Radio Reception

As soon as I enter the parking garage, radio reception dies.

I am using music as fuel right now, so that makes for a painful transition. Especially if I am listening to a song I love. Spiritual flight to crushing despair in half a second.

So I face the insane asylum/daycare, or the Padre's church, or the downtown Concord neighborhood scene and contemplate my fate and my history. All the mistakes, wrong turns and bad decisions that made this soul-less garage an inevitable destination at the age of 67 in 2021.

Or...................I just stare straight ahead, thoughtless, like Puddy on the airplane.

However I found, accidentally, a couple of spots in the garage where I can park and still get radio reception. Imagine my delight.

These were situations when the garage was pretty full and I had to park in spots I don't normally use. And lo and behold the radio just kept on soothing my soul. A sly smile stretched my lips in grotesque parody of happiness.

I park in these spots regularly now. But it is dangerous. Especially on Thursdays and Fridays, the darkest, most hopeless days in my crushing three day work week.

Between 7:00 and 7:15, if I am not listening to music, I descend into a dark cloud of despair that kills all feeling. This is an excellent defensive posture to adopt in order to survive the day at work.

But if I am listening to music my spirits continue to soar. I feel alive. Like a human being.

Until 7:15. That fateful moment when I have to leave my car, pay for the parking spot and summon up my practiced, phoney facade.

Reality descends like a guillotine. I stagger shocked and bewildered through the garage, out into the streeet and into the office.

There is a price to be paid for every good thing.