Moments of Solace
"Love doesn't make the world go 'round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile."
- Franklin P. Adams
I'm writing this from my adopted aunt's computer in Santa Monica, California. The weather here is beyond perfect. It's maybe 70 degrees--and this is the beginning of February--there is an ocean breeze blowing through my window right now, and everything is green and lush in there little pocket of California. Everything is perfect right now. I want nothing to change. According to Asaf Shafir, "Love is a place where you want absolutely nothing to change." So, I am following the Gospel according to Asaf and "feeling the love."
The past month of work has been a wild ride. My former manager at work received a promotion at year end, so I have a new manager that I report to directly. From where I sit, things are going really well with him--I'll refer to this person as Armando. We've been slammed with work, but each time a potential issue or problem comes up, we have been able to recover with grace. It's been a lot fun, and challenging at the same time--that rare mix that comes together in professional environment where you really trust the people right beside you in the trenches. Regardless, the past month has been exhausting. So, I hopped in the car at 4 AM in the morning on Saturday and drove to Santa Monica--thanks for encouraging me to take a break MAD.
Twice a year Barney's rents out an airplane in Santa Monica and has a huge end of season sale. I went last year with my cousin Maria and her husband, Matt. Matt bought a beautiful cashmere overcoat that was originally priced at $1,800 for $799. I've been waiting for this sale for over a year and found out that it was starting on Friday, February 8th. It seemed that the stars had aligned for me. A break was needed, and deeply discounted suits were to be had. Two word were dancing in my mind: road trip!
Most of the drive to Los Angeles was done in the dark. I got a big cup of coffee the night before I left, heated it up that morning, and put away the miles as I blasted a road trip compilation cd that I had made earlier this week. I wouldn't say that this cd was my finest compilation to date, but there were a few gems on the album. The front half was full of country music, mostly Jerry Jeff Walker, some Boz Scaggs, and a cut from Jerry Jeff's kid, Django, that I really dig. The back half was predominantly made up of songs from my favorite Irish singer/songwriter, Van Morrison--AKA "The Belfast Cowboy."
Earlier this year, I downloaded the song "Irish Heartbeat." About 100 miles into the trip, I became fixated with it; I must have listened to this song 20 times in a row that morning. Probably about the tenth consecutive time I played it, I started to cry like a little girl. The lyrics reminded me of this past Christmas with Aunt Shelly, and the rest of the Irish contingent, and the wonderful time we spent together over that week. Not sure exactly what it was, but I was balling. I'm guessing that I had some accumulated stress or fatigue that hadn't been processed and that song triggered it. It all came out on that empty interestate, and by the time I hit Indio I felt emotionally cleaned out.
One of the things I have learned about buying suits is that you never go alone. What looks great at the store, will sometimes look like shit when you get home, and some times you pass up a truly beautiful item because it's not exactly what you are looking for. My companion at this sale was my aforementioned adopted aunt--Marilee Frasier-Koch. Marilee is the queen of the Zen shopping experience. We met at her home in Santa Monica, had breakfast, where she gently deprogrammed me and told me to be open to what the Gods of Retail provide, and to approach the sale with an open mind.
Within five minutes of being at the sale, Marilee and I had identified the two suits I would end up purchasing. We held on to about five other potential purchases, tried all of them on, but eventually settled on those first few "gut reaction" items. I left the airplane hanger with a three-button navy pinstripe suit, and a two-button grey pinstripe suit. They are both of a slimmer cut, and fit beautifully in the shoulders. I was able to purchase two beautiful suits, which each retailed for $1,300 USD each, for slightly under $1,300 all together. It was definitely worth the money spent on gas.
After my retail adventure, and the consumption of an enormous chicken parmesan sandwich, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep on the couch. Sometime around 6 PM, I woke up to the sound of Nate and Lauren--Marilee and my uncle Bobby's god-children--knocking on the door. I went upstairs to clean up, and they started to make dinner. They cooked scallops and shrimp, french beans, which were served with a green salad; they backed this up with chocolate and pistachio cannolis and herbal tea for desert. It was wonderful. Time seemed to move much slower than it usually does at that dinner table. We were all laughing and talking, reliving old memories that have somehow gotten sweeter, and more nuanced as our lives have moved forward. So I will say, once again as I said earlier in this piece, I wanted nothing to change in those moments. I won't say that they were perfect, but will say that they were full of love.
So, now I am back in Phoenix--I started writing earlier this morning, and am finishing this piece at my home computer. I drove back this morning around 9 AM. Nothing really eventful happened--no emotional breakdonwns, no great insights into life, no car problems. I made good time, have done my laundry, shined my shoes, and am winding down for the evening. Whereas most weekend feel like the days were 15 minutes long, I feel like I have gotten 4 days worth of rest and relaxation out of this one. My mind is clear and I am ready to get back at it and go kick some ass. I'm ready to re-enter my life again, and feel extremely grateful for the moment of solace that I was given.
