My own personal Jesus

Depeche Mode really has nothing to do with anything other than its a great song. For some reason it seems to fit how I feel right now. I found a bracelet at the Dave & Busters and started wearing it. It was the first night after XXXX entered my life. Doors close and open and people come and go and now she is here and for the first time in a while I am not writing out of anger or pain. I am writing because of happiness.

I never wore jewelry before besides a necklace and of course my wedding ring. I always thought the man makes the man and not what he wears.

Lately however, I have been flipping faith. Black is white and I live my life within shades of grey. I am a new spin on the same person. Remixed and renewed and I wear this sparkling band of silver and smile knowing my faith in fate has brought me a shiny new gift.

Labor Day Revisited

It's an attempt to carry an emotion. In order to describe it fully and completely one must go back again. I must go back to where it started. Labor day weekend. The first thing I remember is Tom. Slick back and sandal wearing; you were the reason we got the gig. Oh to be of the freewheeling 20’s again. Hold on to your youth while you can. Time fades people to shades of gray.

The next image takes me to the walk. To escape a little I decided to walk the boardwalk. Swallowed by the sounds I take out my recorder to capture the sound as if capturing the moment whole. I finally sent you this to you. Did you ever listen to it? Those walks up and down the walk; the people the sights and sounds. An energy filled the air.

That one crazy night. I almost laugh evens time I think about it. Bikers, not motorcycles, but bicyclists, complete with Spandex pants. The crowd was great and the party pulsated into the night. How can one forget a certain request from a certain lady? Scars and lacerations covered her hands. Perfectly acceptable from a country girl but it did throw me back. I blinked and she was gone; standing outside on the steps a little too wasted to walk.

The nights were so long and I couldn't wait to leave, but now that I go back there in my mind, there was certainly something in the air. Was it the Smell of summer dying? Was it the final hurrah of La Martinique? Was it you?

Maybe it was something that can't be described. Maybe it was just knowing that it was real. That summer had meaning. That summer did happen. Call it a life bookmark.