graceland's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Philadelphia Freedom As I pulled into Port Authority tonight, my bus driver boomed "...and it is my pleasure to bring you safety into New York on this *resurrection* Sunday." My first thought was, how inappropriate a comment to a bus full of strangers. Surely not everyone this bus believes in the resurrection of Christ. In fact, wars are being fought all over the world over the belief behind that very simple statement. My second thought was about the resurrection itself and what that could mean to me. In mass today, the priest sermonized that it promises us a better, more permanent life after death. After mass today, as my family watched golf and cooked, I stood outside under a little overhang as the rain poured around me. I smoked a cigarette and looked at the houses around me, houses that I can remember from my earliest memories. I stared at the ocean as it crashed and the beach that I spent my entire life on from 2 weeks old, and I thought, I'm not ready to leave this. I don't know if I ever will be. That beach town is as much a part of me as a limb. I can't imagine anything better. I thought about skiing, people who are mountain people. I like to ski, but not a tenth as much as I love this sleepy beach town that I was raised in. I walked the boardwalk on Friday and followed behind some young skaters on their way to the new skatepark with their decks. We didn't have a skatepark when I was growing up. We skated in the parking lots, down the broadwalk ramps and on the those cement parking curbs. These kids climbed up the railing to look over a wall like I had done countless times growing up and checked out the pool at a local condominium. One said to the other, "It's pretty dirty, but I'd skate it." The following day I was walking by the same pool and I pulled myself up the railing to look over. I can't remember seeing the pool drained and uncovered before. I heard the voices of my youth, namely mine, saying to my friends late at night, "I'd do it. I'd jump in if you guys come." More calling their bluff than daring them. Lately it seems like more reliving memories than making them for me, but I suppose that's how it always is - remembering the past and not realizing that you are still shaping history. Coming back to New York today, I saw my future more defined. I don't think I am long for New York City. It's time for me to go home. Not quite home, but closer to it. I think one more year here and that will be it. It's time for me to start establishing a more permanent life for myself. Building a real future and stop playing around in this wonderful playground. I love New York. It's been great to me. But this isn't real life, not for me. One more year. I'll see what she brings me. And then I move on. 11:11 p.m. - 2004-04-11 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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