Thursday, April 24, 2008

Doc's Lament, or, Have You Got A Shoulder I Could Use?

I left my home in Georgia
Headed for the 'Frisco bay
'Cause I've had nothing to live for
And look like nothin's gonna come my way
--Otis Redding, Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay.
I must be getting weak and sentimental in my old age. Flannery has been out of town all week and I have been a fucking mess without her. She has had to go out of town for work many, many times in the past and I've always managed just fine. I missed her sure, but I wasn't devastated, heart broken, and lonely as hell.

I'll admit, in times past, I somewhat looked forward to her trips. I'd buy a big bag of salt and vinegar potato chips, hot fries, and BBQ pork rinds, ice down a dozen beers and watch war movies, westerns, and action pictures to my hearts content. I ate snacks she doesn't care for, fixed dinners of things that I like to eat, and watched flicks she didn't like. I felt it was good quality "Me Time" well spent. She would be home in a few days and tell me of her adventures, the people she met and mingled with, the funny thing that happened, and all the lurid gossip.

I would tell her of my laying about and watching T.V. and how lucky she was to be staying out of town two nights ago because a pork rind/s&v chip/hot fries/beer diet tends to catch up with a person after the third day.

We celebrated her homecoming, had a nice meal, and would sit and talk for hours. Then we would snuggle up in bed and turn on some Mystery Science Theater 3K and fall asleep to the robots as we enjoyed each other's company again.

But this time it is different. I'm not sure why, but it is. I miss her like crazy.

Sure, she calls and I talk to her at least twice a day. But still, I miss her much. I'd be a liar if I said I didn't replay the twenty-second message on the answering machine more than twice. It was just a simple "sorry I missed you, will call later, I love you, goodbye." But Damn, she knows how to say I love you.

I feel adrift with her gone. I know she is an hour and a half away but somehow that just makes it worse. A gross as this may sound but I feel amputated somehow. I could manage a few days with one arm or the other out of commission, or if one leg was gimped up. It would be hard, but I would manage. But I feel as if I have lost something much more dear than my good right arm.

I've lost my heart. I sent it to Cleveland with Flannery.

To match my mood, I have selected an oldie but a goodie. Sit back, where ever you are, and bask in the morning sun, watch the tide, listen to the gulls, and count the boats.

As pleasant as the tune is, it has always sounded somewhat sad to me. He recorded this three days before his death. It was his only #1 hit on the Billboard Hot 100, and was a departure from the bulk of his other work. (thank you wikipedia)

Flannery will be home tomorrow night, and in the mean time I'm going to have a PBR, sort socks, and watch "Beerfest" to cheer myself up.

I hope you have a grand Friday and you make all the lights, cash a big check, kiss someone you love, and drink responsibly. Or at least in groups of four or more. There is at least a 75% chance you won't have to be the designated driver that way.



  1. I could never do what ten people tell me to do either.



    ::gasp:: Doc's got... th' eye of the Jew!!

    Where were we?? It's been a helluva week for feelings, lemmie tell you. Fevers have been running at a pitch all week and all o'er the spectrum: angst, frustration, ennui, lonliness, mournfulness, anger, raging torrents of happiness heavily tinged with hormones-- "Hey! BigMac!" says I to one of the local teens whom I've not seen in 3 weeks, "where th' hell you been??"

    "Oh, hangin' out with me girlfriend..." he says, with a leer. A letcherous cry goes up from the pack of young male SK8R bois on the porch, smokin' cigs like James Dean.

    Like I said, the dog barks, the birds sing, the sap rises and the angels sigh all o'er the place-- Copperline, th' Ohio Valley and even here amongst the cedars at Possum Lodge.


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