Have you ever awaken where your thoughts are darting around like cars in a Demolition Derby? Not organized in a circle all going the same direction like a racetrack but going in every direction and crashing into each other?
Thats how I woke this morning, I could even hear the roar of the engines, the grinding of the gears, the crashes as they tried to take out the competition, heck I could smell the anti-freeze and the oil, the mud, the ozone from the lighting strikes on the track. A heck of a way to wake up.

This is the dash of my car where everything is organized, everything has it's place, information is processed and provided in a simple format and easily obtained to process. The way my mind USUALLY works. But this morning ,,,,,, ummmmmm ,,,,,, um.

Deciding my mind needed what my car needed, a little tidying up, some clarification, some house cleaning so to speak I took the car to the car wash, after, of course, stopping for my morning tropical green tea with honey and a bit of soy thank you Ashleigh.

The nice machine with the female voice was pleased to see me, or my credit card, havent decided which just yet. I've known real people of both persuasions (those that were happy to see me and those that were happy to see my credit card) so I swiped the card and ignored the voice as it always says the same thing (see why I have my doubts about what "she" is happy to see?)

As I sat there letting the "touchless", "high pressure" machine wash my car my mind began to cleanse itself as well. (Take it from me "toucless" is good but "high pressure" and convertible do not go well together)

While my shirt and the towel I brought to dry the car proceeded to get wet from the leaks (see above about "high pressure" and convertibles) that became evident, my mind began a depressurizing or cleansing of it's own. The pressures of the morning, the stresses of the last few days, the haggles of life itself began to melt away. The smell of the protectorant and wax being sprayed onto the car had the same effect as the song "Misty" played on a Tenor Sax by Boots Randolph has, Simply put I was becoming relaxed.



Of course even though the mind may be cleansing itself, it is till cluttered with trivial stuff. Like when you clean the shed of all the major accumulations but still have it full of things you've saved for years like a galvanized bucket of misc screws, bolts, nuts washers what have you (I still get upset at the memory of my brother taking that bucket. I had that thing longer than I had kids heck longer than I had thier Mom, and anytime I needed something I couldnt find anywhere else I could dump that bucket out and sort through it and usually find that wierd, little, something I needed at the moment) so my mind was cleansing itself but the trivial was coming towards the front.

Like did you know that there is 31,586,000 seconds in a year and that isnt counting the 86,400 added on for leap year. To put that into some perspective we all know that the Earth is 24,902 miles in circumferance at the equator. That would be approximately   1,577,791,000,000,000 inches .

So, if a 20oz Diet Coke bottle is 9 inches long it would take 175,310,080 Diet Coke bottles to circle the Earth. That would be 49.95 times as many seconds in a year. And according to the bottle you would still have zero calories.

So, you can understand why I dont go to the "touchless", "high pressure" carwash that often, just to confusing.

Empty, lonely Saturday night.

It could be anywhere, Oklahoma City, Austin Texas, Tucson Arizona or Juneau Alaska.
A wet, chilly, windy, lonely Saturday night. Late, in an empty resturant, watching the cars of those "with a life" cruise by.
This was my night, this late night or is it early morning. I dont know anymore, my day was like that. The type of day where you should be sitting on the couch wrapped in a blanket, eating hot soup, and watching a movie. The type of day that makes you turn inward, reflecting, analyzing, looking at self from the inside out.
If you think sometimes the mirror is just too honest try a day like today. There is no maid in there, no vacuume to clean up that part of your mind. It's where the skeletons live, the memories, the loneliness.

  Just another cup of coffee then it's back out into the wet, chilly, and windy night. The thoughts are there, the memories hang-on, just another cup coach, the pleasant ones are on the horizon.
The memories of my childrens births, thier childhood, as toddlers, as teens, and now young women with thier own lives, thier own families, thier own future. Pleasant memories all, so why cant I shake the doldrums, my spirit is like the night.
Alone, and lonely on a Saturday night somewhere, could be anywhere, just another guy sitting alone in a four person booth against the back wall in an empty restuarant in some city, somewhere, on a dark, wet, chilly, and windy night.