Skip to main content

Views from a Hotel Room

Nighttime over Lex
Once upon a time, I looked out similar windows to discover the end of a brief relationship.  Once upon a time, I looked out similar windows to fret over the first date that would change everything.  It was only a few months between those vistas, and when I come back to look down on the same Lexington Avenue nearly seven years later, I am enchanted.

Life has a way of winding past the same curves in the road but taking those turns at different speeds, catching familiar bends and traversing them differently than we remembered.  I catch myself in a moment, pausing to contemplate what meaning there might be in returning to this same hotel, with the same view, with the same longing for something else than sitting this night in a hotel room.

Ah, but the circumstances are quite different.  My first once upon a time was a dud, made crueler by the "Xanadu" moment of crafting one of my more brilliant poems (if I say so myself) in anguish to a lost relationship, which somehow was wiped from my hard drive before I could recover (literally and figuratively).  My second once upon a time led to the fateful first date with my future wife, a date so poorly executed as to cause her more intrigue for a second date to discover how and why I could be so inept on my first.  On this night, I remember yet another night where the pipes froze in this hotel, and I lost heat, which was deep in the winter of my discontent before New York City enthralled me and captured the zenith of my single days.  And all together, these memories have threaded through the various rooms of this hotel, where I carried the same solitary view to resounding success.

Perhaps this is what I am capturing in a moment of solitude, a connection to a vibrant life that often lurks right beneath the veneer of comfort, routine, and familiarity.  I am a married guy who has since closed the door on beckoning opportunity at every turn, and I am happy and contented with my decisions.  Perhaps what I really sense is the same sense of wonder and opportunity from the same vista, but this time colored with the depth of experiences that has brought me to this point.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Little Bit of Proust

Somehow I started to read Proust. The blame goes to Alain de Botton , a writer whose witticisms deconstruct modern thinking and make intellectualism seem but a trifle and a whim. He wrote a book in 1997 called "How Proust Can Change Your Life" which distills the enigmatic French novelist into a self-help dispenser of pithy ideas. How clever I found Mr. de Botton to be when I dipped my toe into the vagaries of Proust; I picked up volume one of "In Search of Lost Time" and instantly fell into the deep end. What author dares to run sentences onward into the stratosphere that sometimes seemingly mellows behind the stars of a bright night, but never so much as an introspective person that wretches for the meaning of a simple thought, sometimes stumbling, but always emerging strongly as that same night in starry sky, almost an homage back to Van Gogh, whose rich paintings greatly represented the mood of a generation - and generations often afford a few mis-steps in l...

Try Something New: 750 Words

If there is anything universally redeeming about writing, it is the ability to delve into the inner thoughts of one's own psyche and come back with perspective on feelings, motivations, and desires. In this way, journaling as the specific form of writing that provides this redemption can be a worthwhile pursuit. One might suppose that the internet world would offer various tools to make journaling simple, easy, and relatively painless, but that has not always been the case - until now. I came across this from Lifehacker, who was promoting the site back in March: 750words. The site is run by a former Amazon product manager who has an interest in journaling for the creative process and data visualization. Mash those things together, and you have an interesting site that is built around the premise that creative juices get flowing by consistently writing 3 pages worth of stuff on a daily basis, which translates to roughly 750 words. Logging in by using your Google or Facebook use...

Netscape, We Hardly Knew Ye...

In 1995, I started using email. In my first college days, my friend Virge anointed me with a playful email handle - toddity. She never told me that your email address was somewhat permanent, and I spent the rest of my university days with an username that amused most who got a message from good, old Eudora. At that time, I used Netscape as my web browser. Fast forward almost 15 years. I moved on first to Internet Explorer (Microsoft had a monopolistic hand in it), and then to Firefox from which I am penning this blog entry. Somewhere along the way, Netscape was acquired by AOL and sent down the river on a slow obsolescence. Until next week, when Netscape will end up on the scrap heap with Prodigy, Compuserve, and Excite@Home. How much the internet has changed. I can wax poetically on blogs and social networks, but I can also remember messageboards, usenets, IM, forums, web 1.0, HTML, and the world wide web when www. was a foreign concept. The concept is still the same - connec...