Tri-State Tales Tinged by Patis

Trains always had a mystique all their own for me. I have read about the days of yesteryear when there were still relatively few cars, and if people wanted to travel, trains were the way to go.

I could still see wisps of prestige of this era in pockets of travel here and there, especially in NY & NJ. I imagine a time when men still valued the gentle in gentlemen, hats would not be archaic, women only wore skirts and cynicism was not a way of life yet.

Sitting in the pre-war design benches here in Hoboken station, I can imagine life in the turn of the century … And curiously wonder how the innocent-like but less progressive times back then, would compare to the insta-matic immediate gratification that is society & technology today.

Interesting also how I am considering these thoughts on a device that keeps me well, plugged in. Blogging, coommuting, music listening, email reading/composing, and pontificating.

All at the same time.

Heh.

What is it about baptisms that always evokes such warm, fuzzy feelings in me?

Last Sunday six children were welcomed into the community with the sacrament of baptism. It never ceases to elicit a smile from Consie and I to see such joyl and pride in the parents.

Also a delight are the myriad expressions of the children: from boredom to boisterous; apathy to appalled; cheerful to cantankerous.

Most of all, I am happy to muse on the sheer optimism that these children bring: the promise of new, unsullied souls unblemished by the capricious whims and wonts of the world that we all adults face.

It makes me marvel at how these kids are avatars of hope, and possibilities, and how these children will influence and affect the world and society that they will live in.

Of course, to nicely balance all these fluffy feelings are the adults, especially the tardy ones, who clacked-clacked-clacked their pretty high heel shoes to catch up halfway through the ceremonies.

I guess it really would not have been as distracting if there were not so much mammary glands & tattoos being flashed by forementioned latecomers.

In a church.

In an occasion about the child.

Not! - about the god parent (supposed-to-be responsible) grownups.

Who by the way, are to act as guardians lest the parents fail.

Oh, my.

Darn it, I thought this would be a feel-good entry.

Guess not.

But the promise of the kids though, and the Lords blessing on them … that still rocks. In spite of the other stuff.

Now, that’s cool.

So there we were checking out the always interesting baubles for sale in Little Italy. And then I noticed the peculiar item on the table.

I queried the vendor how much the parking meter in a joking manner, which earned me a response of ‘ Take it, its yours! ‘

On a tastier note, I got to eat gelato ice cream.

Bellissima !

I did not expect this. I thought I would be whooping with joy & bouncing off the walls. Almost like the end of the hero quest that Peter Jacksons’ LotR captured so well.

But all I felt was fatigue, almost a relief. The sword of Damocles has been removed over my head, and I surmised later that it was just emotional stress from five years of work and heart ache paying off today.

Now, nine hours after obtaining my sweet American dream & only five months removed from the land of my birth and the home of my family & friends, I can finally break out a genuine, from-the-heart smile I have not been able to do for more than 1,825 days.

Thank you Lord!

Ten forty nine pm, it says on the bedside clock.

The hour of reckoning is nearing. Five years of hard work, frustrations, and small and all-too-brief victories culminate tommorow.

Please pray for us and our family, and that all goes well.

It is funny how a person can lose his creative spark when one is so darn … happy.

Shobe called me out, and I have to agree, I have been lax in blogging as of late. But you see, all is well, and nothing really delays a writing session like mirth and merriment with ones’ friends.

I think I have managed to figure out this new-fangled thingamajig that is my archaic 21st century de facto tricorder and set up to be able to blog whenever, wherever … So to test it, here is a picture of the epitome of contentment.

Her name is Tabby, and we love her. All 17 (!) lbs. of her.