Namaste
- Franklin P. Adams
I'm writing this from my adopted aunt's computer in Santa Monica, California. The weather here is beyond perfect. It's maybe 70 degrees--and this is the beginning of February--there is an ocean breeze blowing through my window right now, and everything is green and lush in there little pocket of California. Everything is perfect right now. I want nothing to change. According to Asaf Shafir, "Love is a place where you want absolutely nothing to change." So, I am following the Gospel according to Asaf and "feeling the love."
The past month of work has been a wild ride. My former manager at work received a promotion at year end, so I have a new manager that I report to directly. From where I sit, things are going really well with him--I'll refer to this person as Armando. We've been slammed with work, but each time a potential issue or problem comes up, we have been able to recover with grace. It's been a lot fun, and challenging at the same time--that rare mix that comes together in professional environment where you really trust the people right beside you in the trenches. Regardless, the past month has been exhausting. So, I hopped in the car at 4 AM in the morning on Saturday and drove to Santa Monica--thanks for encouraging me to take a break MAD.
Twice a year Barney's rents out an airplane in Santa Monica and has a huge end of season sale. I went last year with my cousin Maria and her husband, Matt. Matt bought a beautiful cashmere overcoat that was originally priced at $1,800 for $799. I've been waiting for this sale for over a year and found out that it was starting on Friday, February 8th. It seemed that the stars had aligned for me. A break was needed, and deeply discounted suits were to be had. Two word were dancing in my mind: road trip!
Most of the drive to Los Angeles was done in the dark. I got a big cup of coffee the night before I left, heated it up that morning, and put away the miles as I blasted a road trip compilation cd that I had made earlier this week. I wouldn't say that this cd was my finest compilation to date, but there were a few gems on the album. The front half was full of country music, mostly Jerry Jeff Walker, some Boz Scaggs, and a cut from Jerry Jeff's kid, Django, that I really dig. The back half was predominantly made up of songs from my favorite Irish singer/songwriter, Van Morrison--AKA "The Belfast Cowboy."
Earlier this year, I downloaded the song "Irish Heartbeat." About 100 miles into the trip, I became fixated with it; I must have listened to this song 20 times in a row that morning. Probably about the tenth consecutive time I played it, I started to cry like a little girl. The lyrics reminded me of this past Christmas with Aunt Shelly, and the rest of the Irish contingent, and the wonderful time we spent together over that week. Not sure exactly what it was, but I was balling. I'm guessing that I had some accumulated stress or fatigue that hadn't been processed and that song triggered it. It all came out on that empty interestate, and by the time I hit Indio I felt emotionally cleaned out.
One of the things I have learned about buying suits is that you never go alone. What looks great at the store, will sometimes look like shit when you get home, and some times you pass up a truly beautiful item because it's not exactly what you are looking for. My companion at this sale was my aforementioned adopted aunt--Marilee Frasier-Koch. Marilee is the queen of the Zen shopping experience. We met at her home in Santa Monica, had breakfast, where she gently deprogrammed me and told me to be open to what the Gods of Retail provide, and to approach the sale with an open mind.
Within five minutes of being at the sale, Marilee and I had identified the two suits I would end up purchasing. We held on to about five other potential purchases, tried all of them on, but eventually settled on those first few "gut reaction" items. I left the airplane hanger with a three-button navy pinstripe suit, and a two-button grey pinstripe suit. They are both of a slimmer cut, and fit beautifully in the shoulders. I was able to purchase two beautiful suits, which each retailed for $1,300 USD each, for slightly under $1,300 all together. It was definitely worth the money spent on gas.
After my retail adventure, and the consumption of an enormous chicken parmesan sandwich, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep on the couch. Sometime around 6 PM, I woke up to the sound of Nate and Lauren--Marilee and my uncle Bobby's god-children--knocking on the door. I went upstairs to clean up, and they started to make dinner. They cooked scallops and shrimp, french beans, which were served with a green salad; they backed this up with chocolate and pistachio cannolis and herbal tea for desert. It was wonderful. Time seemed to move much slower than it usually does at that dinner table. We were all laughing and talking, reliving old memories that have somehow gotten sweeter, and more nuanced as our lives have moved forward. So I will say, once again as I said earlier in this piece, I wanted nothing to change in those moments. I won't say that they were perfect, but will say that they were full of love.
So, now I am back in Phoenix--I started writing earlier this morning, and am finishing this piece at my home computer. I drove back this morning around 9 AM. Nothing really eventful happened--no emotional breakdonwns, no great insights into life, no car problems. I made good time, have done my laundry, shined my shoes, and am winding down for the evening. Whereas most weekend feel like the days were 15 minutes long, I feel like I have gotten 4 days worth of rest and relaxation out of this one. My mind is clear and I am ready to get back at it and go kick some ass. I'm ready to re-enter my life again, and feel extremely grateful for the moment of solace that I was given.
Namaste
posted by Zen_Accountant at 9:09 AM
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