I Took A Walk Today

I took a walk today. I headed up Bonar and then turned East onto Channing. I was going somewhere but it didn't really matter. I had my trusty iPod with me and was listening to the On The Go playlist I always have loaded up. As I was clicking through songs looking for a worthy song to begin my journey, I remembered reading that Apple is finally discontinuing the iPod's like mine, the ones with the wheel, non-touchscreen. I tried to remember how long I have had this iPod; before I lived in Rancho, before I lived in Huntington Beach maybe? At least 6 or 7 years I think. Centuries in digital technology time, far longer than such a product is supposed to last. I love my iPod though, it's always been there when I needed it, holding any and every song I ever needed at any particular moment. I finally decided which track would hold the honor of batting lead-off. It was a good choice. The drummer counting off 1-2-3-4 and then off they go. There seemed to be a lot of houses under construction on this street, a lot more than normal. Some small single units being re-sided or being remodeled, while a few large, stately three story homes were being gutted down to their skeletons. I briefly wondered if I would ever own a home and if so, would I be so unhappy with it that I would tear it down and build another one? I can barely afford to buy groceries so the thought of buying a home and having a mortgage was so foreign that I laughed off the thought completely. It was a quiet night, no traffic save for a few people passing by on bicycles, the ones heading West downhill enjoying their ride more than those heading uptown, the slight grade becoming more evident the further you go. The track changed and yet again, an immensely familiar and wonderful sound came out of my headphones, the voice of one of my heroes, as much as a full grown man in this day & age can have a hero, the voice of Laura Jane Grace. I instantly flashed back to three days ago when I stood in a large, ornately decorated theater and watched her onstage singing my favorite songs and having so much fun. I started to tear up slightly at the thought of it, the live performance being so enthralling and majestic, bringing a whole new sound to the same songs I've heard a thousand times before. I hate seeing pictures of myself but if someone would've taken a photo of me at that exact moment, I think the image would reveal a happiness that is very fleeting for me. I think it would be a good photo. But, of course, there was nobody there, just me on the sidewalk. It was dusk on a Tuesday, most of the homes lit up from the inside, figures passing by second floor windows, girls in tank tops sitting at computer desks in front of their windows, so when they get bored for a fleeting moment they can gaze out the window into the outside world and perhaps gain inspiration, a few people on their stoops taking phone calls. Mostly I just caught a glimpse of televisions showing something. The local Oakland A's are playing a one-game playoff tonight, maybe people are watching that. They were the best team in baseball for much of the year but they really fell off the last month or two. I could get into details but suffice it to say, they shouldn't have traded their best player Yoenis Cespedes. They haven't been the same since. There are a lot of cats on my walk, cats that are just sitting on the sidewalk in public, which slightly blows my mind. I'm a rural kid, pets either stayed in the house or at least in the yard and cats never went outside because they would get eaten by coyotes. Around here, as in many other places, I presume, they're free to roam. They seem calm and unafraid. Good for them. They have their freedom but they know their limits. A new song is playing now. It makes me think of things that are nice but that I don't necessarily want to think about right now, 'bittersweet' is the term for that, I think. I should clarify; it makes me think of someone. The thought of her makes me smile but the thought of her has, in the past, plunged me into long, deep misery. The kind of misery that isn't brought upon by work or family or friends, the special kind of misery  that envelops you and makes you feel like gravity is extra heavy at that moment and makes every other thing in your life seem so petty and trivial. Thinking of her makes things foggy, I can feel myself becoming uneasy and my mind beginning to replay the same flickering movies in my head so I do the only thing I can think of to stop it and click to the next song. After about a minute, the storm has passed and I'm listening to John Darnielle sing about what I think is Montlair, CA. Is it the same Mills Avenue? I'll say it is. It makes my connection to that song even greater. I finally reach MLK Boulevard and witness the world again; cars flying by, people running in place on the corner, waiting for the light to change, high school kids in pads on the football field across the street going through hitting drills. The next block brings me to what is technically my destination and I more or less get what I came for but not really and realize that it's suddenly dark. As I head back down Channing, I see another cat darting back and forth between the planter of an apartment building and a parked car. I wonder briefly how far he has ventured from his home; has he ever met the cat I saw further down Channing? Do they call out to each other in the night, hoping to see each other again at some point and share stories? I think even in the city, cats lead pretty solitary lives. They have their domain and keep it at that. Even though it's dark now, it's still nice out, cool but not enough to have to roll down my sleeves. The streets are dark but it's not a threatening neighborhood, people around here mostly just go about their business. Most residents are either young people going to school or families. There are always block parties and yard sales around here, lots of parks and playgrounds. For a short while, I start walking in a way which has me stepping on each square of cement with each step I take. It requires me to ever so slightly take bigger strides but I stop shortly after I begin when I reach a stretch of sidewalk that has been re-done or paved over and has no such continual pattern. The next song gives me an idea for a tattoo possibly, a line that would look good somewhere on my arm perhaps, a place where I would forget about it and then take off my shirt in front of a mirror and read it and be reminded of what it means. But tattoos are expensive, I can just remember it. Or write it down somewhere. The walk back seems quicker even though I'm not actively trying to get back home any faster. Maybe that slight grade is making me walk faster. I reach Bonar and turn back onto it and see my building. The lights are on in my neighbor's apartment. Two girls live there but I don't know much about them. They're quiet and seem to keep to themselves, certainly much less social than the other tenants in our building. I briefly think about how perhaps I'll run into them in the stairway, one of them going somewhere and me returning, and awkwardly extending the offer to come over for dinner or drinks one evening, just to be neighborly. I don't drink but I don't really have to mention that until the time comes and then I can just shrug it off and give the same explanation I've given a hundred times about not enjoying the taste of alcohol. Maybe she'd find me charming, maybe she'd regret agreeing to the offer. For now, neither of us would have to worry about it because I ascended the stairs without running into anybody. For some reason, I had forgotten to turn off the television before I left and the baseball game was still going on. Maybe someone else had walked by and had the same thought as me, 'Looks like they're watching the game up there.' The A's were winning but knowing them, they'd blow it. I sat down on the couch and was immediately beset upon my one of my feline housemates. She climbed on my lap and up my chest in order to give me a tiny, furry head-butt. I patted her on the head and looked at her and wondered if she desired freedom, desired a life outside of this apartment. The world is a scary place, if so for me then definitely for her. We were okay there on the couch. It was a nice night.