Driving and Pause to Reflect
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
The purpose of this blog was to share some stories from the road, kind of like a Jewish Jack Kerouac.
Part of the purpose was to also offer my own introspection on my opinions, thoughts, fears, joys et al. And I have not held back on expressing them, though I have kept political posts to a minimum. Uber guests come in all shapes, sizes, faiths, cultures and political leanings, so if I only picked up Never Trumps or Never Hillarys, it'd be a pretty lonely trek.
The pause came today when I had just dropped off someone and I came to a stop light where a young, obviously high school student was texting. I had seen the slight swerve before-hand so I exercised caution.
It got me thinking, which is usually a scary thing for me. You never know what will enter my mind, stay there or leave.
I thought about the probably 17-year-old, which then took me to think about Erica, who was killed in a car accident on the streets of Scottsdale a little over 16 years ago.
This November, Erica will have turned 35. 35! That's a grownup. My only memory of her is as a baby, adolescent and a teenager.
Where was I at 35? It was 1988. I was head of PR at MTV Networks, riding high in a career. I was divorced, dating some. Ok. dating alot. Some even close to my age! Two years later I will have met and become engaged to Hope. That's what grownups do. They make plans and go on and live their lives.
I always wonder who and what Erica would be at 35. She wanted to teach dance, though she took some PR courses in college. I'll never know whether it was to please me. Her plan: Start a school with friends of hers; future teachers, nurses. She loved working with special needs kids, at camp and here. Would she have been married? Would she have started that school? And if she had been married, would I like the guy?
I think about her alot more than I lead on. Why? Because my fabric is changed forever and I think most people, certainly my friends or those who suffered this tragedy know she's a constant thought.
I like sleeping at night because I get to see her. The couldas, wouldas, shouldas and the real experiences.
I get in my car and when I drive, I really DO see the beauty of the mountains, the roads, the smiles and greetings of The Prostate Posse sitting at Starbucks. I don't wear my heart on my sleeve and every day is NOT a struggle. I think most people would be offended by that. How could such a loss NOT make each day a struggle? While I have not accepted her loss, I have reconciled it. If I stopped 'living,' then another loss could happen. My marriage, my friendships, my optimism that life somehow can be a good life, just different. Terribly different.
I have always suffered from wanderlust. I have, for as long as I have been driving, take the road less traveled by and it HAS made all the difference. In "the Fellowship of the Ring," J.R.R. Tolkien said: "Not all those who wander are lost."
I'm a cosmic Uber Driver. When I drive, it's never the destination, it's the journey.
My journey will take me to November 27 in barely 10 weeks. People like round numbers, odd or even. 35 is one of those. I'm not sure if I will drive that day for hire.
In 23 months, Erica will have been gone longer that she was here. That day, coincidentally my Father's Birthday, will surely be significant.
But until then, I do take the road less traveled by and I can tell you this: it has made all the difference.
The purpose of this blog was to share some stories from the road, kind of like a Jewish Jack Kerouac.
Part of the purpose was to also offer my own introspection on my opinions, thoughts, fears, joys et al. And I have not held back on expressing them, though I have kept political posts to a minimum. Uber guests come in all shapes, sizes, faiths, cultures and political leanings, so if I only picked up Never Trumps or Never Hillarys, it'd be a pretty lonely trek.
The pause came today when I had just dropped off someone and I came to a stop light where a young, obviously high school student was texting. I had seen the slight swerve before-hand so I exercised caution.
It got me thinking, which is usually a scary thing for me. You never know what will enter my mind, stay there or leave.
I thought about the probably 17-year-old, which then took me to think about Erica, who was killed in a car accident on the streets of Scottsdale a little over 16 years ago.
This November, Erica will have turned 35. 35! That's a grownup. My only memory of her is as a baby, adolescent and a teenager.
Where was I at 35? It was 1988. I was head of PR at MTV Networks, riding high in a career. I was divorced, dating some. Ok. dating alot. Some even close to my age! Two years later I will have met and become engaged to Hope. That's what grownups do. They make plans and go on and live their lives.
I always wonder who and what Erica would be at 35. She wanted to teach dance, though she took some PR courses in college. I'll never know whether it was to please me. Her plan: Start a school with friends of hers; future teachers, nurses. She loved working with special needs kids, at camp and here. Would she have been married? Would she have started that school? And if she had been married, would I like the guy?
I think about her alot more than I lead on. Why? Because my fabric is changed forever and I think most people, certainly my friends or those who suffered this tragedy know she's a constant thought.
I like sleeping at night because I get to see her. The couldas, wouldas, shouldas and the real experiences.
I get in my car and when I drive, I really DO see the beauty of the mountains, the roads, the smiles and greetings of The Prostate Posse sitting at Starbucks. I don't wear my heart on my sleeve and every day is NOT a struggle. I think most people would be offended by that. How could such a loss NOT make each day a struggle? While I have not accepted her loss, I have reconciled it. If I stopped 'living,' then another loss could happen. My marriage, my friendships, my optimism that life somehow can be a good life, just different. Terribly different.
I have always suffered from wanderlust. I have, for as long as I have been driving, take the road less traveled by and it HAS made all the difference. In "the Fellowship of the Ring," J.R.R. Tolkien said: "Not all those who wander are lost."
I'm a cosmic Uber Driver. When I drive, it's never the destination, it's the journey.
My journey will take me to November 27 in barely 10 weeks. People like round numbers, odd or even. 35 is one of those. I'm not sure if I will drive that day for hire.
In 23 months, Erica will have been gone longer that she was here. That day, coincidentally my Father's Birthday, will surely be significant.
But until then, I do take the road less traveled by and I can tell you this: it has made all the difference.
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