New Jeers Rolexations

Po Boy Views

By

Phil LaMancusa

A Hazy Shade Of Winter

Or

New Jeers Rolexations

            “Time is the longest distance between two places”: Tennessee Williams

It’s about time! It’s about friggin’ time! Yes, it’s about time that I catch up with my life and stopped spending so much time behind time wasting precious time. I’ll tell you a story if you can spare a minute.

            I have a theory. The theory is that there’s not enough time in our lives. Duh, huh? Sure we may save time, make, manage, invest and preserve time; but we also waste time, spend time and fritter our time away. We mark time. We sometimes treat time as a commodity; we get paid for our time getting things done in a ‘timely manner’. Sometimes for our sanity’s sake we treat ourselves to some time alone time off time away quality time with others. We may lavish our time on another person; take up their time or take our time doing things. And, if we get busted we may actually have to do time. The younger we are the more time we have ahead of us (not counting ‘time outs’); as we age we have less-- less time to get our missions accomplished. Time isn’t on our side; time’s a thief; time flies when you’re having fun; time passes quickly or time drags. Who hasn’t wished to be able to time travel especially when someone starts laying a trip beginning with: “when was the last time…?”

            Personally, there’s never enough time in my life; fact is, I could be three people and still not have enough time to get done everything, and now it’s the New Year and time has run out. What have I got to show for the time that I was given last year? Sure, there‘s were good times bad times; but did I really accomplished anything with my time last year?

            Have I written or even started my Great American Novel? Practiced more piano? Painted my masterpiece? Secured that retirement job in an exotic clime? Won the lottery struck it rich hit the big time? Had the time of my life? Or did I let time slip away? Well it’s about time that that changes.

            So here it is January and I am resolving to use my time henceforth both wisely and well. I lived 2013 like I was a three minute egg timer; herky-jerky like a marionette with a case of Sydenham’s Chorea (St. Vitus).  I’m coming into 2014 at double time a two timer old timer; it is my resolve to alter and illuminate myself to the next level; to use my time instead of my time using me.

            The sun always rises too soon and with it my day begins; time to wake up, time to go back to sleep. Time for coffee, fix a smoothie and some lunch to take with me. Time to feed the critters. Girlfriend is also up, cleaning, straightening, littler box duty, watering our little patch of greenery. Does the trash man come today? Recycling? Do we need to make groceries hardware store pet food? What’s for dinner? Ow, my back again. Remind me to call the vet mechanic neighbor sister chiropractor. Remind me that that bill needs paying, do we have time for more coffee, read the paper my book the mail, brush teeth shave shower shampoo? Make up the bed shake out the comforter and “who peed on the rug?” And we ain’t even out the friggin’ barn yet.

            Wave to the neighbors. Take the dogs to the park throw the balls pick up litter. Now it’s time for work. We work six to eight shifts a week each, work out at the gym swim go out for drinks watch the tellie do another load of laundry dinner dishes, the car needs gas oil shocks brake tag insurance. Bills bills bills. When’s the election? Can you believe what he said she said did told me is rumored to have gossiped? Time for bed.  Roll over let me spoon you good night have pleasant dreams. Tell me again, where did the time for romance go?

            I am supposed to be retired, only the only thing I am is tired. It was simpler when I was single, but I didn’t get much done. I left my bed undone, went out for coffee, slept in, stayed out and let the laundry pile up until I got to the bottom of my sock drawer; open the back door and let the dog out if the cat’s thirsty he should learn to drink out of the ……

            “Time time time, see what’s become of me.”  Talk talk talk. It seems I spend days on end talking to people. The only time the chatter stops is when I’m in my cups. Time out. Or, believe it or not, another time the voices stop is when I’m in my kitchen. Thyme in. A couple of weeks ago I went for a five hour walk, speaking to no one. Actually that’s not true; I set myself on a mission: I would see where they sold Lucky Strike unfiltered cigarettes; I found about twenty places that did not. Except in the French Quarter.

            The point is that at the pace that I’m going, I don’t have time for a quiet thought and I think it’s driving me crazy. Why when you’re with someone are you required to talk? When you go out, why is it required that someone talk sing share dance emote grab your attention? Is that why flirting is so satisfying—the eyes do the talking? I find that it’s at quiet time that I get to sort things out; I need to take the time to do that. And that’s my one resolution. Time.