6-8-12

31,680 feet. That’s how much paved road there is in Bethel.

Talk about a change.

When I was doing my research before moving to the tundra, I came across this interesting factoid: “Bethel, Alaska has more cabs per capita than any city in the United States.” There are 93 cabs for a population of just over 6,000.

I’ve been patronizing said cab companies all week. I live (temporarily) on the outskirts of town and I’ve had orientation at the hospital since the day after I arrived. I’ve made fast friends with one of the Albanian drivers, Tony. He always seems to be close by when I need a cab and he always has a story to tell.

Today, we talked about Prague and Krakow. Not so much about the cities, but the gorgeous women who populate them. He told me that I need to spend a few weeks in Eastern Europe and “find yourself a supermodel.” Seems like sound advice to me.

I’ve been pondering what my next relationship will be like. Like Louis C.K., I feel that I know too much to be single. I’m not sure I possess the optimism necessary to go into a relationship without worrying about what might happen.

I’ve been quite surprised about the number of my female friends who tell me that I’ll have no trouble at all. I’ve always considered myself to be quite awkward around the opposite sex, but I think that my being married for as long as I was gave me a different viewpoint. I haven’t been speaking to any women from an “I might be able to date her” perspective. This has given me a chance to get to know women on a more personal level, not instigated by lust or desire. So, how will I fare when I finally dip my toe back into the dating lake? To say that time will tell seems like a cliché, but I suppose it’s a cliché I need to embrace.

Not that this will be happening soon by any means. I still have quite a bit of work to do on myself before I attempt something as grand as this. Still, I think it’s a sign of acceptance, healing, and moving on that I’m even thinking about it in the first place.

My name is Jack. I love spending a rainy day with a good book. I appreciate good wine and I believe that there’s a special hell reserved for those who waste good scotch. I’d rather go for a hike than to a club, and I think time spent together is time well spent.

Would you like to get to know me?



Jack

6-4-12

I’m sitting in a Seattle hotel suite overlooking the airport I’ll be leaving from tomorrow. This city is beautiful, especially when it’s raining.

The last week has been a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions. I’ll do my best to get to all of them, but I’m sure I’ll forget something.

The divorce just keeps dragging on. Every time I feel like things are getting better or that I’m moving on, it gets worse. I never knew someone could hate me so much. Being despised by someone you love rends and tears at the heart in a way I’ve never experienced. The old adage is that, in order to become tempered and strong, steel must undergo searing heat and great stress. I’ve heard this message, more or less, repeated over and over by those who council people undergoing a divorce. I hope that it’s true. I’m not sure how much more stress I can take.

I’m on the road so; as a consequence, I’m in my own head more often than is healthy. Everyone keeps telling me to focus on the present moment, to ignore the past until this transition is over. I wish I could follow their advice, but every time I try the past comes hurtling back. Exhaustion only goes so far. I’m not sure what’s beyond it.

My drive up to Seattle did give me a chance to see an old friend. I haven’t seen Dan in almost 2 years. We only saw one another for a few hours, but the time spent apart didn’t diminish our friendship in the slightest. We had coffee on Sunday morning, before I left for Washington. Sitting outside in the Oregon sunshine, we wrote three songs in the space of an hour; Just Dan, me, and a ukulele. Every happy memory from St. Kitts flooded me for that hour. All the days spent together writing and playing music. Our first show at Ziggy’s. Meeting our brother and musical soul mate, Tom. Lazy Sundays at Lion’s Bar, our feet in the sand, writing songs. Lion would always mix us rum punch, giving us all would could drink as long as we kept playing. I need to go back to St. Kitts. I never thought it would become my second home, but I keep hearing that island song.

When we were just getting started in the Caribbean, we were befriended by Masud Sadiki; one of the kindest and most gentle souls I’ve ever come across. He brought us into the music scene, introduced us, and got us gigs. That’s all well and good, but it was his friendship and kind nature that impressed me the most.

He was found dead recently and I’m still in shock. The police report says suicide, but I can’t bring myself to believe that. His death hit everyone in the band pretty hard, but I know Tom is suffering more than any of us. Tom and Masud were close in a way I never was. They worked on several albums and made amazing music together. When Tom let me know that he had died, I could hear the anguish in his voice. We had always hoped to write some songs with Masud, but the opportunity never materialized. That will forever remain a regret for me. I hope you rest well, Masud. I miss you…

I leave for Alaska in a few hours. I’m ready to start this new adventure and sleep is eluding me thus far. It’s hard to believe that I will be in Bethel tomorrow and at work the day after. I know that I’m ready to get back to what I love, but it’s been so long I worry that I’ve forgotten how.

Still, I can’t believe that all the hard work has finally paid off. My first job as a nurse. Wow. And in the tundra, no less! It seems I’m destined for an interesting life. I hope I never lose the lust for travel and new experiences I’ve cultivated these last few years. I’m sure there are many more adventures to come.

In spite of all the craziness, I’m happier then I’ve been in quite some time. Going to Monterey had a great deal to do with it. I saw so many friends I lost count. Kristin and Sameer gave me shelter, food, and friendship; as well as time with my little nephew. I don’t think they’ll ever understand how much that meant to me.

Henry and I got drunk and played pool, quoting movies until the wee hours. Dave, Kristi, Deeda, Sameer and a few others invited me to a beach barbeque; a reunion of sorts for the old ER crew. Reb and Casey had me over for dinner and wine and little Miss Kai spent most of the evening playing games with me or telling me to play her different songs; thankfully I brought a guitar. Marta and Birch had me over to see Sasha and to have lunch. Angus and Karen did the same, minus the child. I saw Makai and Skot, and Daniella has grown at least a foot since I saw her last. She’s almost old enough to drive! Holy crap! She was seven the first time I met her. Time does indeed fly by.

I saw and did quite a bit more, but I feel Morpheus beckoning me down into the dream realm. I wonder which gate he’ll open for me tonight…



Jack