metanoia's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hurtling through the blackness Son married. It was an interesting trip back home, back to California. K and I decided to make it a vacation, so after wedding we stayed another week and just enjoyed our old places and things. We went to Palm Springs to visit brother as he was too ill to travel to wedding in La Jolla. I want to write about all my feelings and what I did and what I felt and - everything, but I doubt that I will. I doubt that I will take the time to write all about it. Perhaps I will write some things... I was just dreading the trip and was so out of sorts for months before. Thoughts of dying in a plane crash or I don't know what, but just dreading the entire trip and wedding and rehearsal dinner and - just everything. Woke at 4 am for a 8:50 flight out of Atlanta. Left house at 4:30 am for the hours drive to airport. K was driving and going too fast for my taste. He was tense, he always gets tense before a trip, as a matter of course. We usually have an argument before we leave for a trip just because he is such a raving lunatic. This time we didn't, but he was on edge. I spoke aloud in the car, "...hurtling through black space at the speed of light..." He looked at me like he sometimes does with that "you crazy bitch" look. (hehe) Then, I swear it was not but a few seconds, blue lights. Yes. Blue Lights In The Rear View Mirror. K pulls over. "Fuck", he says. "Fuck", I say. Then I say Fuck again, just for good measure. "You were going 65", I said. "Fuck", he says. "In a construction zone", I say. "Fuck", he says. "Fuck and fuck", I say. Then the cop comes to the window and says, "Do you know how fast you were going?" At which point K looks out the window and says, "I think I was going 55...." Cop says, "How the hell are you, K?" K says, "Did you know it was me?" Cop says, "No, man. You were going 66 mph." K says, "I thought I was going 55." Cop says, "Speed limit here is 45. Slow down, ok?" K says, "Hey, Jimmy, did you ever meet my wife?" At which point, I lean over, smile and say, "Hi - uh - we are going to airport." Cop says, "Pleased to meet you. Well, K, slow down, OK?" K says, "OK." We all say "bye" and that was that. On the one hand, I was relieved that we did not get a ticket. On the other hand I was pissed because that never happens to me, only to K. Even if the cop had been my best friend, he would have said, "Metanoia, I know I am your best friend, but the law is the law and I have to give you a ticket." So I said to K, "You are the luckiest son of a bitch I ever knew. Why don't you ever just win the lottery for fuck sake?" And we continued on into the blackness toward the airport, toward California, toward my sons wedding, toward my past, toward the future. At a considerably reduced rate of speed. 8:59 a.m. - 2004-05-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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