8820. THINGS ARE DIFFERENT NOW, Pt. 228

228. TIMELINE

I made mention previous

of the different sorts of

'time' I've encountered.

When I was first born, all

things were timeless; time

doesn't exist  -  except maybe

for feeding time, crying time,

and the rest. Then, getting a

few years, in Bayonne, I

can sort of remember 'time'

setting in  -  a curious feeling

of things as they move along:

the fat, old black cars, the

ladies in heels and black

stockings and odd hats.

The tugboats and cargo

ships 'timing' their progress

along the Kill Van Kull

waterway. All was work,

and mostly I began to see

time as work. Then, as we

moved to Avenel  -  an

entire, and entirely new,

place, it was as if time

started up again for me,

with some other, newer

pace : woods and fields,

the railroad tracks, the

prison-farm cornfields

and tractors and animals.

The trains may have run

on strict timetables, but

I did not. As a kid, all

things were free and

easy, wide and open.

Then, of course, school

enters, and brings with it

its own form of time and

the constraints that go

with it  -  much like

work time. After that,

the 'smother' of life takes

over and a person generally

just gets lost in all of that

and all that goes along with

it. Duty. Detail. The good

thing about Avenel

anyway, in the 1950's,

was that I could still get

away from all that 'time,'

and in spite of school and

church and home. All

those screws slowly

turning never really

effected our local

and neighborhood

'kid' time. We lived a

life as if none of that

mattered. Which, I

thought, was the reason

God made woods and

streams and fields and

rivers. For kids to be able

to beat-out time with. As

I grew, of course, ten

different versions of me

had to learn to deal with

ten different versions of

time. I think that happens

to everyone along the way.

And then it stops. It stops

as the individual reaches

a completion and sort of

shuts down at that point.

Considered complete,

finished, matured, closed.

All that 'model citizen'

stuff again. It's hard,

like a crust or shell,

and it sets on and

gets harder.

-

I look at my dog, by

comparison, sometimes.

and consider the living

of life this way. She seems

under no constraints. She

awakes, pretty much by

the schedule she selects,

and the same for eating

and going. No 'stressful'

demand of that time  - no

expectation, no box or

stricture; just the dog's

own way of freedom

that comes with human

ownership and tending.

(Of course, in her own

way, as well, she's totally

dependent)...She thinks

nothing of interrupting

time, stopping it, for a

scratch, or a long sniff

at something in passing,

or a stop to do her

business, slow and 

dainty, and the licking 

and preening afterward.

I often think, the perfect

life. Should Mankind have

a run at things in that way,

how different would this

life be?

-

Then I say, is that even worth 
a question? The life of this
 here 'Humankind' bears no

real relation to any animal
 life, pet or not, that I can
make, upon examination.

We do what we do because of

a different mental make-up, 

entire. I know that Science

may dispute this; but my 
real-life senses seem to tell me 
differently and they tell me

my hunch is correct. We are,

somehow, set out on a different 

course. Measurers. Makers of

bricks. The lines and angles of

Engineering and building and

constructing. That demands

a setting-to -it paradigm that

'makes' things, designs and

forms, proves the dilemmas

not equal to the ease of

solution. Human Solution.

Man, the Maker.

Homo, Faber.