My OperaMay 1rst 2004- Air and Sea
Saturday, May 1, 2004 8:47:37 PM
This has always been my favorite time of the year, no matter where I've lived. Here in Florida, it's always pretty nice, but, there's an even more glorious quality to the beach and ocean this time of year.
The annual beach Air and Sea Show takes place, but, I'm not going down there, and feel really depressed. Last year, my sweetheart John and I rented a darling little efficiency for a week, right on A-1A, and watched the spectacular stunts from the private courtyard and pool, oblivious to the throngs of people on the beach across the street. In the evening, we took some wine coolers, and our dinner with us, and watched the sunset events, including the breathtaking fireworks. It was one of the happiest weekends in my life.
John is gone, now, and moved to Illinois to be with his son. I couldn't bear to leave Ft. Lauderdale, and so, here I am. I wish he were still here. When I speak to him, he doesn't understand why I am not there with him. Sometimes, I don't understand why I am not, either, except that I cannot see spending my life in the midwest, amongst factories and cornfields, provincial townspeople who sit on their porches and gossip all day long.
John hated Ft. Lauderdale. He hated the fact that it was a melting pot for people all over the world, while I feel blessed to be integrated into such a diverse culture. Walking through the mall, I like hearing all the strange languages, and seeing people who came here from the four corners of the map. We still all share the common human longings to bask in an environment of good weather, and lots of shopping malls.
I hated Decatur Illinois where John lives. It was a town that was dependent upon the production of corn syrup from the conglomerate monster industry, ADM. It looms like a mechanical behomoth in the heart of the city, spewing out vile smoke which smells like a gym locker. When I lived there, I used to awaken sick to my stomach, and with intractible headaches. My cat got sick. I worked in the local hospital and I never saw sicker sick people in my life.
The people were like robots, programmed by the company to act obedient and subservient. The crack cocaine epidemic in town was beyond pandemic, and there was a dearth of culture. Even the surrounding environs was bland, flatlands and badlands, endless corn fields, and very few diversions. There was a mall, but, it was very sterile. There were stores, but, no matter where you went, even Walmart, there were insufficient cashiers, and I once waited for over an hour to check out.
It was liberating to drive out of Decatur and settle in Ft. Lauderdale, near my family. I loved it from the start. But, he hated it. He hated the traffic, and the congestion. He hated the heat, and the prices of homes, rent, and other essentials. He was homesick, and when push came to shove, he went home. Of course, it was after he had some trouble with the police, here, which threw me into chaos, so, I let him go.
But, I miss his smile, and spending weekends with him. Even when we didn't speak, I loved his spontanaity, and he'd tell me to get in the car and we'd just take off for the Keys, or some completely random destination.
I miss spending weekends like this magical one, with him, enjoying the beauty of the world around me, and seeing it through his eyes. While his absense doesn't diminish the glorious weather, or beauty of what's outside, I am depressed to only remember what it was like to share these weekends with him.
I don't know what to do. If I were with him in Decatur, I'd be in his company, but, only to behold a stinky and depressing city outside. Why can't things be more perfect, like the days last year, when we seemed to have it all?
The annual beach Air and Sea Show takes place, but, I'm not going down there, and feel really depressed. Last year, my sweetheart John and I rented a darling little efficiency for a week, right on A-1A, and watched the spectacular stunts from the private courtyard and pool, oblivious to the throngs of people on the beach across the street. In the evening, we took some wine coolers, and our dinner with us, and watched the sunset events, including the breathtaking fireworks. It was one of the happiest weekends in my life.
John is gone, now, and moved to Illinois to be with his son. I couldn't bear to leave Ft. Lauderdale, and so, here I am. I wish he were still here. When I speak to him, he doesn't understand why I am not there with him. Sometimes, I don't understand why I am not, either, except that I cannot see spending my life in the midwest, amongst factories and cornfields, provincial townspeople who sit on their porches and gossip all day long.
John hated Ft. Lauderdale. He hated the fact that it was a melting pot for people all over the world, while I feel blessed to be integrated into such a diverse culture. Walking through the mall, I like hearing all the strange languages, and seeing people who came here from the four corners of the map. We still all share the common human longings to bask in an environment of good weather, and lots of shopping malls.
I hated Decatur Illinois where John lives. It was a town that was dependent upon the production of corn syrup from the conglomerate monster industry, ADM. It looms like a mechanical behomoth in the heart of the city, spewing out vile smoke which smells like a gym locker. When I lived there, I used to awaken sick to my stomach, and with intractible headaches. My cat got sick. I worked in the local hospital and I never saw sicker sick people in my life.
The people were like robots, programmed by the company to act obedient and subservient. The crack cocaine epidemic in town was beyond pandemic, and there was a dearth of culture. Even the surrounding environs was bland, flatlands and badlands, endless corn fields, and very few diversions. There was a mall, but, it was very sterile. There were stores, but, no matter where you went, even Walmart, there were insufficient cashiers, and I once waited for over an hour to check out.
It was liberating to drive out of Decatur and settle in Ft. Lauderdale, near my family. I loved it from the start. But, he hated it. He hated the traffic, and the congestion. He hated the heat, and the prices of homes, rent, and other essentials. He was homesick, and when push came to shove, he went home. Of course, it was after he had some trouble with the police, here, which threw me into chaos, so, I let him go.
But, I miss his smile, and spending weekends with him. Even when we didn't speak, I loved his spontanaity, and he'd tell me to get in the car and we'd just take off for the Keys, or some completely random destination.
I miss spending weekends like this magical one, with him, enjoying the beauty of the world around me, and seeing it through his eyes. While his absense doesn't diminish the glorious weather, or beauty of what's outside, I am depressed to only remember what it was like to share these weekends with him.
I don't know what to do. If I were with him in Decatur, I'd be in his company, but, only to behold a stinky and depressing city outside. Why can't things be more perfect, like the days last year, when we seemed to have it all?
