Down On Ferry Farm

While I was off for Memorial Day, I went to a part of town I don’t normally go. I ate food at a fast-food place to which I was unfamiliar. I drove down streets in which I was sure to get lost. I waved at neighbors who were unfamiliar to me. I needed to go to a place where nobody knows me. Then I realized, as I pulled up into my driveway afterward, that nobody knows me here at home. I wave at my neighbors but I don’t really know them. After yet another rejection, I was feeling a little melancholy. I drove around trying to find myself and my place in this world. I looked all around but couldn’t find myself anywhere. I guess that means I’m lost. Why is this so difficult? It looks so easy for others and even easier on TV (Yes, I know that TV is not reality). It is at this moment that I tell myself that I’ll be single for the rest of my life. Whatever dreams of a relationship I had were gone. Of course my all time favorite rationalization “I’m done with women”. Lately my brain has been all

I don’t want to get too excited about my date last night with my new “lady-friend”. She is a lovely person, we had a good time (I thought), but I just don’t know what she’s thinking. Here’s how things went: A few hours before we were scheduled to meet, I got a text message from her. She just wanted to make sure she was reaching the right person. We went back-and-forth, trading messages and our excitement for the evening. She asked that I meet her out front of the restaurant so she didn’t have to walk in alone. My response: “Of course”. I got to the restaurant a few minutes before our scheduled time (I like to be early) and waited only a minute or two before she arrived. I sent her a message as I sat in the Adirondack chair asking where she was. Her response: “pulling into a parking place now”. I looked up to see about 3 cars making their way into parking spaces. She got a spot right up front – in a very NEW looking Jaguar. We walked in and found there was about a 20 minute wait so we i

Several years ago I had tickets to see The Dave Matthews Band live at one of the local amphitheaters. I was so excited to go I could hardly stand it. I spent the weeks and days leading up to it monitoring the reports from the road on his website. Fans from each show were sharing the line-up of songs and it appeared he had a pretty good set going. I had bought two tickets because DubDub and I were still dating and she was a Dave Matthews fan as well. The first sign of things going wrong: she called and said she wasn’t going to be able to make it because one of her kids was sick (this is on the DAY of the show). The fact that she wasn’t going to be there took a huge amount of wind out of my sails but I carry on and go to the show. Then I’m driving to the show and traffic is ALL KINDS of backed up. Apparently, the show is sold out. It would have usually taken me 30 minutes or so to get to the venue – I was still sitting my car an hour and a half later. I kept thinking I was going to miss

Tonight, I couldn’t take it any longer. The planes had been flying overhead and I couldn’t stand it so I took a drive. You see, I live very near a Naval Air Station where the planes take off and land. About 60 percent of the time, it’s a quiet little neighborhood but when “the air wing comes in” it’s almost unbearable. Tonight was just too much and I had to get away. I was trying to watch TV and it seemed that whenever a joke went off a plane was flying overhead. It’s okay when I can read the close captioning but not all shows provide this service so it gets a little old hearing the build-up of a joke and then not fully hearing the punch line. So I took a drive. I originally went out looking for either ice cream or beer. I figured I’d just go someplace quiet and eat my ice cream or drink my beer. Turns out neither one happened – I just drove. I pull up next to this little silver car (at least it looked silver in the dim light) and – naturally – I look over at whoever is sitting in the

I used to live my life on a pretty even keel. On a 1 to 10 scale I usually hovered right around a 5. I might go as low as a 4 and high as a 6 – but not much more. Now I seem to be feeling the highs and lows much more clearly. The jury is still out as to whether I like it or not. The highs are really good but the lows are excruciating. I don’t like the lows. The low times come when I expect something quickly. As I’ve gotten older I have lost my patience. I don’t understand why. I’m sitting there waiting for something to be done, waiting to pick up a prescription, and the woman tells me it’s going to be 35 minutes. “For 20 pills?” I’m thinking to myself. The highs are really good. I love that feeling of getting my swagger back, a bit of confidence, my head held high and almost strutting around like I own the place. So my 1 to 10 scale usually runs between a 3 and an 8 now. I have expanded my horizons. It’s a lot like stroking a bruise on your arm that’s healing – there’s a bit of pain an

Personal space is kind of a weird thing – you don’t really notice it until someone encroaches upon it. Here recently I’ve had a couple of people get a little close while standing in line. So I’m in line the other day when this older black man is standing behind me. I only noticed him because he kept casually bumping into me. I don’t think there was any malice or intent in it, but I had to turn away a couple of times to give him the hint that what he was doing was bothering me. I ended up almost encroaching on someone else in front of me to ‘get away’ from this guy. I moved up quicker than I should have and – darn it – he moved up again. So here I am wedged in between two people I don’t even know. Then yesterday I was standing in line at a fast food place for lunch. I didn’t really notice the guy behind me until he started breathing on me. You read that right. He was a little taller than me with salt-and-pepper hair and a really big mustache. I’m standing there, minding my own business,

See also: Fear of. To say it out loud, with meaning, it carries some weight. To say it over and over 50 times will empty the word of its meaning. At that point it’s just a jumble of phonemes. For some people, rejection is a way of life. A baseball player’s life is based on how much he fails. A salesman makes more calls than sales. But when I put myself out there and the response I expect doesn’t come back at me – I call it rejection. Basically, you want to believe in yourself. You pump yourself up with words and phrases that inspire you to be the best person you can when, ultimately, it’s another’s opinion that unravels the whole sweater. Why do we do this to ourselves? I think it has to do with expectations… we expect that people are going to like us and accept us. We don’t want to do anything to upset the delicate balance we’ve built with them – the intimate trusts that bind relationships together. When they finally do reject us it’s as if that trust has been broken. It’s the build-u

So I go to lunch today to a place with an ‘all you can eat’ salad bar. I’m really hungry for salad and this place has got a really good salad bar. I step up the first time without incident. The next time I get up to go there are two women in line ahead of me. The first one in line is a tall blond woman in a power suit. The other woman in line is a bit shorter, healthy, brunette woman. They’re both sort of cute, which is why I get in line again. So blond woman is scooping her salad and brunette woman begins: Brunette: So, I think we’re going to have fun at the wedding this weekend? Blond: Why is that? Brunette: Because I don’t know anyone there. I don’t even know the couple getting married. It’s going to be a blast. Blond: Oh, yeah… Brunette: I hope there are some hot guys at this wedding…! Me: Oh yes, we’re always at these things. They both turn to look at me. The blond turns away, saying nothing. The brunette turns to look at me and it looks like she might smile for half a second but

On Superman’s advice and guidance, I’ve been dabbling on Craigslist and even scored myself a date. She and I had gone back and forth in e-mail, rather quickly I might add, before deciding to go eat. Well, we ate together. I’ll spare you all the details but in general she was a very nice girl who was still in the ‘trying to figure everything out’ stage. She has been divorced less than a year (something she failed to mention) and has a 7-year old son (something else she failed to mention). She sort of reminded me of one of the women I used to work with – a LOT! In the dim light of the restaurant, with her head turned the right way it was almost comical. Same mannerisms… everything. I’ve also been in contact with another one that seems to suit me much better. I couldn’t craft better words from her even if I could. Well, I could but they wouldn’t be very realistic (you know what I mean…) I had sent my picture to this other ‘contender’ a week ago and I never heard from her again so when thi