music: Martin Sexton- 9/14/01, Woodstock, NY
New Year’s, if nothing else, is an opportunity to pause and take stock of one’s life and how the events of the past calendar year have affected life. It’s a seemingly straightforward task, but is a tall order for he who is overly reflective. Iit’s sometimes nice not to be afforded the time to do all that year-in-review work. Equally as important is an excuse to seek out those who are important to one’s life. This year, meeting up with some of my oldest friends in Philadelphia accomplished both these points.
If all options were equally accessible, I’d be deep in the backcountry, well off pavement, pitching camp and cooking a simple meal over a fire with a handful of friends. Instead I found msyelf in the middle of a very large city bouncing from bar to club to bar along with thousands of other young professionals. I became lost in the sea of humanity, just one of thousands of guys with untucked collar shirts and jeans. Definitely not my thing but because of my company I managed to have a good time of it. I was lucky to be with some of my oldest friends (oldest as in we’ve known each other the longest). It’s an amazing thing to spend time with my friends from growing up. Because we are so entwined in each others’ personal development we have no troubles falling into a familiar comfort with one another. I feel no stress or obligation to be someone or do something with them; just sharing time and space is enough. I habitually and purposefully keep my attention on the path ahead of me day-to-day, but on occasions that allow me to turn an ear back I realize how important these people are to not only my growing up but to my current life. An illustration: I knew I didn’t really own clothes appropriate to the night’s activities (Carhartts and yard-sale plaid shirts probably wouldn’t cut it for a night on the town for NYE) and brought some of my work clothes as fallback, but secretly counted on scavenging from my friends. R. somehow foresaw this predicament of mine and brought an extra outfit thinking I’d need something to wear out. Neither one of us said anything about not having or bringing extra clothes, but it didn’t need to be said. It’s like that when you’ve known someone for over 20 years. Post-midnight calls from my old college roommates was the icing on the cake.
Philadelphia itself was an impressive place to me. I thought the street scene on Market Street after bar time was excellent: thousands of festive souls all enjoying the unseasonably warm weather, laughing, singing, carrying on, and talking with one another. Talking with one another! Complete strangers…never in Boston (short of the Red Sox winning the World Series). It was a great moment in time and I was glad to be a part of it. Never mind that this hubbub all took place in the Old City, just blocks away from a National Park. Philly’s neighborhoods are great as well-very distinct and colorful. We strolled through the Italian Market today and grabbed a Cheesesteak. It’s amazing how residential the city’s center is. Houses and apartments are very interspersed with historical landmarks, important government buildings (I spent the night less than a block away from the US Mint), and commerical centers. As downtowns go, Philadelphia is really a great setup.
I decided to return today despite the great change of scenery and great company. For one, the D.C. contingency of our party cleared out this afternoon. More to the point, the knowledge that I’d have to make the transition back to Mr. Taus weighed heavily on my conscience. The drive down and back, it turned out, was a worthwhile exercise in and of itself. Driving for distance has become something I’ve grown quite good at after our marathon driving this summer and as I was heading down to Philly I realized how much I missed the postmodern meditation of driving long hours on the Interstate System. The stretch I ran is perhaps the most developed in the country, with streetlight and strip mall being the rule, not the exception, but there were pockets enough on I-91 and I-84 to give me the illusion of driving through the more sparse landscapes not found on the Eastern Seaboard. Despite tackling some of the worst roads in the country I was also able to get some good thinking time in and clear my head of a lot of cobwebs. The freedom that the road affords is enough to put the routines and trappings of life in perspective, and despite falling into that distinctly American trap of sucking down over a tank of gas and shelling out over $20 in tolls I felt better about things just knowing I could do something like get up and go to Philadelphia if I wanted. And I did.
I made it back to Boston in just under 5 hours this evening. I had a good stretch of time on the road tonight to let thoughts simmer and glide in and out, time enough to reflect on the past year even after celebrating with some of my oldest friends. I hurtled through cities under darkness, shedding the previous year in the process and letting the dust settle enough to start the next, one singular life in a grey steel box gliding past countless others, content to find some sort of clarity in the jouney itself, hoping that upon returning home there will be strength, resolve, and room to begin the business of the next year.
Posted by davidtaus at January 1, 2005 11:51 PM