Flashback Friday

There is a melancholy that wafts through me every so often when I sit too long and reflect.  Here I am in Florida missing my friends, still, and wondering where I will end up.  The tug-of-war between my friends and family never really ceases.  It hits me when I wake up at night, assaults me throughout the day, and wrestles with my good humor when the sun starts to set.  Paraphrasing Karen Blixen's renowned first line in her book Out of Africa, I had a garage in Galesburg.

Let me introduce you to my garage back on Chambers Street.  It served as a shelter for my old cars during the week, then a banquet hall of sorts on Saturday.  It was, perhaps, one of the nicest garages in town.  Urinal, map of Mercer County, accent lighting, cable TV, neon lights, fully stocked bar with bar stools, fridge, heat,  karaoke machine, and if you stepped outside for fresh air you could sit at the lighted fish pond with up to 25 koi.      

I'm not sure what the occasion was or what was going on, but here is Stewart giving an always informative and I'm sure amusing dissertation.  The door you see in the background actually came from the old Mary Davis Home garage when it was torn down to make room for the addition.  How did I get it home?

Stewart is a biker, brainiac, fantasy baseball cohort, and wonderful guy.   We've ridden together out in the country, up to Boscobel, and Cassville Wisconsin.  We've ridden with Pick to places I didn't even know were on the map.  I must ride that ferry again that runs somewhere up there.  A cool boat.  

Who the hell is that peeking through the curtain at me taking a leak?  See, I built that phone booth one day to hide the urinal and to provide some privacy.  I think it came out well.  People autographed the walls and, sadly, the people who bought the house demanded we throw that in.  I should have said Hell, no.  Some of the saying s and writings were priceless, but I still put a price on it.  Dumbass me!

Here is John and Rich Junk apparently doing a serenade with the karaoke machine.  Love the tiara Rich.

My garage/banquet room.  

We partied all the time out here.  When grandkidling Michael was living with us he and I would run out at get some more kerosene for the heater.  Each trip signified fun times were happening or going to happen.  My good friend John Gerdes built the bar and it was a great great piece of work.  He made it so it was rounded at the other end not squared like most bars.  We put padded armrests on it too.  This was where I'd crank up Meat Loaf to almost nobodies delight.  It was where we'd come to relax or have a family conference. It was where we celebrated Brendan's Army leaves and he'd have his buddies over.  It was where Kenzie would entertain her friends as well.

See the Lowenbrau lit sign to the right?  We specialized in Slippery Nipples at the bar.  Always had the ingredients and often the house would spring for everyone.  The large light just above John in the corner was a light at the Seaton ball diamond that I restored.  I spotted it in a junk pile after they put new lights up.  It was one that lighted the ball diamond when I was playing in Jr. high and high school.    

For a time I had it all.  Things change.  You do what you think is best at the time and keep your fingers crossed.  Sometimes it works out, sometimes it doesn't.  There are melancholies you can live with and there are those that will forever stain your heart.  Life isn't an event, it's a process.  It also isn't always Facebook-happy. Fluid, and flowing.  You do what you think is best at the time, with what information you have and then you roll the dice.  You roll the dice.  I decided to chuck it all for my family.  Looking back I might do a few things differently, but that's the hindsight that knows it all.  I would not have traded the last couple of years for anything, however.  I have seen things, done things that I would never have done or felt I was missing if I had stayed in BFE.  

The last post of the blog hasn't been written yet*, so time will tell where this somewhat lost kid will end up.  Here, I yearn for home up North.  Up North I yearn for home in Florida.  I'm a complex little Pirate.  Only time will tell.

I had a garage in Galesburg.

* Actually, the last post has been written.  It is the Doomsday post.  It will be published on the blog at some point down the road after I am no longer posting.  I keep moving the date back in the queue.  Hey, even the Sopranos had a series finale.  Such as it was.