The “What-ifs” and “I-hope-nots”

I close each program that is open before I shut down my PC.  When the screen finally goes black I unplug the wireless mouse and iPod headphones from the computer and tuck them away in my desk drawer.  I slide back my chair from my corner desk and flick my thigh so that the chair rotates like an automated clothing rack at the dry cleaners.  My coat is now facing me and I’m looking towards the Exit sign when the coat slides over both arms and is popped up onto my shoulders.  I turn back around and grab the shoulder strap of my new Dakine bag and adjust the soft pad on the strap so that it rests neatly on my collar bone; and toss the strap over my head and onto my shoulder.  A slight adjustment of the strap pad and I’m good to go.  I check for my wallet, phone and keys before I turn back around with my hands in my pocket.

I’ve always felt awkward leaving work at 4:30pm, all the while never feeling awkward that I’m the first to arrive at 8:00am – and not to mention the 140 minute commute each way.  As I reach the end of the aisle of desks I turn to my right and extend my hand towards the desk of my coworker buddy Marcos, “Have a good one.”

“You too buddy.”

I turn the corner to my left and raise my head in a quasi-nod to another coworker pal, “Enjoi your evening Lora.”

“You too Dave.”

The Exit sign is now sitting well above my head as I turn to the right and reach for the door.  I lower my head as usual and duck through the open door and round the corner towards the elevator.  7 floors up and you would never know with the speed of that elevator.  Within moments I am bounding out of the elevator and down a flight of stairs to 48th Street.  The street is lined with black vehicles with illegal black tint on all of their windows.  They also bear the Diplomatic license plates and their country’s name and flag in the back window.  The street is rarely occupied by a moving vehicle so I can move freely across the street without so much as a care.  The next corner I am approaching is speckled with pretzel, hot dog and some middle eastern food cart that serves a mighty tasty dish for $5.00 – best to get there at Noon sharp or expect to wait in a surprisingly long line.

My destination at the moment is 53rd Street and Lexington Avenue, the Downtown E.  My ultimate destination is home in Bellport, Long Island.  I check my watch under my coat sleeve and see the time is 4:33pm, I have 18 minutes if I want to catch the 4:51 from Penn Station to Ronkonkoma so I pick up the pace when the crosswalk signal fades to white.

I arrive at the subway and glide down the stairs without much effort, all the while I’m plucking my wallet from my back pocket and sliding out the monthly Metro/LIRR card that will grant me access to the most complex and mind boggling subway system this side of the Atlantic Ocean.  I don’t have to wait long for the Downtown E, and that is what I was hoping for.  A slightly packed Downtown E is an anomoly; one I’ll gladly accept more frequently until the 2nd Avenue Subway line is completed in a few years.

Then I realize that I haven’t stayed with a job for more than 2 years and I laugh at the thought that I could still be working here in 4 years.  I keep my head down on the ride to Penn Station and think about the book that haunts my Dakine bag.  Roland, Jake, Eddie and Susannah are frozen in time and awaiting my return so they can continue their journey to the Dark Tower.  I feel a pang of guilt for making them wait so long, but such is the life of a working man eh?

The Penn Station stop on the Downtown E looks eerily similar to those Bridal Shops in November that sell wedding gowns at a drastic discount.  The doors open and panicky commuters dart for doors in hopes to make a train that is scheduled to leave in less than a minute.  I check my watch under my coat just prior to the Penn Station stop and see that I have 4 whole minutes; I’ve got time and I’ll be sure to step to the side and avoid the stampede.

Finding a seat on the train is as expected, an adventure.  The weight on my shoulder bears down on me, and not because the bag is heavy, but because Roland and the gang anxiously wait for the crease of the book to be opened to the stale train air beneath the never-sleeping city of New York.  I tuck myself next to a small Indian guy who is glancing longingly out of the window towards the neighboring train; not much of a view if you ask me.  It doesn’t take long for my bag to find my lap and the book to find it’s resting spot for the next 90 minutes.

The pages blur by as I am transported to the world of Roland, Jake, Eddie and Susannah.  Their journey has captivated me entirely and refuses to release its grip on me until we finish the journey together.  Jake, the youngest of the crew, is reminiscing about the last few months of his life.  He had to grow up so quickly but is quite happy with his life up until now.  Jake is beginning to make friends with a young boy from a town he and his ka-tet are passing through.  The young boy helps remind Jake of what it means to be a boy again.

I am immediately transported away from this journey and into another, far less exciting, journey that I have been living for the past decade or so.  I am recalling a discussion I had earlier with a good friend during lunch at Johnny Rockets that day.  We spoke about the little kids in our lives, not our own, but little ones nonetheless.  I told my friend a brief story of my baby brother Matthew and how he would squeeze my finger with surprising strength.

