All things considered under a standard cost-benefit, pro-con analysis, this morning was beautiful. I may have woken up with a little less positive perception of the breaking day, but that's in part due to a frog-feeding in pitch-dark and unfamiliar surroudings the night before.
A couple of cups of espresso roast and a front-page SportsDay story about Texas Rangers Starting Pitcher Kenny Rogers really got me going. It was quite a hoot to read that he is "extremely certain" that he's going to be off the Rangers' roster. Way to go, Soothsayer Kenny. A blind, deaf mute with a limp and penchant for Matlock could have found that on a map.
Then, as luck would have it, I walked out my door without forgetting a single article. That, my friends, is a triumph in itself. But as if that wasn't enough, I was greeted at the door by a lovely chilled wind that sported airs of autumn. Immediately, I smiled and put forward my right foot, intent on finding what other surprises were in store.
So far, so good as I briskly traversed the sidewalk on my daily pilgrimage to the train station. The cool air against my stocking-clad legs was entirely pleasant. With the cold front in the air, the train, the market and my music turned up, it finally felt like a city, a place I wanted to be. I finally felt at home.
My blood was pumping and my mood was lifting as I sat down under the awning at the station. Soon, I noticed that my smile was infecting those around me. A girl, a student, slightly shivering in her thin green jacket, waved to grab my attention. "I looooooooooove those shoes!" she giddily said. "Your style is just so cute!" Unabashedly flattered, I thanked the girl, and immediately returned to the article I was poring over in the Metro section.
The train arrived (late, I might add) and I hopped aboard only to find a lack of vacant seats. I don't mind standing, but in heels, the corrugated flooring makes the trip rather precarious. Instead of bothering about it, I grasped the stainless rail and braced myself for departure. Nothing would spoil my beautiful morning, I thought, not even an unpleasant commute.
Kids, those innocent little pre-pubescent things, have a way about them. One in a stroller and a bright pink slicker with matching mary janes was making faces at me on the train. So, I made faces back. Her mother was so amused by my response. "Good spirits in the morning ... She knows you're good people!"
Then, while glancing about the train, doing my morning people-watch, I noticed the man next to me sporting an Aggie ring.
"What class are you?"
"Oh ... '94, you?"
"'05, just this May, actually."
"Well! Congratulations then!"
We got into the usual exchange. His name was Kurt, he's an architectural photographer. I thought I was the only weirdo that always carried a camera bag with a carabiner clip fastened to it. I was wrong.
We both got off a Union, but went our separate ways. I was greeted once more by the blustery morning, and compared to normal Texas weather, a morning in the low 60s is blustery.
I met Ashlee on the platform exiting the train. She's excited, and it's justifiable. She has a love interest, Kevin, and she'll be in his arms tomorrow, she says. Good for you, Ashlee. I'm happy for you.
The clan will be reunited tomorrow. It's been two long months since I've seen my family. I miss them... I hope they missed me too.
Wild horses, folks... Wild...