"Hide it in a hiding place where no one ever goes. Put it in your pantry
with your cupcakes. It's a little secret, just the Robinsons' affair. Most
of all, you've got to hide it from the kids." - Simon & Garfunkel, "Mrs.
years old and until tonight, I was a stranger to
in both motion picture and novel formats. I always liked Simon and Garfunkel's
"Mrs. Robinson" and had seen many clips from the film... but had never actually
sat down to watch it.
Late tonight after coming in a from a fire, the movie was on the Turner Classic
Movies network. Of course, that channel plays its movies commercial free...
so I didn't have a chance -- or a good excuse -- to flip away and I was hooked.
It was a pretty good film with excellent music (much of it performed by Simon
& Garfunkel). I'm not sure how I've made it this far without seeing it.
And what I thought was really interesting is that it was made in 1967. My
mother was either a high school sophomore or a junior at that time... I was
still 10 years away from being born... and the movie is still funny and dramatic
and still makes sense today, 33 years later.
It's 3:20 a.m. and I really need
to be in bed... but I can take solace in the fact that I've been doing a
fairly good job of keeping "grown up" hours. Monday night, I was sound asleep
at 10 p.m. I don't think I've been asleep that early in years. I slept nicely
until about midnight, when I woke up and realized that I hadn't uploaded
my previously written journal entry for the day. Of course, once I signed
on to my ISP... I came up with several other things I needed to accomplish
online. Finally, I called it quits shortly before 3 a.m. and crawled in the
bed. I laid there for about an hour and fought to return to the deep sleep
I had previously enjoyed that night. All I could manage was five minutes
here or 10 minutes there. This lasted until 4:11, when the FD was paged out
for a car & residential fire. I didn't get any photos, but I was the
second man on the hoseline... and that's something I enjoyed. I like to learn...
and it's easier to learn if you are close to the action.
By the time the fire was out (the house was saved but the car was cooked),
I didn't bother going back to bed. I killed some time online, took a shower
and went to work during the 8 o'clock hour... you know, like the rest of
the world does. I spent from 8:30 until 1:30 a.m. at work with the exception
of a break in the afternoon for a nap and a dinner break during the evening.
I tried to keep the responsible adult thing going... and came home from work
and went to bed. No unnecessary web surfing. No watching cable documentaries.
Bed. Sleep. Unconsciousness.
The light of day was enough to wake me this morning. I hopped out of bed
at 7 and headed to work. (Wow... two days of going to work like a normal
person. My boss may have my head checked for this). I worked mostly on the
weekly paper instead of my magazine project and finally took my slightly
sleep deprived self out of the office about 1:30 p.m. I stopped by
Jessie's place, ate lunch and
took a long nap on her sofa. I mean long. I finally woke up and was thinking
about heading for home about 8:30 when the tones sounded for a fire just
down the street from her apartment. (This is weird because three times this
month, I've been at her place when there has been a fire on her end of town...
but I'm fine with it because it cuts down on driving time).
I went, got some photos and was able to lend a hand with the fireground
operations. The fire was in a baseball field concession stand and is the
the second concession stand fire we've had this summer. That's odd. Who burns
down concession stands? Anyway, I came home... watched The Graduate... and
now I'm here.... and typing what must be one of the most boring entries that
this journal has ever seen.
As I said the other day, I called
Alex on Monday to inquire as to
whether she would like to get together Friday, when I drive down to campus.
It figured that giving her two days to decide would be adequate and planned
to call her on Wednesday. Well, the whole nap and firefighting thing got
in the way of that... and I'm wondering what kind of response I'll be getting
from her when I call Thursday. Why do I care? I care because she's a friend
and I want to spend time with her. Right? Life would be so much easier if
I didn't overanalyze nearly every single thing I say or do... but I know
no other way... and it's a heck of a habit to break... and there are so people
that analyze nothing... and I don't want to be anything like them... so I
guess I should be happy with the way I am...
Wait a minute. What am I talking about? I am happy with the way I
Be lucky that I'm still able to type.
Be lucky that my head hasn't swelled so much that the excess pressure causes
it to explode, splattering gooey innards all over my computer screen. (Okay,
maybe I took that too far. I'm sorry.) Even though my ego hasn't swelled
that much, I am fairly happy to know that my attempt to do a good job at
this fire gig has gotten folks' attention.
As we were filling air bottles and loading clean hose tonight after the fire,
one of the captains asked when I was going back to school -- and why I couldn't
stay in Smallville and go
to school here. I wish I could keep up this firefighting thing. It's something
that I really enjoy doing... But I can't do that if it involves going to
school here... or working some more at the newspaper here. I don't want either
to be a viable option. I belong at the school I've been attending for the
past two years... and with the friends I've made... and I need to be down
there soaking up the final years of my youth. You are young only once. And
I don't want to let it pass me by.
Is that immature of me? I don't think so. I know that if I don't soak up
the good times as they happen now... I'll find myself somewhat bitter as
I approach middle age... and I'll wonder why I let my youth pass me by...
and I might try to recapture my youth by buying a red convertible... or some
other activity associated with mid-life crises... but you can never go back...
The only option is to soak it up while you can. And I don't think I can do
much soaking if I stay here in