B Sides...

I live about 35 miles outside Boston in a town of about 35,000 people.  We chose this town because it was relatively close to where I work, had pretty good schools and was, all things considered for the Boston area, relatively inexpensive.

Now I must say though, we moved here from Cary, NC which is just about the opposite of the town we live in now.  Cary is pretty much a planned community where each of the neighborhoods have very strict covenants.  The houses within a community might appear to be slightly different from each other, but the are really all the same.  The houses are well tended and looked after.  In most of the neighborhoods it's against the rules to park any sort of boat of RV in the driveway, and even building a tree house in the back yard requires permission from the community board.

When I think back to this area, what I remember most though are the roads.  They are so nice, and in fact the median strips even have flowers planted in them.  All of the shopping centers are well designed and set back so that it's hard to even notice them.  In fact, when I first moved there, I couldn't find a grocery store and came to the conclusion that all people in Cary must simply not eat.  It was only after a few days of driving around that I learned that just because the shopping centers are cleverly hidden doesn't mean they aren't there.  In fact, I soon to learned that there were four grocery stores within a mile of my house.

Massachusetts is a bit different.  For one thing, it's an absolutely horrible place to be a road.  From November to April the roads are under constant bombardment by freezing rain, snow, tons of salt and then it gets warm enough for things to thaw for a few hours and then freeze again.  In fact, most of the roads are positively awful as far as roads go.  The interstates are pretty well taken care of, but the roads that wind through the towns, not so much.

That said, I've become fond of them.  So much so that I no longer use the interstate for my commute to and from work.  I take all side roads that wind and twist their ways around small hills, swamps, ponds and shopping centers.  But for the 10 extra minutes or so that it takes me each way, I get to be alone.

I drive a little Mini-Cooper S.  It feels like a go-kart and even though it's not going to out run a Porsche, the six speed gear box lets me have the feeling, if ever so slight, that I'm doing something other than just driving back and forth to work.

During my drive, I listen to books.  I'm not getting smarter doing that, they are mostly mystery novels, usually set in the UK or Northern Europe, but they take me away, at least temporarily from my very average life.

And it was only as I was thinking about this that I was reminded of the Supertramp song "Take the Long Way Home".  When the album "Breakfast in America" came out, I was barely a teenager and the song that was so popular was the second song on the A-Side of the album titled the "The Logical Song".  I hardly ever heard "Take the Long Way Home" because it was on the B-Side of the vinyl album and who bothered to actually flip the album over, especially since the A-Side was so good.

Though I liked "Take the Long Way Home", I didn't really understand the meaning of it, so it really didn't have an effect on my.  It was only later when I was older that I realized it was about a man, coming home from work, deciding to take the long way home so that he could, just for a few minutes, imagine that he was somebody other than who he really was.  And even when I realized what the song was about, I didn't imagine that one day, I would be that man, deciding to take the long way home thinking about all of the things I could be but realizing that one I am is the one on the A-Side -- the side that everyone plays.  I am what people see and I try so hard to make the A-Side good, that no one thinks to flip the album over and look at the B-Side.

Morning Wakeup...

Many years ago when I was in high-school, and then later on in college and the early years of my first real job, I woke up to the loud buzzing of an alarm clock.  It was a very handy piece of machinery, and when I remembered to set it, was very reliable.  It's one weak spot was the snooze button which became my friend and was more often than not the reason I found myself rushing to get showered, dressed and out of the house to get on with my day.

Later, there was a period of time in my life, where for reasons usually related to late nights out with friends, I found the alarm clock wasn't so reliable.  To be sure, it would go off, but was easily turned off and given my still inebriated condition, quickly forgotten.  Fortunately, I made it through this period without causing too much damage to myself or others.

And after emerging from this fog, I became fascinated with the idea of living a very disciplined sort of life, almost monk like in fact.  I was in bed by 9:30 and up at about 5:30.   I loved the feeling of being able to wake up in the still dark of the morning and have this time to myself and revel in the fact that I was simply able to do it.

Now, I'm older.  I'm a bit more tired.  My days are long and I have trouble falling asleep for reasons I will get to in later editions, and the morning is once again not so much my friend.  But what I do have  now that I didn't have before is an absolutely reliable alarm clock, one that simply won't take no for an answer.  And the truth is, I wouldn't trade her for anything.  Her picture is below.

Her name is Peggy.  This is a picture of her staring at me after having just woken me up.  She is very demanding.  If I don't reach down and start petting her upon immediately being awoken, she digs her nose under the covers looking for my arm reminding me that she is there and has once again done her job and that she should be rewarded for it.  In fact, I was barely able to grab my camera and get this shot off before she was after me again.

She is wonderful.  A two year old Great Pyrenees/Golden Retriever mix that our family rescued.  Her life is very simple -- she wants to be loved, and of course rewarded for waking me up, usually much earlier than I would otherwise desire.