the furriest caterpillar

we ride into princeton, new jersey, rolling slowly through the jungle of trees, the lushness of which is stunning. it is the furriest caterpillar you have ever seen. it is a place that immediately grabs me, and seduces me into daydreaming of late night walks on the narrow streets. i find myself wishing badly that i had come back east for college, but life didn't work that way. slept last night behind a grocery store just east of trenton, which was seemingly one endless ghetto. the broken buildings, hiding the broken lives, the streets littered with trash. i was struck by how small the worldview of the people there seemed; ie: their perception of distance. when they told us things were far away, i was stunned at how close they really were. made me think that their lives may not reach out very far beyond the shattered walls and crumbling streets. though i confess, my knowledge of their world is so limited, i couldn't even really begin to make any assesment. none.

so they finally shut down the lights behind the grocery store after midnight, and the sleep was peaceful and hard, a reminder that sleep is so easily attainable when so deeply needed. so today feels electric and charged with light. sitting now in a brewery having lunch, awaiting my banana split. fuck yes! bob marley singing 'no woman no cry,' one of the more brilliant songs written in my opinion, the emotion in his voice the sweet sugar of an honest heart. and the mind drifts. i am on the patio at a restaurant in canada with keri, eating my salmon and her pasta {which was quite a bit better than my salmon} watching the sun land on her face. the face of the woman i will soon marry, a thought that still fills me with such a tumult of joy and gratitude. immeasurable. and as the end grows close, i wish to write and write. to document every moment, every second. i wish to breathe it all in to my lungs and never let it go. i try, as i have throughout the entire trip to live in this moment, and this moment only, but find {as i always have} that this is an extremely difficult task. how can i, when friday night, i will sit on some rooftop in new york, playing music and having a beer or two with " reid maclean. how can i keep from drifting there? there, there.

ps.
no takers on the haircuts, though yesterday evening, i did come so close that i had removed my scissors from my bag, and was pushing my hands through a 62 year old east indian man's hair. sadly, he backed out at the last minute, feeling as though he needed to get home with the mcdonalds for his family. alas.

Posted by jeff pitcher at August 11, 2004 02:05 PM

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