Hazzard Ahead
Johnny Hazzard Blog

Sunday, January 28th 2007

Foreward Homecoming

Posted by Johnny

We all have growth meters that go way beyond notches in a cabinet door. When something happens in my life that makes another notch in that virtual meter, I like to take stock for a moment on past turning points and growth spurts to make sure I’m happy with the direction of my progress. I usually am.

Somewhere on I-5, about 40 minutes from LA, I started to feel at home. The sun was that lively golden color and it basked the hills in light making them look like blankets of velvet over throw pillows. The number of lanes on the interstate changed from 2 to 6 and every lane was full of cars and trucks. It was good to be home in So Cal. I was calm and happy in the face of the impending gridlock I was about to encounter.

I began to think about the week ahead and my heavy schedule of relaxation. I thought about watching the BBC version of “The Office” at my friend George’s house in what could only be described as a virtual trip to Tuscany. He has a built in pool in the back yard that is topped by a 3 tier garden on the north side complete with vegetables and fruit trees one would find in Italy; it was going to be great week.

Just as I completed the thought and began to muster a sigh of contentment I felt the contentment being replaced by a gut wrenching pain that I had only felt twice before; most recently, last Friday morning.

The DVD series “The Office” along with every other series I own, yes even Ab Fab, and every single CD was gone. They were stolen the day Milo was harvested. I didn’t notice at the time because I was so happy about some of the things that weren’t stolen. It’s probably for the best that this realization occurred after my time in SF. Earlier that day, just as we were packing up for the drive to LA, Scott and I both mentioned that the cab looked somewhat less cramped and we attributed it to the food being gone and the absence of the other backpack. Not so much.

So back to my growth meter, I had to contain my rage and upset because I was now on a 6 lane highway with some of the most oblivious drivers on the planet. There was nothing to throw against the wall; in fact, there was no wall. This was not so much an illustration of growth as it was just a holding pen for anger and rage. The growth happened about an hour later when I took a deep breath and visualized the entire experience and the feelings I had about it fade away as the can of Flat Tire approached my lips. Just kidding. I do not mean to insinuate that the method of acceptance I was practicing is more of a method of escape and substance abuse.

I had a choice: To either let these feelings of violation and anger fester inside me and ruin my week, or to release them and get on with my homecoming. It amazes me when people make a conscience effort to remain pissed. It takes far more energy to remain angry than it does to accept and move on. I decided to not be upset although I cannot argue that as the evening continued I thought about all those old CDs that I had and how some of that stuff really meant a lot to me. I began that collection over 8 years ago when my last stash of CDs was ripped off at a the gym. That I did not mind so much because it was the lesson in karma that I needed to form the moral fiber I have today; I had stolen a pair of earrings the day before.

I was really proud of myself. I remember a time not too long ago when this sort of thing warranted not only a 5 day angry period, but also open hostility to whoever I came into contact with; misery truly loves company. So I’m out some memories and some good tunes (But I mean some really good shit!). Now I have the chance to make new ones – better ones, dammit! Yeah, that’s it! Growth, baby!



1 Comment for this post

 
p_paolo Says:

As usual you chose the wise way, although my dear the best attitude is never give the power of changing your mood to material objects. Objects are just objects. Their importance is in you. Good memories, warm feelings and beauty remains in your heart for ever.

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