A New Life

• inspired by the song "Life's a Dance" by John Michael Montgomery

Arriving at college it was a new world.  In high school, Adam had enjoyed parties with his friends, but this was a completely different experience.  The freedom that leaving home offered was somewhat intimidating.  Yet, he approached it with a very positive perspective. 

He was more than seven hundred miles from home and he was placed in the position of living with young college students who he had never met. 

The first night at the dorms, after his parents had dropped him off, Adam sat in his apartment silently for a moment as he cast his eyes on people who he had just met.  He had always been quick to make friends; however, this was far different.  He was now placed in the precarious position of living with people he had never known.

A week came and passed.  His acclimation into the new environment evolved very well.   Classes were not to begin for a few more days and during the past week he, his roommates, and his neighbors had shared in the trivial festivities that define college life.

The first night at the dorms he and his roommates went to the dining commons together to enjoy a hamburger and fries.  There was also a soda fountain there and the food was excellent.  They sat together and engaged in frivolous conversation that served as a brief introduction.

A month into college life he was quick to acclimate himself to college life.  Adam took to his class schedule and studying diligently.  The weekend parties were enjoyed by all.  Although he had not found a girlfriend, he had met many girls that he was beginning to know very well.  

The music would play as a soundtrack that highlighted the freedom  that college life allowed.   Beer flowed freely.  Some of his friends, who he had only met a month ago, enjoyed the festivities in to extreme level; partaking in drinking in an attempt to experience the highest level of inebriation that they could reach.  Although he had only known them a month, he already considered many of them to be good friends.  He enjoyed his friendships, yet chose to take it slow and not drink to the point of losing his senses.

From the perspective of an eighteen-year old kid barely out of high school, this experience could have been frightening.  However, his outlook on life enabled him to look upon the situation with perspective.   The girls were plentiful and the beer flowed freely.  Every morning he would wake up early and prepare himself for a new day.  Each morning he enjoyed coffee.  Sometimes he would eat breakfast with one or more of his roommates, sometimes alone, and sometimes with  one of the girls at the school he had recently met.  The two of them were slowly becoming close.

Even the academics at the prestigious college, which could have been very daunting, were approached confidently allowing him to succeed at this very high level of schooling.  In high school the populace of the school was somewhere around sixteen hundred.  Here in college the student body numbered closer to fifteen thousand.  In addition, the schedule of classes was different every day; usually three times a week for each class instead of the standard five as it was in high school.  The structure was also more gauged to quality instruction than a heavy workload which would burden the student’s time.

Three months into college life and he read his posted grades on the University website.  He had taken 4 classes.  He had received a top grade of an A minus in his history class.  In addition, he had received a B plus, a B minus, and a B.  He was pleased in his academic adjustment into college life.

To celebrate the end of finals, the dorms threw a cluster of parties in unison.  He and his roommates cleared their apartment of furniture, got a keg of Samuel Adams Beer, and invited a few dozen of their closest friends to join in on the celebrations.  The music that they played was a collection of classic rock including Led Zeppelin and The Rolling Stones. 

The party was enjoyed by all.  Instead of drinking heavily, Adam took the opportunity for mild celebration and to socialize with a large number of friends that he had made in his three months at the dorms. 

It was not a dance party, although everybody enjoyed the music.  Mostly it could be described by undefinable drunkenness and revelry.  He and Alison took the opportunity to share in conversation.  Much of Adam’s time at the party was spent on the balcony slowly consuming his beer.  Alison had approached him earlier in the night and they had stuck close to one another throughout most of the party. 

The hours passed and the mild drunkenness of many of the college patrons transformed into heavy intoxication.  The party was enjoyed by all; even those he chose to be very conservative in their party-goings.   It was about midnight now and Alison asked Adam to walk her back to her apartment.  There was a large collection of college students living at this particular dorm and the dorm encompassed a large area.  However, it was about midnight now and many of the parties had ended.  There was still some music in the background, but most in the crowd had already gone to bed from a night of heavy drinking.

The two of them walked leisurely to her apartment.  It was a cool night in the late fall.  The music that they overheard served as a backdrop to what had otherwise been an inconsequential night.  They arrived at her apartment after a brief walk.  They had been spending quite a lot of time together and they were beginning to know each other very well. 

Alison turned to face him before retiring after the party.  She looked at Adam wishing him a good night.  After a moment’s hesitation, they shared in a kiss to which neither one of them knew would lead.  They promised to meet each other for breakfast in the morning.  Adam walked back to his apartment pleasantly surprised on how the night had ended.  While he walked away the music in the background played and he looked positively ahead towards tomorrow. 

Sunday Dinner at Aunt Abigail's House

• inspired by the song "That's what I love about Sundays" by Craig Morgan

After church on Sundays the family and all the cousins gathered at their Old Aunt Abigail’s house for a Sunday dinner.  They congregated in the enormous backyard of what used to be a southern plantation.  Aunt Abigail laboriously barbequed chicken for the entire extended family, which numbered around three dozen.  She made coleslaw and macaroni salad to add to the meal.  To complete the dinner she served corn on the cob.

The early days of Summer were the most suited for the celebrations.  The children played in the yard while the adults gathered for familiar conversation.  The vastness of the plantation comprised more than ten acres.  Giant cottonwood trees marked most of the landscape.  On the largest tree hung a swing on which the children took turns in the adventure.   They swung up and around, immensely enjoying the light-hearted activity.

