COMRAD SON

I was trapped! There was no way of getting out, and the oxygen level was dangerously low! It seemed like the ceiling was caving in on me and soon it would be all over, as my breathing was in short gasps. Fear was overtaking me and it seemed like there was no hope left. I even feared my body was shutting down!

#2 Son was sitting next to me and we were on our way somewhere in the driving rain and I was being questioned once again. It was conversion time, that time when the son who has all the answers is enlightening his father who has no questions and didn’t ask.

The idea of drinking while driving was starting to appeal to me: so was maybe closing my eyes and getting into a fetal position and going into the back seat to do it. The problem with that was #2 Son would then drive. The last time anyone saw driving like that was on the Indy 500 track, and the time before that was against a carrier in the South Pacific by a plane with a meatball painted on it’s wings and sides!

Sobbing has become a seasonal event, usually in the car where #2 Son has a captivated audience of 1, and that audience is named Dad. It seems that all of life’s experience can be gained on the campus of Purchase SUNY. There is no need to live life after that. Marriage, career, social interaction, all are meaningless unless you have spent time on the Purchase SUNY campus! Had I known this sooner, say 45 years ago, I would have attended and then decided there was nothing else to do, and would have gone into the mountains and wrote philosophy of life snippets for the unwashed and uneducated masses.

There was a bigger issue looming. The ride home! I thought at one point of abandoning the car and taking a bus home, or even walking the ten miles or so.

As I feared, the ride home was worse. The category selected by #2 Son was a continuation of the ride going: my politics. The last time he selected: Dad’s political point of view and the time before that was: talking Dad’s political point of view. So you see, the topics were wide and varied.

Suddenly, as I was contemplating abandoning the car on the road and just running back and forth across the east bound traffic on Rte. 347 the next turn to my voyage of the damned came up and I started to have hope. “Hang on DelBloggolo, only a few more miles to rest your soul!”

Finally we arrive, my head is spinning, and my ears ringing and no one is answering! TLW (The Little Woman) I blame her for junior Karl Marx looks at me and chuckles! Sure, she didn’t have to ride with him.

Oh death, sweet relieving death, where are you????

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