Spilt Wine

As I laid down to take a Sunday afternoon nap, I began to pray and meditate. As I was falling asleep, I envisioned my heart being given over to God so that He could remove all that was not pure. I asked him to cut way the greed out of my heart, then selfishness, lust, the pains from passed sins, and self-centeredness. There was not a whole lot left of my heart after all of that.

I came to a conclusion during my boring-ass drive to Bakersfield this afternoon.

There are no regrets in life if you believe and understand that all things work out according to His will for the greater good.

What makes today different from yesterday? I still woke-up feeling tired, just like yesterday and every other day. I drink my coffee and sit in front of my computer just wearing my underwear and t-shirt, just like yesterday and every other day. I drive to work; just to sit in my office, where I read and write reports, answer
phone calls, and on occasion, go out and make an arrest, but that has seem to have become monotonous as well. I hate the influx of life, however when I fall into a rhythm, I soon find myself bored. Where is the adventure? Where is the excitement? Why do long for such routine, yet despise it?

A couple of years ago I had my very own rubber band ball. The days had been slow at work and it appeared to me that our office had an abundance of rubber bands laying around, so I decided to create my own rubber band ball. At first it was difficult. I would get frustrated when it would start to unravel on me. But as the days passed and the more I poured my love and sweat into this little creation of mine, I became attached. I would lock him in my desk drawer before I left work at the end of the day and I would get jealous when co-workers would walk into my office and pick him up and start bouncing him like he was a child’s toy. “ Give me that!” I would snap.

Soon, he was big enough to be given a name. Alfred is what I called him. Together we would fight crime. It was cute in the beginning, because he could come along with me and ride inside my pocket. Now of course he has to ride in the passenger seat of the car. He is a good partner. He is the silent one and he lets me do all of the talking.

One day we pulled up on a house, where a probationary with a warrant was said to be staying. I got out of the car, and then open the door so he could be rolled to the front door. Alfred was massive; I had to look around him when I rolled him, because I no longer could see over him.

I knocked on the door and we heard some commotion coming from inside the house.
“ Probation” I yelled. Still nothing. At that point Alfred and I took a step back and I rolled him into the door, knocking the door off its hinges, right then, the guy we were after tried to pull a gun out of his waist band, but before he could get it aimed, Alfred had rolled up on top of him and the gun when off. It was silent. I rolled Alfred back only to find the bullet had bounced off Alfred and killed the guy we came to arrest. Then I looked at Alfred and he looked at me.

I knew that look. Something was wrong. When I looked down I saw that several rubber bands had been broken and that he was unraveling. I started to cry as Alfred shrunk. I sat there in a pile of rubber bands as the medics and police wadded through what was left of Alfred.

I miss my friend Alfred, big old ball of rubber love.

" I'd also gone through an entire year of celibacy based on my feelings that lust was the direct cause of birth which was the direct cause of suffering and death and I had really no lie come to point where I regarded lust as offensive and even cruel." "Pretty girls make graves" was my saying. - Jack Kerouac, Dharma Bums.

So, it's Saturday night. The day passed faster than one would ever expect or want. Partly due to that Audrey and I slept in late and took our time getting ready, oh and that I read 8 chapters of Kerouac‘s Dharma Bums in bed. At about noon, I had lunch with my friend Scott. We enjoyed a conversation about Iraq over half-way decent sandwiches and ice tea at Ryan‘s place.

Anyhow, the rest of the day passed by doing chores around the house. Later on in the evening after a supper of barbecue chicken, corn on the cob and garlic bread, I went out front to enjoy my pipe for a little bit. The sun had set in the West, coloring the sky a dark royal blue. A few stars danced in the sky as the wind slightly blew from the North, teasing the trees of our quit suburban neighborhood. Deep in thought, I wonder, how could it ever get better than this? Then panic struck me. Could it go all go down hill from here?

Ice age heat wave can't complain
If the worlds that large why should I arraign
Walked away to another plane
Gonna find another place maybe one I can stand

I move on to another day
To a whole new town with a whole new way
Went to the porch to have a thought
Got to the door and then I couldn't stop

You don't know where and you don't know when
But you've still got your worries and you've got your friends
Walking on to another day
Work a little harder work another way

Well uh uh baby i ain't got no plan
But i'll float on maybe would you understand
Gonna float on maybe would you understand
Well I'll float on maybe will you understand

- Modest Mouse, World at Large