This Perfect World

"Far from where people dwell he cuts a shaft, in places forgotten by the foot of man; far from men he dangles and sways. The earth, from which food comes, is transformed below as by fire; sapphires come from its rocks, and its dust contains nuggets of gold. No bird of prey knows that hidden path, no falcon's eye has seen it. Proud beasts do not set foot on it, and no lion prowls there. Man's hand assaults the flinty rock and lays bare the roots of the mountains. He tunnels through the rock; his eyes see all its treasures. He searches the sources of the rivers and brings hidden things to light. But where can wisdom be found? Where does understanding dwell?"

There is one time a year when you get a guaranteed second chance, when you are allowed to turn back your clock and fix any mistakes you may have made during the past twenty four hours. This is an opportunity that many do not take advantage of. One day a year we get twenty five hours in a day and there are those who spend that extra hour watching another episode of Baywatch.

Despite the invention of Franklin Planners and computerized schedulers it is still amazing how much time we waste and let slip away. We may never figure out time. Seems like the older you get the faster time slips on by. I hate to continue to dwell on it, or in it, but it is becoming more and more clear to me that time is such a relative thing. Days that drag on speed up when as the old cliché goes, "you're having fun" or approaching yet another pressing deadline. There are days when things move in slow motion and it feels like you'll never make it through. Other days you could stay up all night and not get enough done.

One of the things I have come to most appreciate about my upbringing was my mother's decision to sign me up for piano lessons. There were times of doubt as I struggled through learning a chromatic scale or while butchering another Clementi or Bartok piece, and I'm sure I more than frustrated my piano teacher with all the time I devoted to learning the Beatles' catalog. Over the years however being able to pound out a song on the piano has been one of the best stress relievers in my repertoire. Whether it was through the lost lonely first few frustrating days of my freshman year of college or after one of those madcap Christmas rush days at Cheapo, going to my parent's house and playing some piano always got my mind back into a more peaceful state.

I always figured the day I could afford my own piano would be the day I could consider myself a success. Never seemed like a realistic goal and I never thought it would happen. To have my own piano meant being able to afford a place that could hold it. So last spring when I got my house and along with it a piano, there was the belief that after more than a few moments of struggling, I was on my way to at least some small amount of success. Unfortunately, as my time at the office piles up faster than the leaves in my yard, I really haven't had much time to enjoy my piano. It sits as a big keyholder in my living room. That old balance between professional and personal is as out of whack as my still to be turned back inner alarm clock. There is always some sort of compromise you need to accept to get to another step on that big ol' ladder of life.

Thus after a fifty hour work week the little fellow decided to take a breather this week. He decided to take a day off. That day off became but an hour off yet on an untypical Friday night he joined a group of friends for a pale Sam Adams at a local pub. Then afterwards he met up with another friend looking for a friend who showed him her new apartment after waltzing on down to the nearby Dairy Queen to enjoy a Heath Bar Blizzard. They settled in on her comfy used couch and watched Grease II one of her favorite movies, a movie made in the eighties taking place in the sixties when life was about a song and a dance, a girl named Stephanie and a mysterious man, the "cool rider," on a motorcycle.

It was all strangely familiar, reminiscent of things gone by, of another time, of the days of our lives of another familiar face. Sometimes we just need to be reminded of what is and should be important in our lives, of how valuable a quiet little friendship can be. He enjoyed the evening, her company, the setting, her enthusiasm in singing along with the entertainment, and yes even the time. What a fine Friday. It just goes to show that when afforded the rare opportunity of a second chance, sometimes you can get things right.