George came by last night for a short while. He told me that Big S and all of the gang is back to hanging out down at the shopping center again. He wants me to start coming down everyday to join in on the conversations and the gatherings. It certainly will make for a much more interesting blog as I have had a drought of things to write about lately. My life has been rather mundane as of late.
“What made you stop drinking so much?” I asked him curiously as we stood in my driveway.
George has really cut down on his drinking these days.
“Ah, I just got tired of drinking,” George replied grinning broadly with a cigar in his mouth.
That cigar looked so tantalizing. I wanted to ask George for one so badly but resisted the urge.
“I still drink a few beers everyday,” George then said.
“I sure could use a few beers myself,” I replied.
“Let’s be go gettin’ a case and go out to the lake and get drunk,” George said.
“I can’t,” I replied. “I am afraid that if I get drunk, I will start back smoking. Quitting smoking is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do. I don’t think I could do it a second time.”
George told me to call him if I changed my mind as he got in his car to leave.
Dumpster Diving Dan also came over yesterday evening to pick up the over twenty cans of Chef Boyardee I had saved for him. Mom still brings me a bag of the stuff every Monday and I just cannot eat it. Dan also collects aluminum cans these days and I drink a lot of diet sodas. He asked me if I would save my empty cans for him. I told him I would try, but didn’t make any promises.
“Merry Christmas,” Dan told me as he climbed into his Toyota to leave.
“Merry Christmas to you too, good sir,” I replied as I waved to him goodbye.
Around 9 PM I headed out for my tent in the backyard. I lit my candle lantern and read until the candle had burned down and extinguished itself. I then lay for the longest time on top of my zipped up sleeping bag in the cool night air thinking. These winter nights can be so quiet with only the sounds of crickets to keep you company. I miss the furtive calls of the summer katydids and the nocturnal whip-o-wills. An inescapable feeling of loneliness overcame me as I lay there. I longed for warm summer nights filled with the sounds of summer animals and insects. Finally, a lone mockingbird started calling a spring like song down the road in a tree. I smiled as I wrapped up in my sleeping bag and went to sleep to that sound reminiscent of a warm spring night.