The Big Bang Theory

There's no better place to begin a day than New York's Chinatown bus terminal on East Broadway. As unattractive women scream at you in broken English, cigarettes dangling from their windburned lips, I am reminded that they have the bedside manner of mercenaries. And if you aren't fast enough you just might end up sitting for an extra 45 minutes on the bus that isn't ready to depart. I wasn't fast enough.

To be honest, I don't know why I keep doing it to myself. But then I remember that thirty five bucks is the cheapest ticket you can get short notice. And as most of my travel in the last year or three has been short notice then I guess I just have to deal with it. Still I have to admit that it was a genius idea if a simple one. Make your money by volume and deliver a service that reflects the price. And since it's Asians (and not Blacks or Latinos in the drivers seat) White folks aren't scared to throw their $40 bucks into the bucket for a cheap trip.

As the US teeters on the edge of becoming just another fallen empire, I'm sure that more rackets such as this one will make their way into the public consciousness. More and more of the commercial transactions here will take place in crowded and somewhat unscrupulous marketplaces. No one could have seen this coming.

I grabbed dinner last night from my favorite soul food spot in the hood on Kingston: turkey meatloaf, yams and some mac and cheese. Then I trained it down to DUMBO to take a look at the view of Fantasy Island while I ate. Sure it's generally a lovers lane at that time of night. But all the couples could kiss my ass as far as I was concerned. The tide was in and had swallowed most of the man-made beach whole. Some lady who was walking her golden retriever let the dog dive into the water. Never would I have allowed my pet to play around in such filth. But then again I haven't owned a pet in 12 years.

As I walked back up the hill towards the Fulton Mall, past the bridge and into Fort Greene, I remembered those nights when I was a little boy that Pop and I would stroll around the neighborhood to, as he used to say it "walk our dinner off". It was such a cool thing for me as a kid, something no one else's parents seemed to do. My great great Uncle Herbert used to walk a good four or five miles a day going into his eighties. With those two experiences alone hoofing it became something magical.

The Dervish should now be in Turkey. Negarra's on her way to Miami. Wood and Benita are getting ready to head to the A and K's making all the arrangements for my godbaby's birthday party. My big little sister is in Boston. Rob and the B-Man are in LA. It's like the Big Bang Theory. We were all in singular places once. Now we're a universe of cell signals, emails and snapshots of the days behind and ahead. I'm thankful for technology, but I wonder if we'd all be closer if folks still wrote letters, if there was no Youtube, if long distance was still expensive as shit.

I wrote more pages last night. And they were good. I'll write more today, on this bus and in the hours while most of my family sleeps. For the first time in a good while it's the actual work that's keeping me alive. My mind is a cloudless night filled with countless twinkling possibilities, unexplored planets the warm wetness of the taut chasm I somewhat secretly crave. All in due time though, or at least I hope. My coach is filling with passengers. The Chinese women are toning down their screaming. I guess that means it's time to go. Out.

P.S. Shoutout to Ifaniyi. I know we ain't hollered in a second dude ;)