numbers

No Reply

So I hung out with my Dad last night. It was sort of a last minute decision to flee the city and and certain debaucherous binge drinking, and spend some quality time with the family. We ate delicous steaks which the old man cooked on the grill. It's important to note that the weather was bad in the biblical sense last night, so much so that after checking on the steaks my dad claimed that "the weather outside is fit for neither man nor beast". But the meat was perfect. I love the char on the outside of a steak when inside it's a perfect bloody pink. I'm getting hungry just typing about it.

So, after dinner we watched the Pats "team of destiny" lose to Denver in a top shelf game that left me feeling very very manly inside. Lilyk's text message "Hail Mary, full of interception" had me giggling for a solid 15 minutes. As is our custom, we listened to music into the late evening. First we watched about 5 songs from the live Cream DVD. Watching Jack Bruce play fretless bass and Ginger Baker pound out a 10 minute drum solo is the perfect accompanyment to seeing Clapton tear a Fender to shreds. After that, we moved to the stereo where we listened to what is becoming not only a staple in numbers/numbers' dad current playlist, but also one of my favorite songs ever. The Beatles, No Reply. Amazing stuff.

There was a fair bit of chat about my future, which left me feeling both intrigued and terrified. I have to start making plans for my future, which has reared it's ugly head for the first time in years. I hate the future. I love the present. The present is great, the future is full of uncertainty. Uncertainty really burns my ass. I guess I've been lucky not having to worry about a lack of certainty for the past 5 years, but eventually the shift is always over. I have to make changes, and I don't like it. I want to live a Peter Pan existence, where I don't have to grow up and I don't have to worry about tomorrow. Wouldn't that be lovely?

It snowed last night. There were gale-force winds north of the city, and the snow being whipped around by the wind, standing out against the floodlights, is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. I love the winter. The ground is sealed up tight, the air is brisk and cold and stings your lungs. You can see the deep footprints of animals through open spaces, and spot hoarfrost and snowdrifts everywhere. When it rains and then freezes right afterwards, it looks like the trees are made of glass. Everytime they sway, I feel like they might just crumble into a million shards. And it always carries over to the next day. Downed trees block roads and make you detour through snowy backroads. The footprints in last nights snowfall have turned into ice. Perfect footprints made of ice lead up and down the sidewalks, like the ghosts of the feet that left them, waiting to trip you up. When I open my patio door to smoke, the wind rushes in like a noreaster and chills me to the bone. But I don't care. I love the winter. The snow, the glass trees, the icen footsteps, the chilling wind: they're all part of today. Right now. Maybe tomorrow they'll all melt away, and that will be sad. But I don't want to think about it, I just want to think of today. The future is too scary.