Tuesday, June 01, 2004

Bedford

Even when I was little I didn’t understand where everyone was scurrying off to. There seemed to be a secret club, rituals and rites learned from primordial time that was understood by all. Girls with their little outfits, boys joining teams and forming circles, all accompanied by voluminous amounts of mind numbing dialogue. Everyone was engrossed.
As I grew up the subject matter changed but the dialogue remained the same. Cars, homes, degrees, spilling coffee in the car surrounded by traffic on an otherwise beautiful sunny morning.
I like people, I just don’t understand any of them.
You know the sound a swing makes, the metal on metal sound? Yeeeeek Haaaaaw Yeeeeek. I can hear that solitary swing from a cold fall playground day telling me then that some day it would be different.
So, what, they make swings out of plastic now, right?


5 comments:

Michael said...

Hey Marc,
Nice post. I feel the same way. One of my earliest memories was my big sister and her friends ditching me. I was momentarily upset that I couldn't tag along, then realized being on my own was fine, too. I'm still that bratty little independent kid. Thanks for visiting my blog.

Jenn said...

Marc,
Am I really that difficult to understand?

Jenni said...

I don't think the rituals ever really end.

starz said...

i think you understand them more than you give yourself credit.

your writing wouldn't appeal to anyone if you didn't evoke something in them that they relate to.

everyone always feels left out of something. the trick, i think, is to make the effort to create your own place to belong.

carinne said...

starz says it all.