Early Morning Spatial Reality:Sometimes I want an SUV Life.
I wonder sometimes, in awe, at the contra-dance that is the morning drop-off line of cars at the Middle School. Three grades drop off at three different entrances in the back of the school. Two lanes, one rotary, many cars,kids with poster boards, back packs, girls in short skirts in the rain, and moms and dads some just-barely-awake.
People seem to grok the pace and policy most mornings, and it is an intricate web of "You go...no, YOU go's". People are *actually* polite. Go Figure. Now, in Pittsburgh, this would not be an amazing thing. Boston, um, it should be written in the front pages of the Globe:
"North Andover Residents found to be Polite in Early Morning Shuffle."
This morning, as I was do-si-do'ing with an SUV I caught glimpse of a dad-hand holding a commuter mug of coffee, wedding ring glinting in the non-existent morning sun. Wipers swishing back and forth, I found myself in midst of a poignant moment.
Some days I want an SUV life. With a "nice" man, who wears a wedding ring and holds his coffee mug on the way to dropping the kids off at school. He probably made me some coffee and brought it to me before he left in the herd of backpacks and squealing, whining preteens.
My rattling 1989 Toyota Camery bumbles into the lot bearing the bumper stickers that read:
"Well Behaved Women Rarely Make History" and "Carefully disguised as a Responsible Adult"
If it were not for the Hip-Hop station blaring on the radio I doubt my teenager would even allow me to enter the four-block radius. She hates my post-hippy-yet-well-educated-massage-therapist-to-be life. She wants a life more like Dad's, resplendent with grand pianos, fancy cars, trips to Tuscany.
I really don't want the SUV. Just the guy with the coffee cup, someone who is willing to invest in the love of his life as much and as deeply as this man is willing to invest in debt...someone to drive my kids to school, make me coffee.
Maybe the fact that I only have 500 bux in the bank after paying my $1,400 rent is getting to me.
Damn ambition.
Damn it to hell.
People seem to grok the pace and policy most mornings, and it is an intricate web of "You go...no, YOU go's". People are *actually* polite. Go Figure. Now, in Pittsburgh, this would not be an amazing thing. Boston, um, it should be written in the front pages of the Globe:
"North Andover Residents found to be Polite in Early Morning Shuffle."
This morning, as I was do-si-do'ing with an SUV I caught glimpse of a dad-hand holding a commuter mug of coffee, wedding ring glinting in the non-existent morning sun. Wipers swishing back and forth, I found myself in midst of a poignant moment.
Some days I want an SUV life. With a "nice" man, who wears a wedding ring and holds his coffee mug on the way to dropping the kids off at school. He probably made me some coffee and brought it to me before he left in the herd of backpacks and squealing, whining preteens.
My rattling 1989 Toyota Camery bumbles into the lot bearing the bumper stickers that read:
"Well Behaved Women Rarely Make History" and "Carefully disguised as a Responsible Adult"
If it were not for the Hip-Hop station blaring on the radio I doubt my teenager would even allow me to enter the four-block radius. She hates my post-hippy-yet-well-educated-massage-therapist-to-be life. She wants a life more like Dad's, resplendent with grand pianos, fancy cars, trips to Tuscany.
I really don't want the SUV. Just the guy with the coffee cup, someone who is willing to invest in the love of his life as much and as deeply as this man is willing to invest in debt...someone to drive my kids to school, make me coffee.
Maybe the fact that I only have 500 bux in the bank after paying my $1,400 rent is getting to me.
Damn ambition.
Damn it to hell.
posted by Sparkmonkey at 4:44 AM
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