As the children played, the adults engaged in their own trivial happenings.   The newly married talked about their children and the older members of the group talked about the days when they were young.

Aunt Abigail was ready to serve the dinner.  It was almost five o’clock and the children were famished from a long day of church and play.  The adults also eagerly awaited the meal, prepared as if by a chef.  The adults sat together at a table where they would continue the niceties of the day of which they always enjoyed.  Some of the older children brought the plates to the adults and to the other children filled with barbequed chicken, coleslaw, macaroni salad, and corn on the cob.   With a long day’s hunger they all began their meals, savoring every bite.

Today, as with every other Sunday, the adults sat with the adults as the children sat with the children.  The sun was lowering in the sky.  It was not near sunset, but the fiery image in the sky was highlighted with prolific colors.

Still in their Sunday best the adults continued their conversation.  The children had put on their play-clothes after church as to not stain and tear them.

Baseball season underlined the conversation among the men.  “What do you think the Brave’s chances are this year?” one asked.

Another ventured on the same subject.  “I hate to say it, but I think the Met’s are going to take it all.”

The women shared their own conversation.  They talked mostly about their kids.  There had been two new babies born into the family who their mothers adored.  They talked about when their cousin Marian was finally going to get married.  However, it wasn’t the conversation that was important; it was the weekly tradition of the family gathering that they cherished.

The men continued their conversation.  The school football team had made it to the county playoffs this year and they wondered how they would do this year.  There was a young promising quarterback on the team for which they all had high expectations.  He had been a junior last year and they all waited to see how he would perform as a senior.

“I’d like to see them win county and make it to state,” Abigail’s husband said.

In a small town like this football served as the main pastime and topic for conversation among the men.  The entire town would travel around the outlying areas and would root for their team every game.

The children talked and played while they ate.  There were children of all ages, from those barely past the years of being toddlers to those ready to graduate high school.  As they ate, the older children would look over the younger children and assist in the job of child care. 

Every Sunday, it was not a spectacular event, but it was a precious tradition.  The family, which had lived in this town for more than a hundred years, had always celebrated the occasion which brought joy.  In recent years they would meet at church and then gather at Old Aunt Abigail’s house.

As the year’s past there was much laughter and many tears.  The old passed away making room for a new generation and children were born.  But, the Sunday gatherings in which they shared time with each other and all the family were treasured memories for them all.  It was a time for them to rejoice in what it means to be a family and to inundate in the familiar love that they felt for one another.

Not a tear to shed

• inspired by the song "Paint me a Birmingham" by Tracy Lawrence 

He sat and watched the waves break against the shore.  He was not a heavy drinker; however, he took this opportunity to reflect on his life that he felt had hit a standstill since his break-up.  Lighting up a cigarette, he contemplated a relationship gone amiss.   The music played in the background highlighting the somber mood in which he was engulfed.

It began five months ago and ended abruptly after three short weeks.  Her beauty was undeniable.   But, that was not that which had drawn him to her.  It was the traits of a confident and demure woman that had begun the attraction.  When he was with her he felt at ease and as if nothing could possibly waver the bliss and tranquility he felt.

A large wave crashed against the shore.  He took another sip of his beer and lit another cigarette.  It was near dusk and the sun was beginning to set into the ocean.  The cool summer breeze refreshed his senses. 

Alone, he sat at a mostly empty bar staring at the direction of the ocean and contemplating recent events.  Not one to overly indulge in alcohol, he slowly finished his first beer.  He sat alone and watched the beach-goers pass by. 

The waitress returned to his table.  A young man sitting in solitude at this bar was rare, but she did not think much of it.  He gazed out into the ocean with a guise of indifference.  There were a few other patrons at the bar, but he chose to sit alone.  The waitress briefly glanced at him as she approached his table.  Her only thought was to wonder what caused a man to sit alone in such seclusion.  Usually the regulars at the bar would come with their friends and enjoy light-hearted camaraderie.

She asked him if he would like her to bring him another beer.  Without a sound, he motioned towards his glass asking for another.  Walking away she glanced at him, not considering a man alone in a location usually reserved for merriment.

Remembering their first meeting, he was sitting at a coffee shop reading a book and enjoying a warm espresso.  It was a small place across town reserved for those interested in light conversation and a mellow atmosphere.  As he read his book, he noticed her looking in his direction.  She smiled at him in a most modest manner.  It was not usually a venue for meeting people; however he walked up to her and asked if he could join her.

He felt an immediate connection with her, conversing with ease and feeling complete assurance. 

They had dated for only a few weeks, but during those three weeks he felt carefree with confidence that what he felt for her was true.

The waitress returned to his table with his beer.  He thanked her as he set another dollar beer on the table. 

The sun had nearly sunk entirely into the ocean.  The cool summer breeze chaffed against his skin.  As he took a few more sips out of his beer he lit another cigarette. 

Without recourse for solace, he began to regress in remembrance of what for a short time had been perfection.  Upon contemplation all he could feel was regret.

He finished his beer and placed another dollar on the table.  He looked at the stars in the sky and walked home on the brisk summer night.  Tomorrow he would work, while attempting to bury the painful memories of what he knew meant to him more than it should.