Sunday, November 16, 2008

For the Nation, one man under God...

This is for a buddy, who posts as Joe Nation:


It is just so very good to see that you're back. Back in the saddle; back from overseas; back from the land of dreams that you stayed in too long that day; back from the nadir of nada. Back from the clouds that darken, drain and deceive. Back from desolate days with dry rain of loss of hope and dust storms of gain of fear; running from the sun and baying at the moon as it bounces off the mirrored skins of nearby buildings in your town.

There's a bounce in your keyboard that didn't come from JAVA...or FORTRAN...or FLASH in the pants. It didn't even come from BASIC. Or a little doggie pill. Or even a blue human one. Your words wash and twist and turn like Ali getting ready for a fight, training with arms held tight and body loose, sweat dripping off and steady with the knowledge of what's to come.

I can tell that sometimes (not always) smiles wreathe your face like the imaginary smoke from your jostled subway commuter neighbor. Brightening those in the store, in your vicinity and even strangers who glimpse you from afar.

You don't need a chip or a tee (no matter the size, don't bother to look) to win the race that used to be outside your range of triumph or defeat. It's in your grasp now. Suck in some wind and blink away the sunshine and grip the grimy street surface with your shoes and SPRINT! There's no water or juice or carbs or hydrates needed for this race.

The finish line isn't in sight, but you're almost there. Your heart won't burst, but you run as if there's no tomorrow, legs pumping, heart pumping, a rictus of a smile pasted on your puss.

You forget gravity and the last couple of years and time flies by and conversations happen and music is heard, dances danced, people clapped on their backs...

and then you blink and look in the BIG MIRROR and gasp as you realize that...

You're happy again.


  1. Ah, shucks, friend, but, you are so right. I get surprised every day by joy. I went pants shopping last Thursday night and, when the size 36 jeans fit loosely, I had the nicest laughfest right in the middle of my living room.

    Thanks for riding with me,

    Joe(C'mere for a big hug)Nation

  2. Sure, just think of me as the conscience on your shoulder as you run.

    And do you really shop for pants in the middle of your living room?