Yeah You Right

Friday, October 22, 2004
 
Don't Fence Me In
So my world has shrunk down to a small, well-defined area. I measure the metes and bounds of my life as follows:

• The seven and a half feet between the fancy leather chair and the teevee;
• The collective 20 or so yards between the den, the bar, and the garage (home of the new exercise equipment, lawnmower, and new gas-powered trimmer [I tried, without luck, to find a Poulan Weed Eater in Atlanta, just for the sake of Independence Bowl victory over Notre Dame nostalga]);
• The 4 miles of Wieuca from Rickenbacker to Phipps and back to Roswell, as many times a week as possible (but not enough);
• The 50 floors between Lower Level 5 and 45th floor offices of 191 Peachtree;
• The 550 miles between Atlanta and Baton Rouge;
• The unbelievably vast stretch between Tuesday and Saturday morning, and commensurate distance between the Boy's home/life with Mom, Stepdad, and Lil' Bro in East Cobb and casa Dad.

According to Thoreau, "the mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." Some also blare Bobby Womack loudly at 2 a.m. alone in the night, to little effect.

 - posted by Tommy Paycheck @ 2:20 AM   |    permalink    |   
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