Dad said continuity is for pussies. “I’m a real man, and I’ve got a real job,” he says. “That’s why I’m here. I’m not here to have a family. I’m here to live. I don’t have time to have a family.” He’s speaking as he spreads mayonnaise on his two-egg omelet, which he has been eating nonstop since he woke up at noon. “I just can’t wait to get to work,” he says. He opens his eyes wide, as if the conversation with him has just ended. “You see, that’s the thing about having a job,” he says. “You can be at home. You can be sitting around and having dinner and everything, but at the same time, you’re making money. You’re doing what you need to do. You don’t need to be cooped up in the house all the time.” He doesn’t say it, but he seems to be suggesting that he will have a wife and kids someday, and that he’s ready to be a good father.
Are you there? Imagine your place in town, the shore line with the mountains just past that, sea to horizon. Listen to the wind, the waves, the great ocean song. Spend time in this, by the waters, in the mountains, out of doors. The smells of rich soil and a hot sun. Float in the vast. Swim in the silent blue. Write your story. Draw your sketch. Paint your picture. Listen to your heart beat and it's bassline. Waves, are you there? Off of the usual party circuit.