The Reconciliation: Part I (Re-post)

The Reconciliation

We decided we wanted to have a nice day together, and do something out of the ordinary. He thought we should rent a car, after we realized it was clearly too late to get any good sun at the beach. I disagreed, knowing how poor we both were. But it was to be an adventure; we were escaping.

The silly little black Kia Spectra left Hertz in midtown by Grand Central at 1:30 on Sunday. Slowly but surely the colorful Latino and black neighborhoods and projects replaced looming skyscrapers and precious luxury boutiques. Kids played basketball in a court on the edge of Central Park. Cyclists carried their bikes over their shoulders on their way into the city. The Hudson sparkled on the left as we made it over the George Washington Bridge, and then started traveling up the Palisades Parkway. The city became smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. LD and the New Criticism played on the stereo: seething bitterness and playful remorse; make fun of the ones you love, and spank yourself for being dumb enough to love them.

We packed a bowl, and with the city out of sight as we exhaled the thick swirling bluish smoke, we finally knew we were finally free for a time.

It just sort of happened about an hour and some change into our trip that I looked at the map he was carrying in his lap like an Egyptian tablet with hieroglyphics, and then realized we were traveling up the Appalachian Trail. Growing up, you always hear about the trail, and the settlers, and the American pioneers, but to see it is something else. And to fall upon/into it by chance is something else entirely. But we were excited at the prospect of making a real excursion out of this, and as I drove further and further up the mountain, we were determined to get the most out of our measly Kia.

Driving over the bridge and swerving up the tiny curvy road to Bear Mountain proved to be quite fun. The overlook was amazing, and what Im guessing was a glacial basin formed the cushiest, most inviting-looking blanket of foliage Ive seen in a long time. The tops of the trees swayed with the breeze, sandwiched by the soft brown mountain tops, and the rivers edge lapped at the shore seductively. Sun rays swept over the green like near-invisible feather dusters, making everything appear sharper and juicier. Clean.

We shared the moment without talking much, other than noticing how this was the normal thing for people on the East Coast to do get out of the city, see something, go home. We got kids ice cream from an obligatory truck that looked like Mister Softee but wasnt. There was also a hotdog cart that only confirmed our proximity to the city.

As I ate my frozen Scribbler that looked like a jumbo-sized crayon, I knew we had to press upward and onward. Continue on the Trail.

The odd little village of Highland Falls houses the ominous WestPoint Military Academy. It also protects and serves as a safe haven for stereotypical-looking, but unconventional-acting police officers. Leaving the compound I got turned around (literally) in a confusing interchange on the side of a cliff.

We had no idea where to go. I saw the flashing lights, and the officer was next to my window before my companion even realized we were being pulled over.

(Thick Northeastern accent) ''I pulled you over because you cut off the guy in front of me, and this is a really dangerous roundabout. We dont want accidents. Where are you going?''

''Sorry officer, were trying to figure that out, and I guess I wasnt paying enough attention to the road.''

''Because youre too busy suckin' on your daaaamn lollipop! Now just relax, Im not gonna give you a ticket. Where the hell do you want to go? You in the mood for a nice scenic view and perhaps some cocktails, boys?'' (emphasis on cock).

''Yes officer, that sounds lovely.''

''Well go here, here and here. Turn left here, continue on here. Just get the hell out of MY town. And be careful!''

''Thank you so much officer, we'll be more careful.''

He may as well have slapped me on the ass as we went on our way. He trailed us in his big SUV for a few minutes, and as we rolled out of Highland Falls at a leisurely pace of 35, the cop shop was on the right, and thankfully he pulled in as we kept going. Prolly wanted some coffee, or to share his tale of running into two popsicle-toting fags, stoned out of their minds back at the pass.

Currently listening : Creative Spaces By Inland Knights Release date: 29 May, 2001