Sunday, December 26, 2010

A Beakerkin Christmas Tale

I am a fan of Christmas Literature. The tales of humanity adversity and altruism are widely known. The miracle of Christmas is the spirit of the best we can aspire to as humans. In the real world, sometimes we lose sight of that but only in a Beakerkin way can we have several spirit of Christmas miracles and have yours truly create a historic first. There will be no evil Ducks in this tale. There will be no
tragically abused Beakerambo or the heroic Mr B in this tale just humans of various
messed up lives punctuated by noble canines the familiar Maltese and the less familiar stereo type pit bull.

I left for Christmas when common sense said stay home. I knew the Tranquil Sea would know, but no seven year old girl who never knew their father could. I started in freezing weather and took the long trip when I should have remained in bed. The cold was so bad the previous day the supervisor could hear me breathing a few desks away.
I wasn't able to eat much for the previous 48 hours and I spent much of the previous day somewhere between dreams and reality.

Onwards I moved pushing my body planning where to rest and stay warm. Normally, I read several items but my challenge was to stay awake so this tale starts. It is not a historic trip like Robert Scott just a stupid trip. So across the hills on the bus
I journeyed. Even if another relative did not have my car due to the Obama economy I would not have driven with a Swiss Cheese mind impaired by this drowsy state where I lapse between fevered dreams and reality not knowing where one starts or the next ends like a scrooge parody.

Normally, I read a book and a newspaper of two along the way. Today, there would be no newspaper to read until the end of the journey by accident. My thoughts were arrive in one piece and stay focused and awake. The city can be especially dangerous if one falls asleep in the wrong place or if you have fever impaired judgment even for a native. Criminals prey on those they fell are weak and the dangerous addicts and mental illness. The bus to the Ferry was uneventful except the bus driver miscalled a few roads. Was it my illness ... my mind.. No there was a fellow driver who knew me quite well and greeted me sitting shotgun. Happy Holidays he greeted me boy do you look like crap Officer. My mind was registering well enough so that I noticed a few street names were announced out of order but my ride had just started and this was but one part of the journey.

I left the bus and headed to the Ferry terminal. I purposely missed the news stand and the Au Bon Pan and headed to the waiting room. If there was a break I would pay extortion to get Vitamin water. As I had not eaten I was not concerned with the zero content and just picked a flavor I like. On a hot day four gulps and the bottle is finnished. Today my body could tolerate endless sips and the endless thirst does not end. Three dollars a bottle for Vitawater sounds like a fevered delusion, but to a NYC resident familiar with high prices in transportation hubs that is familiar.

The boat ride was familiar I sat away from the windows in the middle. Unfortunately,
some Walter Mitty sees my agency insignia and talks my ear off. It is a young kid who wants to be a super cop. The kid is not too bright, but I am disciplined enough to remind the young teen about the correct phrases per pr protocols and common sense.
If the kid knew how much paperwork was involved, he would join the military. The military makes men, except in rare cases like John Kerry. Federal agencies breed weebies ( local lingo for oldtimers we be there when you come we be there when you go) , snitches, scammers and bureaucrats.

I trudge North I see the Au Bon Pan. It is a nice break from the wind. The place reminds me not of France but of smaller places in VT that were inspired by the locals
of French descent. Northern VT where this NYC person lived in some places is very French. A NYC type living there thinks of it as a green Chinatown of another sort with really dreadful smells. Dairy farms smell much worse than anything I have ever smelt in a city. I buy the holiday special Turkey Brie with Dijon mustard and a bottle of water for $9.75. This is also no fevered delusion. The food is not for me but it is for the Tranquil Sea when she returns at 3:30 from work I like to leave something for her.

I go further North seeing familiar sights. There is the beloved Italian Sausage/Cheese Steak Truck just South of Bowling Green. I never miss a chance to eat there if I have a day off and am going somewhere else. In my condition even this spot of NYC heaven is beyond my ability as I can't even imagine handling that food in my present condition. Near the end of my walk there is the Farmers Market and apple cider. Warm cider, cold cider, fresh pies and Northern knits for the Sprite. I can barely move let alone carry the huge overnight bag. Ahhh warm cider on a cold day is a part of some good days in VT.

I made it to the train station. A veteran rider knows where to stand to minimize later walking. In this case I have to walk from the rear to the front. I take the train two stops for a much longer journey. It is one train but several ride along the same route and I prefer to wait down line in Queens and get out of Manhattan. The train comes and I have planned it perfectly. My trip is going well so I am now
looking towards the train to Queens. My lucks continues as the first train that arrives is going to my destination. I have a seat and now I will battle sleep and fevered dreams and never ending thirst although my body can only take sips. I find a newspaper discarded but save it for later. I see a Swiss couple lost and remind them to transfer in two stops. They see my sweater logo and thank me. I am imagining how they are going to be cursing a different component of the agency at the airport
in a few hours.

I arrive and the air is bitter cold the wind is oddly doing a good job of keeping me awake. The stairs are long and I immediately get off the commercial blvd. In my condition avoiding people and traffic are a priority. My senses are impaired and my mind is lost in a fog.

I climb the steps with my last remaining strength and walk in from the cold.

The next part is act two Christmas wonders, noble beasts and Beakerkin?


Ducky's here said...

I'm reminded of Jack London's "To Build a Fire".

"The old-timer had been very serious in laying down the law that no man must travel alone in the Klondike after fifty below."

beakerkin said...

No there is magic, hope, pathos and
disappointment in Christmas because it is about our hopes. We might get that gadget but will it improve our lives. Dreaming and attaining are concepts of another genre.

At least no cracks about Vita water.
The carbonation in the Diet Mountain Dew would have finnished me.

CM said...

A man in love and on a mission!