July 29 - Suicide vs. Scallops

Usually my day begins between 7:45 and 8am, when my boss pages me.
"GM TONY, LET ME KNOW WHEN ON THE WAY"
I usually respond with a "ten4".
This morning I ignored it and continued to sleep.
At 8:26 the pager went off again.
"GM TONY, LET ME KNOW WHEN ON THE WAY"
I typed, "ten4. need more sleep."
Lauren and I got some "sleep".

Eventually around 10 or so I left the house and started driving.
While on Lower Wacker my boss called me.
I did not answer.
I sent a fibbing page saying I accidentally left my phone at home.
For the rest of the day we would communicate by pager only.

On the way up to Lincolnshire traffic on the Edens expressway came to an abrupt halt. It went from 70mph to sitting completely still somewhere around Skokie. AM radio told me that someone had jumped from the Oakton overpass.
Crazy.
I paged the information to my boss.
"ANY GOOD VIEW?"

We all sat there for a long time.
Periodically, fire trucks, ambulances, police units would hurl past screaming.
I felt a dark empathy for the selfish jumper.
It's easy to say that's an easy way out.
But that's a very difficult task to pull off.
I couldn't do it.
I wouldn't do it.
I'm afraid of heights.
And getting hit by speeding cars.

There was a lot of time to sit there and think about suicide in that hot, morose pile up.
I wondered why the guy or girl jumped.
I wondered how old they were.
I didn't feel like "jamming out" to "my tunes".
By the time I inched up to the Oakton bridge, the carnage had been cleared.
All that remained were a pair of short skid marks.
It didn't mean a thing to anyone.

From Lincolnshire, I took Milwaukee Avenue all the way up to Gurnee and then to Waukegan.
It was technically a nice day outside.
But it has taken me a long time to figure out that inside a car is not outside.
So it was not a nice day inside the van.

On the way back down I had to take the expressway.
It was clogged for miles and miles and miles and miles and miles and miles and miles and miles.
I had to go out near Rosemont to pick up a brand new plastic tool box from a True Value and bring it back to the loop. Because you can't fucking find a goddamn plastic tool box in godfucking Chicago.
The sun in my eyes was tired acid.
I felt like a corpse driving to his own funeral.
My pager went off.
"HOW YOU DOING?"
This question hit me at precisely the wrong moment in my life.
"HOW YOU DOING?" doesn't mean "How are you doing? Are you okay?"
It means, "Where are you? I'm getting more orders and I need to know if you're going to be doing them."
It makes sense.
It's work, after all.
Not Leo Buscaglia's Sensitive Love Service.
But clearly I have lost my desire to play this game anymore.
"miserable. stuck in traffic. dead end job. dying industry. wasting my fucking life with every passing day. that's how i'm doing."
A few minutes passed.
I was still stuck in westbound afternoon traffic on the Kennedy when my work responded.
"????????"
I ignored it and eventually picked up the rare plastic tool box from a hardware store.
I typed that I was going to drop off the toolbox and then go home.
My pager went off again.
"?????????????????????????"
I responded, "please fire me".
They waited a long time to respond to that one.
After some time, "WHERE ARE YOU?"
I typed that I was near downtown.
They immediately gave me an order picking up downtown and going way up to Lake Forest.
It was 4pm.
"no. not doing it."
I dropped off the plastic tool box and headed toward home.
They never responded.

On the way home I stopped in at The Annoyance.
I had forgotten to take down my drum set and store the Beatlemagica props from last night.
While I was there Tyler asked if I would write Mick's blurb for the Annoyance newsletter.
Mick is stuck without his luggage on a cruise ship and busy directing.
I happily said yes.

When I got home Lauren made some delicious pan-seared scallops and asparagus with a beurre blanc sauce and a saute of zucchini and grape tomatoes in a garlic infused olive oil.
I told her about my horrid day and took a delicious bite.
"This is why I haven't jumped off a highway overpass."

Then I passed out on the couch for an hour.
When I awoke around 8, woozy enough to write the blurb for the Annoyance newsletter while Lauren watched the Joan Crawford vehicle The Women. If you're a woman, you should see it. It portrays you people in a wonderful light. Especially the cat fight climax.

With a sliver of energy, I drove to the Empty Bottle.
I had originally planned to ride my bike.
But that wasn't gonna happen tonight.
The Columbines had graciously included me on their guest list that night.
It was the best sound system I had heard them play on since the Abbey Pub show last summer.
They sounded great, and I especially dug their new Phil Spector graveyard heartbreaker.

I love Lauren, I love music, and I love writing, but I desperately hate my life for the majority of the day.

Verdict: Loss

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