From time to time I get a glimpse of the beautiful San Diego weather. Every single time I walk up to the microscope, my eyes wander off to the only window that is in close distance within the lab. I see a blue sky crowded with colorful gliders that fly their rounds again and again as if there would not be anything else in this world. I want to get out.
Not being able to restrain myself any further, I rush into my car, to the beach, to hit the sunset. I have to be wise now, even strategic, to choose a place that won’t be too crowded to allow me to park my old and rusty Ford Focus. I smash the door and turn the key. It would not start. So I try again, two times, three times; yes it starts and so does the radio. Magic happens. I want to close my eyes, I pause a second to release all my tension and seek a peaceful mind. There it is, my smile:)
I still have to rush to hit the sunset, to be at this beautiful place at least for a few moments this day. I have to, otherwise what is it all worth? I speed. Long passed the days when I was too scared of driving too fast. I have to make the sunset.
He is still on the radio; I just turned it on at the right time, to listen to the full show. His voice is so tender and caring. It promises comfort, ease, shelter, kindness and solace. Dreaming away I hardly take in the traffic. It is okay; I know where I am going.
I am lucky, I am in time and I get a spot directly at the cliffs. It is perfect. Except, now I have to get out of the car. Turn the radio off. Unease floods my body. Sunset? Radio? What a dilemma. Sure I can see the last sunrays of the day from my car, but I will miss the sound. The crushing waves, the moaning seagulls, people passing by. What about the smell of the ocean? What about the wind? Won’t it be cooling my heated mind? Shall I miss all this? But then, he is on the radio! It is him! When do I have the chance to hear him again? When was the last time I really listened? He makes it easy for me. He entraps me with his flirtatious words, his charming songs of love and with his, oh so comforting poems. He tells a joke. No way I will leave the car.
So I sit there on so many Saturdays. Listening, dreaming, being happy and sincere. I wish I could go to one of his shows, but then I don’t want to spoil our intimacy with a crowd. On Sunday I will listen to the same show again when it re-runs. It is not lame. He is on it!