|Diggin' The Night Sky.
||[Jul. 17th, 2003|01:48 am]
|[||In the Moment
|||||Pacou - It's Jazzy||]|
The starry night unfolds, and the stars I know multiply tenfold when 50 miles out of the city, but they're pretty wonderful right now.
This happens to be almost around that time of the year when the Milky Way band goes pretty large in the sky, lots of stars, if I'm not mistaken.
That night, years before my love, I was loveless and up north in Port Hope, MI.
Port Hope is the same sleepy town it was in 1950. Most of the towns from Lexington northward to the thumb of Port Austin have changed a very low percentage since the WWII days.
What you generally do if you're age 21 or 22 and you're up in the thumb of Nowhere, MI, is get to a friend's family's personal property on the water, and you drink alcohol.
I remember those days. Aaaaaaaaah, what a time to be alive. That's what they all say, but really, I can't lie.
I remember one memory of my friend Jason's family's place when we were huddled in a hunter's blind, on the edge of the forest, facing a large field.
It was evening, around this time. Jason, I, his brother, and his brother's friend were huddled in the hut, a 12X12 blind for shooting animals under cover. We, however, were shooting beers into our bellies.
This particular evening, however, was filled with stars. Glorious, wonderful constellations, the Dippers, Orion and his fancy belt were probably part of the light party.
No city lights. Only a short beach, stars, stars, more stars, and I was with Jason's family and friends. We fell asleep on the beach. It was cold, but it was one of the rare moments I had a woman by my side.
Her name was Michelle, the same name of my cousin, only I tended to keep her at arm's length by warning of Jason. Michelle was the barely legal type who had a woman's body but a more childishly dangerous mind. She wouldn't be likely to hurt me, but she'd not be able to look out for me, so Jason knew it wasn't a good match.
I could feel her loneliness and confusion. It was a clever mix of passive rage, a quiet riot, not really passive-aggressive but definitely not completely quiet. You could feel it, as she had to say nothing, and you had to have the special reception of the life radio that has been there before and understands.
The problem was, I'd been at that road about 10 years prior in junior high, and I wasn't going back on the path. She happened to be a competent lass, yet not competent in love, and I was saving myself for a very good love, one that loved me, not my potential or anything but me.
Her body kept me warm, but I was saved by the night sky. Glorious stars, a long band of multi-colored life-giving generators, separated by history and the speed of light showing me that there was a magnificent past.
It gave me hope for the future. We had fun that weekend and those weekends. I'm still quite the friend with Jason, who now has found a good love, one Amy who happened to prove that this is a small world, afterall . . . Amy learned as a young student from my mother, a grade school teacher in the metro area.
I found my love in a violent supernova of inner-office torment at my last displeasure of toil. She worked an emergency shift with me, underneath the stars, which we couldn't see because we were covering for another vendor that didn't have their act together down south.
There was a poor victim of a car breakdown in the lot of one of the auto companies in Warren who called our service for assistance 3 hours prior, and he began to scream at me as to how incompetent the service was.
I couldn't have agreed with him more, since we don't provide it, we call the roadside. Roadside agents didn't feel like driving around the huge parking lots to find him.
That, however, made little sense because it was around 1-3AM and not many cars would be in the lots.
My careful and respectful treatment of that man and my defense of his situation to the non-affected and generally worthless roadside agents caught my cubicle neighbor's eye. Heidi and I chatted it up between calls, and while we couldn't see the stars that night, we surely felt the stars between us.
She asked if she could send me emails over the company server and I said, "sure, why not."
The rest is a private and wonderful history of the birth of a great new nebula.