Seeking

This could be our future.

This one comes from my mother. The Lucky Ones is incredibly cool. You can skip the preview and go directly to each little story. You'll see what I mean, Check it out.

Jake sat on the rustic porch and appeared just as an old hound would sitting proud in front of the picturesque cabin. He gave little attention to his owner as Salvador disappeared inside. He did seem however to be peering right into the Buick. This made Samantha a little uneasy. Samantha returned to perusing the radio stations which were beginning to be eaten by static as combinations of two or more stations became the norm. She settled on a mix of the "teachings of Jesus Christ" and George Clinton's Atomic Bomb. Moments like this amused Samantha to no end. She adjusted the seat slightly as to recline and contemplated the silence of the car ride so far. She had not spoken once to this stranger yet she felt an instant attraction. She chalked the attraction up to the conditioning of modern film and pornography. Stranger picks up young women = instant death or sex in the back seat. At this point she was not opposed to either but thought there may be potential for something more significant. She regressed to her lost naivete and flirted with the idea that this adventure was going to result in some sort of spiritual awakening. Perhaps her whole life was now finally arriving at an epic pinnacle of rebirth. The trailer, decorative in a nicotine stained curtain kind of way, could easily be gone forever. A child-like excitement grew from a deep buried place inside Samantha, a place where she had not ventured in far too long. She anticipated where the stranger was going to take them. Then she wanted a cigarette more then anything in the world. The gift was granted. She instinctively turned her head to the back seat and a pack of unopened camel lights called "yes we are here". She had not smoked in about two years. It only took thirty seconds for her to decide that it was okay to smoke now. She patiently waited for Salvador to return and kept her self busy by reorganizing the items in her purse.

(to be continued)

So, The epic romance of Sal and Samantha is on hold for today as the story decided it may just manifest itself in little blips in the way the "postmodern link of the day" does.

The past couple weeks that I have lapsed on my posting is going to result into a Sound Bites kind of day. Again, Sound Bites are just little thoughts that rush through my head that don't really have a home.

I have been thinking about the nature of hunger. There are so many ways in which I hunger these days. I have actual desire for food and water. This desire frames my day and more recently, all of my activities. That is, when I actually choose to eat in a structured sense.
The Live 8 show coming to Philly has me reflecting on the extreme terminal hunger and starvation that is one of the many benefits of third world living. This has further motivated me to keep reading my Peace Corps literature and get a move on that application.
I've also been thinking about that other kind of hunger. The passionate kind. The kind that urges me to move forward in life despite bad news and difficult times. The hunger for life. The way that I can taste a big achievement before it has even arrived. The way I anticipate the goose bumps of sadness when nothing sad has yet occurred. I truly hunger for the next day to arrive. It is nice to hunger in this way now. There was a time I hungered only for my next fix.


The other thing that I keep talking, hearing and OCDing over is that which will go unnamed. I don't know what exactly is going on with this particular recent "religion" but I find I am thinking two things.
I am totally petrified of it.
I can not get my head around the fact that how this all began was with a good old fashioned sci-fi novel.
I have read and re-read the claims of Operation Clam Bake, the website dedicated to outting the truth about that which will go unnamed. What I find utterly fascinating is those that will go unnamed claim to have found another mechanism for the relief of (hunger) drug addiction and alcoholism. What is going in there? A friend of mine pointed out that when it boils down to it the unnameds are not really that much different or scarier then these other unnameds. This is a good a point. However, something is still really unsettling about the whole thing.

...so the story continues with Sal and Sam rolling out on the highway heading south and into an uncertain but somehow strangely destined future.

Never before had Sal considered such a spontaneous move as to invite such a beautiful and exotic stranger into his crazy world so quickly, but he knew in his heart of hearts that from now on he would need a partner for the certain inevitabilities of his future. He also realized very quickly that this was no ordinary woman and that she too had the type of life that was motivating her to take a chance with him.

The immediate and unmistakable connection was born in silence. There was no need to explain the particulars of their reasons for leaving town with everything they had loaded into the Buick. Words seemed unnecessary at this point in their lives. All it took was the understanding that both of them knew that this was exactly what needed to be done and what they both wanted at this very moment.

They raced along the open road scrolling through the radio stations imagining what the other was thinking.

Sal needed to make one stop to square away some business before they could commence with the endless adventure ahead of them. They pulled off the highway and moved along a heavily wooded road where the drone of the endless precession of autos faded away and only the echoes of the night became quietly apparent.

Samantha meticulously manipulated her cell phone deleting her reminders of the reality she had just so recently walked away from. Her thoughts drifted back to the days of her youth when everything seemed possible and before life had begun molding the series of experiences she had and the decisions she made that got her to this point. She had always known that her destiny was in her spontaneity but just never imagined that this is the way that it would find her.

They slowly pulled down a long winding gravel driveway and finally came to a stop in front of a rustic old log cabin that time had forgotten about a long time ago. Sal informed Sam that she should wait in the car and that this would only take a few minutes.

Sal acknowledged Jake on the porch with a simple nod and then moved into the cabin...

BLUE MAN GROUP ROCKS!

The second installment of the story will be posted by another author in the not too distant future, in the meantime:

Read Chapter 20 of Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, and contemplate the meaning of the following sentence:

"Reality is always the moment of vision before the intellectualization takes place."

The sleepy town of Harper's Ferry is the best place to flee to without making any arrangements ahead of time.

For novelties sake, my companion and myself "sort of" took on other identities in order to add to the excitement of the unplanned adventure:

Samantha, a worn out but still (in that worn way) foxy waitress was waiting tables and living in a trailer home prior to being picked up outside a seedy diner.

Salvador drove a gigantic and spotless white Buick and was a sandy haired, stoic man with a dark past.

Salvador, on the run from some sort of unrevealed debauchery, picked up Samantha outside of the Vanpelt Eatery late on a Friday evening. Samantha was the type of girl that carried with her all of her earthly possessions. She was visibly tough and fragile at one glance. When Salvador parked in front of the eatery to throw his 45 into the protective enormity of the Buick's trunk, he had no idea where he was headed. He saw Samantha sitting on all of her belongings, her back facing the diner that was soon to be a distant memory and with the sharpness of a strait razor he told her to hop in.

Samantha had one of those moments that tough and fragile women have. Sick of her dead-end job and typical trailer trash dramatic life she assumed morbidly that there was no good reason not to "hop in". Worst case scenario she would put out of her misery in some sort of "insane stranger picks up poor helpless women" kind of way.

Salvador, like most of the decisions he made, could not belief what he was doing. His character was such that he could make rash decisions calmly. He didn't know where to take her or what the point to it all was, but he rationalized that he had nothing to lose by gaining some company.

Sal opened the passenger side door and had returned to the driver side before Sam had finished contemplating whether to go or not. She took a long hard look at the gorgeous stranger and got in to enjoy the ride.

(to be continued)