Just took a nap and had some strange flashback dream. Five years ago this evening … before I was a glimmer in LC’s eye, I was working part-time as a ramp worker at Tucson Airport for an airline who shall remain nameless (initials may be familiar to recovering alcoholics). Anyway, it was an evening shift. In Tucson this was also known as the "sunset shift".

I remember standing out on the hot, skin-melting asphalt, waiting for the plane to arrive, watching the sunsets reflecting off the parked planes.

In particular, I recall driving a baggage loader across the length of the tarmac to the plane, with the sun creeping under the mountains in front of me. Like skimming a land cruiser over the surface of Tatooine …

Then we’d unload the bags, hurry back to the aircraft to clean the seats, vacuum, clean the bathrooms, usually getting interrupted by our crew chief who’d scream "clear to land" and we’d all run out of the plane and get in position to dock the next one. We’d repeat this four times and, just like that, the night would be over.

Then I’d hop into the ‘85 Grand Marquis, head down to the Circle K on Tucson Blvd. and Valencia, put in (always) five dollars of gas, gulp down a Mountain Dew and wolf down something resembling a hot dog. Drive home, smelling like sweat and lav spray. And wake up in the morning to deliver flowers.

Five years later, I’m on a lunch break on Pennsylvania Ave., noshing on a Cosi sandwich on artisan bread, as Ivy leaguey power interns yammer on oh-my-god about this and that. And I miss (? — well, at least think about) the sight of pierced, tattooed kids buying blunts at the Circle K. Very different head-spaces. I wonder what a cheeseburger-dog on artisan bread would taste like?

  Matrix in autumn 
  Originally uploaded by praxis88.

Morpheus: Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.

And so I did. With my dad in tow, I down to the Toyota dealership, and once I sat down in the seat of the phantom gray ‘06 Matrix and drove it around the neighboring streets, I was sold. It’s got the reliability and fuel efficiency of a Corolla, the cargo and passenger space of an SUV, and it’s fun to drive and not too bad to look at. Add a moonroof, a 6-disc CD changer and a very reasonable price (plus a nice discount thanks to one Rich S. who’s friends with the sales manager) and a name and logo is oddly reminiscent of Tom Daschle’s favorite metal band, and you’ve got one satisfied ex-hessian driver. I’m the man! Pics forthcoming ….

I had a great title prepared for this post. I was talking to S. on the instant messenger, and I said, well, life’s pretty mellow here, not much drama to report here, perhaps a nod to the Gulf is in order, I’ll name the post something like "(nothing kills) rock like a hurricane." Referring to one miss Rita and its after-effects in the city of Houston, including the silencing of the local Motley Crue concert. The devil shouts back! Which by extension strikes a blow to rock itself.

But what can I really say that hasn’t been expressed at the scene by Leaving Rita (the news as it happened), the Rolling Seance wrap-up, and Lugubrious’ "Lovely Rita"? Not much, not much at all. So I tip my cap to them, the faithful H-town reporting contingent, and move on.

To my own life. Quiet and drama-free. Well, not really — there have been some dating escapades (uhh yeahhh, well, dramatic to be sure, but not yet ripe for the blogging), some work-related moving and shaking (I start a 4 month detail tomorrow in a new division), and finally, some real estate pins and needles, which culmimated on Friday with the signed documents and the cutting of checks, and selling of the condo once and for all. A few canceled debts, and some excess pocket change later, I can look back at all those white-knuckle commutes and conculde that in the end, it was all worth it. Financially, at the least.

[two sour rambling paragraphs about D.C. area traffic spill out here, subsequently deleted. Not a pleasant read.]

AARRRGHHHH!!!! But enough of that! It’s over. It’s so so over. I should be decompressing. No — I AM decompressing. It doesn’t happen overnight. But it will happen. Peace out — I’m going for a walk.