An' he said: "I went sky diving, I went rocky mountain climbing,
I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu.
And I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter,
And I gave forgiveness I'd been denying."
An' he said: "Some day, I hope you get the chance,
"To live like you were dyin'."
The lyrics give me chills. Funny to hear them last night... A few hours earlier, my husband wore racing gear and had the chance to drive a race car 150+ mph on the NASCAR speedway bank nearby. He declined to drive and went for a ride as a passenger instead. I’m glad because I don’t think he’s a very good everyday driver. (My opinion, of course :o). His adventure was followed by an elaborate golf outing today at Pinehurst Course #2, caddy included. What a great gift he was given by a generous company.
If I had that same opportunity, I would have slipped through the window of the enormously powered vehicle with ease, rumbled that idling engine loud enough to feel the painful rush of adrenaline course through my extremities, let the clutch out slowly, and lay a long patch of smoking rubber at the start because I love speed. I really do. But - I’m kidding myself. I wouldn’t. But, maybe if I were dying I would… Would you? With emergency crews standing by?
Here I am, grasshopper blogging again without a secure backlog of posts. So, I’ll look back a week and reflect on my love-hate relationship with summer.
The season takes away cool breezes, rain, birds, easy breathing, but gives good things in return.
I look away.