the boat ramp and Ollie falling asleep shortly there after.

The day of leaving the beach is always so painful. I can remember being a kid, in the back seat of my parent's station wagon whipping through the stink of Avondale, with some Fleetwood Mac crackling on the radio. I was very young and having heavy emotional issues after leaving my favorite place on earth. We were leaving, and as far as I could tell, we may never return. All the shells in the world wouldn't actually bring the beach home with me and this made my little heart hurt...and then there was this awful smell in this totally weird town with green fire trucks and this beautiful but depressing song on the radio being sung by an angel. I'm totally fucked.

Driving home from the beach depresses the shit out of me.

Today I drove 80 in 55's and listened to the loudest Modest Mouse I could find.

"Turn off the light 'cause it's night on the sun
You're hopelessly hopeless
I hope so, for you"

It wasn't helping matters that while I was at Stone Harbor I fell deeply in love with a rusty old beach cruiser bicycle named "Michelle". She had no grips on the handle bars and the kick stand would hold her up at just the last minute, and it left her leaning toward or away from me...depending on which side I left her...or approached her. Damn if there wasn't something oddly romantic about this bike.

I missed her greatly and couldn't even say good bye. When the time came, I felt really weird and it just didn't feel right...I mean, it was only a weekend, but I swore we knew each other a lifetime. And telling Alana that I had fallen deeply in love with a beach cruising bicycle named "Michelle" was not a bridge I would consider crossing.

"Everything that keeps me together is falling apart,
I've got this thing that I consider my only art of fucking people over
...Your heart felt good it was drippin' pitch and made of wood
And your hands and knees felt cold and wet on the grass to me
Outside naked, shiverin' looking blue, from the cold sunlight that's reflected off the moon"

The drive was now starting to drag and steam in Sunday's rain. We approached Dover with rhythmless red brake lights flashing ahead. This NASCAR traffic was killing me. I wished them all quick trips to hell and cursed the monster mile.

The toll booth attendant appreciated my sincerity and kindness, but I would bet the farm that she would have preferred a stiff drink and some pills.

"Even if things get heavy, we'll all float on.
Alright already, we'll all float on alright."

Naturally, the boy driving the loud VW in front of me began to annoy; and I imagined ripping those stupid plugs out of his stretched ear lobes and shoving them up his ass.

After his 100th unnecessary, very abrupt and loud downshift, I nearly 'rammed' into him, and hence had to 'dodge' away into the other lane. He waved a middle finger from his window, and I reached across the dash to give a 'thumbs up' toward his side view mirror.

He took my lane change as a challenge, and began racing me. He zoomed ahead quickly to annoy more drivers. He had a girl in the front seat beside him. I'm pretty sure that she hates his guts as well, but hasn't found the way to tell him yet. This kid is 'what is wrong with America', and I hated him just from the shear fact that he is contributing to the decline of our civilization. Fucking dick. And by the way, dude...I wasn't racing you...I let you and your stupid car get ahead.


"Well that is that and this is this.
You tell me what you want and I'll tell you what you get.
You get away from me. You get away from me."

The NASCAR traffic and it's participants eventually faded into the steam. Oliver woke up hungry and started to pest me into a better mood. We stopped and ate at a McDonald's and I am quickly remembering why I refused their food for so many years. It's all smoke and mirrors. It's fucking junk. BUT, my kid enjoys a happy meal here and there, just like I did at his age. I can't deny him what I know is bad for him just because now I know it is, can I? No. It's some shitty food that comes with a toy...fuck it. I'm even hating the fact that I'm admitting to consuming fast food...and it makes me feel like some sort of villain.

I had the fillet of fish, because everyone knows that fish is so much more healthy for you than red meat...ew! Red meat is so bad for you and gross! Gimme the fish! Gosh I feel so much more healthy now eating this square breaded thing on a bun.

The last leg of the drive felt easier on the heart. My little man was up and I was able to stop dreaming of "Michelle" and the smell of salt water.

The lingering traffic didn't bother me on the more and more familiar roadways. I got dangerously close to the bumper of a mini van that was littered with stickers pledging allegiance to nearly every cause under the sun. I took note to some of the causes and hoped that her advertising helped their effort. She even had one of those ribbon sort of stickers (the type that usually reminds of autism and breast cancer) posted largely on the rear window. I crept in a bit more to read what it could be that she was also passionate about...and there it read "I love my Guinea Pig."