Now I’m sitting on this train as it idles through the tunnels of New York and opens onto the borough of Queens.  Light pours in on both sides of the train as faces turn away like young children turning from the TV during a scary scene in a horror movie.

“I wonder what Matthew looks like now.  How big is an 8 year old, or is he 9?  Does he know I exist?  Does he know that he has 2 older brothers; one in particular that would love to sit and share an ice cream cone with him and talk about his school, his friends – perhaps share an older-brotherly bit of advice with him about family?”

I chuckle at the thought.  After all, who am I to give advice on families?  To my own family especially!

“What if I don’t exist to my brother?”  I hope that isn’t the case.  “But what if I do exist to my brother; as a villain or an outcast who denounced his family and his brother?”  I hope that isn’t the case, but I’m scared to death it is.

I haven’t thought this thoroughly about my brother in a long time.  It hurts to think that I have someone who shares my blood, my origins (even if only half of those origins) but who I cannot share a thought with.  I’ve tried so many times to rescue a relationship that has been doomed for over 10 years; but I tried and tried and failed and failed.

My biggest failure.  My biggest heartbreak.

I can’t return to the journey now.  Jake and his new friend are going to have to put their friendship on hold while I collect myself.  I’m sorry young friends, but my own journey has to take precedence over your search for the Dark Tower; for I have a darkness of my own to conquer.  I hope you’ll understand and I look forward to returning to you and narrating your epic story of friendship and hardships; and family.

The Anti-Capitalists

Is it just more or is the United States Government’s interaction and “saving” the failing companies the exact opposite of capitalism?  Isn’t capitalism supposed to be Laisez-Faire; hands off?  If the government feels the need to step in and save these failing companies because it is in the American People’s best interest, isn’t that all the proof we need that Capitalism doesn’t work?

Bear Stearns, AIG, Morgan Stanley, Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, Wachovia, Lehman Brothers.

If these companies practiced a flawed form of business and failed, should they not be allowed to fail?  The government says they stop these companies from failing by taking the taxpayers money and giving it to them (after those companies took our money by artificially inflating the cost of living) so that the country’s financial system doesn’t crash.  They save these companies to save us; or so they say right?

Let them fail.  That’s Capitalism.  The company did business poorly, made poor decisions and now they should be allowed to fail.

But it’s too late.  The United States Government has stepped in and taken taxpayer money, yet again, to save companies – to shelter us from financial failure.  Well fuck that!

If the United States Government wants to promote Capitalism and reep the benefits of Capitalism, then they should also allow the world to see the flaws in the system.  Instead, they plug it up with borrowed money.  They hide the fundamental flaws of Capitalism (greed) by giving money to those who lust for money.

It just seems so wrong!!

What a load!

$700,000,000,000.00 USD

Was it as good for you as it was for me?  Blowing that $700,000,000,000.00 load was supposed to help save our economy!  Bush came out in a near panic and said that we needed to pass this bill immediately because each day the economy lost Trillions of dollars ( $X,000,000,000,000.00).  The US Treasurer Paulson backed Bush and made it abundantly clear that if we didn’t pass this bill, the economy would tumble.

Then some people asked questions.

Why $700,000,000,000.00?
Answer:  We think it’s enough.

Will it work?
Answer:  We hope so.

So have you seen the latest measures of the American economy recently?  The DOW is below 10,000.00 for the first time in four (4) years when we were at the height of this war in Iraq.  And if you think the DOW is only one indicator, take into account the huge losses across the global markets.  Trillions up Trillions of dollars have been lost and people are looking for someone to blame!

The McCain Campaign is blaming Barack Obama, after telling us for months that Barack was a rookie and had no experience.  Apparently a rookie with no experience is capable of bringing down the world’s financial markets!

The McCain Campaign is blaming all of the Democrats in the Democratically “lead” Congress – keeping in mind that with a Republican President, the Democrats would only have the lead if they had more than 66 seats (Senate), which they do not; they have 51.

Amidst all of this blame, behind all of the mud slinging and crap flying – I haven’t heard one person speak up and offer a solution to this crisis; except Barack Obama.  Barack would rather focus on the real issues at hand and let the children of politics (McCain, Palin) soil themselves in their playpen.  Because while Palin is claiming Barack is “pallin’ around with terrorists” she was busy supporting a campaign that pushed to seceed from the United States.  A Campaign that is lead by a man who has openly admitted his hatred of the United States and everything the American People stand for.

So let it fly.  Wave your shiny pinwheels around and distract the mindless masses.  But don’t try and come to me with these flimsy ‘facts’ about what’s what.  If I want facts, I’ll do the research.  If I want a pile of shit thrown in my face, I’ll come find you.

Professor out.