Monday, January 13, 2014

Driving And Crying


Right this moment, more than anything, I want to get in my car, drive around, and play music at a deafening level. The windows will be down, regardless of what the weather may be. My hair will whip across my face. I will sing along, and I will be alone. I will think about things and clear my head, and drive by old haunts, and places I used to live. Certain songs will bring out emotion in me, and I will deal with them on my own. I may remember a certain time in my life, whether good or bad, and react accordingly. I can cry and no one will see. I can laugh out loud and not have to explain to anyone what's so funny.

It may seem like nothing, but this is one of the many things I can't do anymore. I realize it's not up there with being able to work or climb a flight of stairs, but it's something that I loved that has been taken away from me. I have no feeling in my feet so I have been ordered not to drive. And even though I have owned a vehicle since the day I turned 16 (all with excellent sound systems), I do not currently own a car. What would be the point?  It puts me in a good mood to drive and sing.

Mind you, today is a bad day. Today is the kind of day I think about stuff like this. On other days I count my blessings, knowing I could be worse off than I am. But not today. Maybe tomorrow will be better.


Something I'm Working On (True Crime Story)

On the night of May 3, 1981, Robert Grady told his wife, Louise, that he needed to go to a meeting at the furniture plant. He told her when ...