Life Is Such A Sweet Insanity.

I’ve mentioned to Earl on a couple of occasions over the past month or two that I would like to play football with some other like minded guys sometime. I’ve mentioned that we need to go to a bigger city and get on a gay football team or something and just hang out and have some fun.

As a youngster I was always terrified of the sport, because after all, I was a ‘band fag’ and they don’t do sports. Finally, twenty-five years later, I feel secure enough with myself that I could play in a football game and actually know what’s going on and maybe get a little bit dirty and banged up blocking people. Earl says he throws a mean football and I’m anxious to have him show me his technique this spring.

I never would have imagined myself on a football field actually playing the game. Now I can’t wait for the opportunity!

I don’t know if the turn towards spring weather, the working out and eating healthy or what, but today I can best be described as being “chilled”. Things aren’t bothering me. The usual work-related pressures aren’t getting to me. People that usually annoying me beyond reason are not getting on my last nerve today.

It’s a refreshing change of pace.

Earl occasionally reminds me that this is the way I need to be about life all the time; I approach things with a “gloom or doom” attitude that brings my whole outlook on the human experience down. I need to look at the brighter side of life and I would find that things aren’t as bad as they seem.

For example, driving home for lunch I was stuck behind an oversized beat up Lincoln. It’s back end was nearly dragging on the pavement, the license plate was burned looking and crooked and ample amounts of smoke was coming out of the tailpipe and the windows from the driver and front seat passenger. They were driving at least 25 MPH below the speed limit. Due to the geometry of the road, I was unable to pass them, so I had to stay behind them in my sporty little rice-burner and try to avoid enhaling the smoke. Usually I would beat on the steering wheel, scream at them (even though they couldn’t hear me) until my face was red and tailgate them, doing my best to make them uncomfortable on the road. Did I do that? No, I patiently and calmly followed them at a reasonable distance behind them. Why the change in attitude? Quite frankly, the old behavior is not worth the time nor effort. They’re not going to change their ways, so why throw a hissy fit about it?

Because of this chilled attitude, I’m finding that I’m enjoying my lunch hour much more. I’m not losing patience with Tom as he plays the “in and out game” with the back patio door.

I hope I can keep this kicked back attitude up. I rather like it.

Upon getting settled in for Monday at work today, I was asked what I did this weekend. I responded that Earl and I jumped in the Jeep and went for a ride. When asked our final destination, I told them about our trip to Martinsburg, W. Va.

“Oh, do you know someone in Martinsburg?”

“Uh no.” (Come to find out we know someone that lives in that general vicinity but that’s another story).

“Then why did you go there?”

I really resisted the urge to say “because it’s there” and instead responded with the fact that it was near 50 degrees, the sun was shining brightly and there was no snow on the ground.

My co-workers shook their head in disbelief. “You drove seven hours in one direction for that?” The funny thing is Earl and I didn’t think twice about driving seven hours in one direction for unlimited ribs and a few beers at a chain restaurant called “Texas Steakhouse and Saloon”. Since I had a few beers at dinner on an empty stomach, that’s essentially all we ended up doing, though I had good intentions to do more after supper.

There’s just something about riding in a vehicle and exploring the countryside that is very, very appealing to me. I think some of it has to do with my childhood; my family would often go for a Sunday ride in our ’78 Impala and those rides hold very happy memories for me. When I was younger, we’d pile into the ’71 Heavy Chevy and make the 75-mile round trip trek to my grandparents “in the city”. My other grandparents seemed to be a happy couple, and they went for rides all the time, driving 100 miles in one direction for supper in an out of the way restaurant in Gouverneur (look at a map of New York, you’ll see how ‘out of the way’) and drove the country twice a year (“south” and “west” in February, “north” and “west” in September). I remember them holding hands at brunch almost up until the day my grandmother died.

When Earl and I got together for our first date, we spent that entire weekend together. On that Sunday long ago, we drove in my Hyundai Excel up into the mountains of Vermont, just simply talking and getting to know each other. I felt like I knew more about Earl that day than I knew about my first two boyfriends combined. I remember feeling so lucky on that day, having found someone that seemed to enjoy going for a ride as much as I did. And you know what? Even though that first ride together was just shy of 10 years ago, to this day Earl and I still discover more about each other and thrive on exploring the country side by side in the Jeep or whatever.

I could spend my life on the road and not complain about it. There is so much out there to discover and experience. And we are going to continue to experience all we can.