Doesn't know what he wanted and he doesn't know what he had

Now that Bob TV is out of the house, I've reacquainted myself with the living room, an area I had hardly visited over the last several months. The room had lost almost all appeal after Spira moved out and when she changed her mind out of spite and took with her the nice lamp that gave off a comfortable vibe, I couldn't bear sitting under the ceiling fan light with its invasive glare. More importantly, though, the chief reason I stayed away from that room was because Bob TV was always lurking about and there was the possibility that, when I'd be deep into a book or a movie, he'd come over and treat me to one of his interminable monologues, thus ruining my good time. Well, Bob TV's gone and we've got a new lamp and a nice area rug in the living room, so once again I have a room to hang out in.

And I'm actually watching a little TV now. Tonight, while eating dinner I watched Sean Penn and Eddie Vedder on the Charlie Rose show. They were there to promote Penn's new film Into the Wild. I've been really interested in seeing the movie, so stumbling onto this interview was a treat.

I've been trying to get my head around this sense of isolation I've been afflicted with for oh, say the last few years. Part of it is self imposed, part of it is just the flow of life. The self imposed part was born out of a general disappointment with my life. I don't mean to sound resentful or bitter, but after years of going out and coming home with nothing exciting happening in between, you kind of start taking the inward path. Oh, hell, maybe I've always been on that path and the reason for the mediocrity is because of my inability to interact in a meaningful way with others.

Shit, that's not really true at all!

I'm straying dangerously from whatever point I was in the process of making. Pay attention future writers: keep your point at arm's length and slap it if it wanders. I guess what I was trying to say is that, after a healthy and frequent amount of socializing over the years---with an excellent cast of friends, I might add---I feel, unlike most everyone I else I know, like I didn't take, whether it was out of sheer unluckiness or a secret wish, anything tangible from the experience. And that's not to sound ungrateful, even though it does; I've said it before and it bears repeating: I consider myself extremely fortunate to have had such high quality friends.

Okay, I'm not getting too far with this. Time to jump ship and move on to something else. If any of you feel like you "got" what I was getting at, then it wasn't in vain. To the rest, who are wondering just what the fuck I'm trying to say, welcome to my world.
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Recently, Rich informed me that he was getting a car. He'd been getting around on the T but felt it was time to get his own ride. He had gone so long without a car that he let his license expire, which meant he had to devote a painful day of going to the registry and getting it back.

A few days later, he went to the Cape to see his parents and get his car. His mother had just got a new one and was giving her old one to Rich. So, early one Saturday morning, Rich hopped on a bus and headed to Falmouth. It would be his last trip on a bus for a long time.

Or so he thought.

The following day I came home and saw him sitting in the living room. "Where's your new whip?", I asked using the latest and hippest lingo.

"I didn't get it", he said.

"What happened?", I asked seductively.

"My mother wasn't giving me the car to keep; turns out, she was just going to lend it to me for the week."

"How did that miscommunication happen? I asked with absolute authority.

"Dude, I don't know. I'm still getting over it. Oh, well, what am I going to do about it?"

"Man, that sucks", I said with a hint of impending violence.


Poor Rich. He had a good attitude about it, but that must have been a bit of a shock to go all the way down to the Cape to pick up your new car only to discover that it wasn't meant to be yours.

With that, I'm off to watch Yes Symphonic Live.