The Way

Recently my Mom has been looking through old movies, the highlights of which she shared with me. We talked about how in the early years Tom (undeserving of the title, Father) was a nice guy and there were good times. While driving into work tonight I heard on the radio The Way by Fastball. This song always reminds me of waking up, or more likely getting in at three or four in the morning and finding Tom about to head of to the beach with his metal detector. He would usually ask if I wanted to join him and often I would. There was something about these early morning trips in which we could be comfortable around each other for my part I was usually enjoying a mild buzz from whatever drugs I had the night before. As for Tom I suspect he was just happy to go play in the sand. Speculating on the motives of this individual can be hazardous to ones mental health, so frankly I try to avoid doing so. Never the less the cool Florida mornings lent themselves well to relaxed vibrations and lite conversation. We would arrive on the beach he headed off in search of the treasure that never came. As I found a comfortable niche to watch the sun rise and smoke, on these outings I perpetually carried a walkman radio. Listening to oldies or classic rock stations mostly, surveying the eastern coast, this was the best way to come off an acid trip. The Way was a small song as far as I know and the band never got much traction. Its funny, but I think I heard the song more this year than the year it debuted. Something in the tempo and lyrics caught me and it seemed to embody these mornings. A point when the natural order takes a break and allows everyone to catch their breath and remember: It’s just a game, relax. Eventually we’d pack it in Tom heading up the beach with trash and a few baubles, mostly trash. One thing I noticed about Tom on a trip like this is that he had no sense of whimsy. This was noticeable specifically on the occasion he found a shovel. I propose he mount it with a plague describing an epic battle, the way some people do with fish. Now this honestly was meant mostly as a joke but he dismissed it completely out of hand, as if there was not even the possibility of comedy. Then and now I feel incredibly sad about that. all his wonder for life was striped away leaving him bare in the wilderness, a tiger snapping at shadows. But I digress, I see now that this ritual was not the connection I thought at the time. It was merely physical proximity with an absence of hostility. How pathetic that bonding moments between he and I where no more than brief armistices. If I had realized that then I’d probably have gone mad.


http://youtube.com/watch?v=b0wfu3tOrtQ