Mood:
rushedNow Playing: "Galveston" by Glen Campbell
There's a lot of anxiety right now in this town. The gas station nearest my house went from selling regular unleaded this afternoon just before six at $2.55 a gallon. A couple of hours later when I went to go grab some, it had shot up to $2.69. So, after yelling "Fucking thieves!" several times to myself and anyone else who might be near me, I cruised on down the road until I ran across some for $2.59. I know it's only a dime's difference, literally, but goddamn! People are going to use Rita for all sorts of excuses, legitimate or not. I am not looking forward to this. And I also realize that the next time I buy gas, it's going to be $3.00 or more.
My biggest concern right now is my new house and all of my belongings. For whatever reason, I am my family's repository of mementos such as photos, letters, and other keepsakes. I am also obsessively my own biggest fan ---and I try to keep everything I've ever written of any importance. So I am sitting on top of a big pile of potential heartbreak and I am worrying about my situation. I live in a flood plain and, even though I am probably 200 miles from the coast of Texas, I know very well that Rita could unleash one of the biggest rainstorms of my life right on top of me.
I'll keep you posted. If I can.
Oh, and one more thing. It's something I almost never do, but I'll breach the Wall of the Personal Proper Noun tonight because it's insistently on my mind: One of my bestest and oldest friends lives (or used to live) in Galveston, Texas. I haven't talked to the man in many years, but he was a huge influence on me as a young man and if he ever Googles his name up, I want him to find it here: James Bartholomew Gately, Jr. That's Jim. Jim, I'm thinking of you tonight and I hope all of your family is safe and sound. I hope you know that there is some part of my personality that owes itself to your benevolent eccentricites and I want you to know that you will be in my thoughts these next several days.
Take care.