Thought @ Work

Recently I have had several strange things suddenly occur to me.

1. I was walking into work the other day alongside a few of the guys. Walking to punch the clock. All of a sudden, I got the overwhelming feeling that I was in one of those old depressing movies where the men are going to the mine they work in for the job they hate. The job they do to put food on their family's table.

I don't work in a mine. And I don't hate this job. But it is mindless. The nice thing about this is that I don't have to take it home with me. But it is frustrating to do this kind of work when I have a degree. And four helicopter ratings. And my drive. I have to remind myself that it pays my bills. It's just that I am not satisfied with "just paying the bills".

2. Similarly, I find myself in another place when I go to Paramount Theatre. Well, not place, but time. In this instance, the experience is grand.

I have always enjoyed seeing movies by myself. My favorite place to see a movie, above Alamo even, is the Paramount. And typically, I go there by myself. Although I have made a couple of exceptions lately, because I can sometimes be a nice person. But this really isn't important.

My point is this: When I'm watching a movie from 1934 at the Paramount, I feel like I am in 1934 at the Paramount. Even though I am in flip flops, shorts and a tank, I feel as though I am sitting amongst men in tailored suits and fedoras, discarding peanut hulls on the floor. In my mind, I hear the movie reel turning, I see dust hanging in the air and I feel a trickle of sweat on my temple, even though I am actually freezing because the theatre is kept so cold these days. I remain there until the curtain closes and the noisy teenagers begin to file out. This is the kind of time travel I really enjoy.

3. Two years ago I got a call from my best friend from my childhood. She called to tell me she was getting married. At the point, if you asked me which of my friends would be the first to get married, Amanda would never have crossed my mind.

Two days ago Amanda had a son. I have not seen them yet, but when I thought of her holding her tiny new baby, I got the strangest feeling. Amanda's family is my family and mine is hers. I am happy that she had a boy, because, if it were a girl, she was going to name it Emory. Emory will be the name of my first child. Emory is my second family's name.

Amanda and I are a year apart, and we grew up in different towns, but our lives have largely mirrored each others. So it was strange when she agreed to marry. It is also strange that I am now (arguably) married. But her having a kid!?! Now, don't get me wrong. I think about eventually having kids. But she has one now. I don't have to tell you what enormous significance and consequence that comes along with. Not that she isn't a responsible person, but it is quite surreal to think of her in that way, because, now, she will never be apart from that image. And that image is very much incongruous with the image I have had of her for the past 10 years.

4. It is also surreal to pass a vehicle with Disabled Veteran plates and see that the driver is someone I might see at a bar, a handsome young man nearly my age.