Renegades of Funk

sunIts been a long strange week. Strange in that I cant quite figure out what is in that air but there is some Tomfoolery about. I think. Maybe. Sort of.

Its the feels like it is the Springtime of my lovin’ the second season I am to know oh oh oh…sorry Led Zeppelin moment there. Yes its like this each spring. Most complain that the only thing Florida lacks is clear delineated seasons. Most will claim we have two seasons down here. Hot and hot/wet and for the most part that is accurate, but to me I could always tell when it was spring. Not so much weather-wise but more a state of mind.

In my case springtime is a few short weeks before summer or what we call “the rest of the year.” I always know its spring when I travel up and down the roads in the interior parts of the state. You can smell the orange blossoms from the groves. I cant explain the smell or compare it to anything other then industrial mechanics hand cleaner but in the air all around you.

As it turns out every time I have found myself either in car, truck or Harley roaring down the roads enjoying this smell and experience in the spring, I was either on my way to be with, recalling happy times of it, or imaging in my head what the next experience of “love” may be.

Why these benign thoughts and moods of love happen in spring, with orange blossom smells in the air, and me on the open road in some mechanical fashion happen I cant explain. They’re nice thoughts however and I look forward to them. Its not to say I only feel such emotion a mere three weeks each year, but its a time of year where all the planets and chi and aura and whatever other whacky things enter my house of awesome and I think specifically about love and what may be in the future and don’t particularly get nauseous or pissed about failed love of the past.

The before mentioned Tomfoolery of it all this time is that I think I am changing my thoughts on the subject of love. As we get older and have experiences in life we find out what works and what doesn’t in regards to love. For some time now I thought I knew what true love is, and generally speaking I am sure I have to common bases covered but I am beginning to rethink what it truly means. I used to look for it. I stopped. I rationalized when I looked for it all that I found was something disguised as love but not love I was willing to spend the rest of my life with. I figured the love I wanted will just happen naturally. I still believe in this notion but as I am getting older I am starting to second guess myself. Are my eyes still open? Am I paying attention? Have I drawn such an opinion and picture of love in my head  that everything right in front of me is passing by? Have I priced myself out of the market? All questions and internal dialogue on the subject of love I battle and debate. In the end I wonder if I accept this or relax my opinion on that would love come along any faster, or better?  Eventually the soundtrack of my life gets a little louder, Pearl Jam’s Black gets fast forwarded to some Zeppelin, I smell the orange blossoms in the air, and turn the throttle back on the Harley some more and for a short time again I am at ease and in love. Love with myself and happy with who I am, one day I’ll share it again with a lucky woman who thinks the same of me as I do of her.

Thank God for Orange Blossoms and Spring.

Let ‘er rip, tater chips!

1 thought on “Renegades of Funk

  1. Out on the road today I saw a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac- a little voice inside my head said don’t look back you can never look back….. Well, I am looking back, but in a positive way. Letting go of what and who needs to be let go of, and not kicking my own ass all over the place about the mistakes I’ve made. Serious mistakes. 3 marriages. Sheesh! I have lived under someone else’s microscope for the better part of almost 59 years. Parents, live in boyfriends, the military, and then the hostages, er, I mean husbands. Expected them to love honor cherish and of course, obey, someone neither they nor I knew. That would be me. In about a week I will have 2 months back in the state of mind – if not the actual state – that I was in when I was 17, only odder, wider, older, and wiser. And with more money, thank the powers that be. I am getting to that place where I am finding out who and how I am with myself. Am learning to be nice to me, and as a result nicer to other people, which results in them being nicer to me. I’m not that awful person the holders of the microscope always told me I was. At least not now, and hopefully not in the future. It’s getting to be spring here in the land of Oz. No orange blossoms, no blossoms of any kind. Just no snow, and I actually have the windows open. Anybody who wants the change in seasons can do a house-swap with me if they don’t mind living in HUD retirement apartment complex. I just laugh when they complain about the “humidity” here. Growing up in the Florida panhandle gave me a whole different perspective on humidity, as did being landlocked in Atlanta many years later. Humidity is when you put on your makeup and fix your hair in the nice AC and by the time you run 10 feet to your car it’s all gone to shit. Ah, euphoric recall. Thanks Brock! Hit the road toad and onward by all means.

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