February 10, 2013
It’s Hard to Move Slowly
I was in Cape Canaveral driving
Headed to a housewarming
Not sure where I was going
The first time driving somewhere
Is always a bit irritating.
Silence, looking for the turn
GPS barks “turn right”
So I do. It’s not the
Right turn at all.
I turned right, but it wasn’t right.
It was some dead-end RV park
As dead as Cape Canaveral dreams.
Ratty metal boxes, and a single dirt road
I wanted out fast, but had to go slow.
Stupid 5 mph speed limit in the joint.
I can’t go 5 miles per hour.
I can’t even sit at 5 miles per hour.
So I didn’t. I needed to get back on track.
Then, from somewhere unseen
A voice yells, “SLOW DOWN!”
This is how you spend your day?
I’m not even supposed to be here.
This wasn’t my choice of destination.
Part of me wanted to stop the car and smack this guy.
Instead, I kept going and eventually
Made it out and to the party.
But I thought about that voice
And who was behind it.
A lone guardsman against perceived chaos.
Sitting deep in a sea of aging tin cans
Retirement plans choked by weeds
A sad dirt road winding through them
On a chair, staring at the blankness of it all.
I never want to be that guy.
by Tom Lucas