The Drive.

Caleb calls me at about noon, "We have to go for a drive, I'm working now but around 5."
"Wicked!'
"We will talk then."
"Aight m'man. see you then." (click) "Holy shit! Caleb is pregnant or dying or getting married."
I anxiously watch the clock
1:41
2:17
2:46
3:23
4:20
4:44
4:51
4:56
5:01
5:11...(buzzzzzz!)
I jump, it always scares the shit out of me, this time I jump a little higher. I buzz him in... ohshit it could be that fucking census guy. shit shit. that fucker always shows up about this time and I am NOT letting that fucker steal my identity. ...fuck, I don't see Caleb's car. Damn! That bastards' passed my first level of defence. I can't just not answer the door, fuck cornered like a rat! I must prepare myself for conflict. where did I put...(knock knock knock) shit... shit...

"CALEB! Awesome! I was worried you were the census guy, he's been hounding me for days."

"I'm not letting them steal my identity." he says distractedly.

"SEE! I'm not the only one. Celery is calling me a kook."

"I pitched it after the first question.", looking at the floor.

"Problem is this census guy is really nice and I don't have the heart to tell him to stuff the census test up his ass. So I'm avoiding the conflict."

I make ready, we leave.

"Why did you park way the hell down the street? You scared the hell out of me."

"Every time I come up here there is never a spot in front of your place. I have to drive around the block." He is obviously on auto-pilot, his brain is seized upon a singular thought or action. So I make small talk.

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Today's Song of the Day is "All the Madmen" by David Bowie off his 1972 Album "The Man Who Sold the World."

Crazy Fact: In 1973 Bowie was a busy man: he recorded Aladdin Sane, produced Lou Reed's Transformer, produced the Stooges' Raw Power, and produced Mott the Hoople's comeback All the Young Dudes, for which he also wrote the title track. Crazy!
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"How's school?"

"I'm so sick of Puritains... and witchcraft. I want my brain back. I have to write 4 papers, and it's killing me. I have a week left." For a moment, he is distracted from whatever holds his mind so tightly. Whatever it is that has him, most of him, locked away. You can see it in his whole shape and form, he relaxes. His arms when relaxed seem to be like a kindly rope bridge pinned up by the shoulders and wrists. Slowly as this heavy thought again takes the spot light of his attention, as if he is slowly slipping in to a cold tank of water the fluidity of his form starts to become rigid. His hands grip the steering wheel tighter, his arms straighten and push his sholders back into the seat, his spine straightens, he sits higher in his seat and the emotion washes from his face and his eyes settle on the road. frozen in thought. Yikes! This is gonna be serious, when the HELL is going to tell me whatever the...

"Where the HELL are we going?"

"Downtown."

"We are going for a DRIVE downtown?" His tension is becoming contagious.

"I have to get a book, first. On witchcraft. It's for my paper."

"oh... ok."

We park the car. I obviously have a little time before the hammer falls, nice. I relax and yammer on and on about whatever comes to mind. One of those skipping sort of conversations, though it's a little one-sided I don't mind. We get to the corner of Queen and Spring Garden and Caleb get's dizzy and says he's having a bit of a panic-attack. He crouches down on the side walk and takes a breather. I tell him my "groundless fear" panic attack theories and as we continue walking I tell him all he has to do is remember that he is not in danger,

"There is nothing at risk right now, you are not doing anything life-threatening at this moment nothing..." We turn abruptly.

"Where the HELL are you going now?" (when the HELL is he going to tell me this big fucking thing!) he goes down some stairs and into a funny tiny little store.

"Hi, Caleb." I see a kind face smiling from behind a long counter. glasses, 50ish.

I look around. I've never been here before. There are glass cases filled with delicate little rings and bracelets and necklaces. Little black plastic numbers with big white prices sit next to each of them. 9450, 4320, 1090. How can something so small be worth so much? Good Lord. I had no idea things this expensive were sold in this city. What the HELL are we doing in here? Why does that guy know Caleb? Why is caleb buying jewelry? What would he be...?

". . . h o l y s h i t . . . " I looked up from the case.

He shrugged, tipped his head to one side and looked at me with a crooked smile of a man about to jump.

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Today's Song of the Day is "Do" by The White Stripes off their 1999 self-titled album "The White Stripes"

Crazy Fact: Jack White, guitar and vocals, Meg White, drums -- formed in 1997 on Bastille Day. weird 'n' crazy.
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Let's not talk about it until we leave." He looked pale.

"ok." I figure he is bearly holding on. If it were me. I'd be useless. You'd have to take me in and out of there on a stretcher with marionette strings on my wrists and mouth so I could conclude the transaction. I'd at least have to wear a diaper.

Caleb was doing much better than that. He was intense. keeping busy. looking around. We puttered around the showcases pointing and muttering while waiting for that alchemist-looking-guy on the other side of this short sort of wall to finish doing WHATEVER he was doing.

On the other side of that counter-thing was, all sorts of machinery, lights, magifying glasses, scales, a kilne, it was messy but organized i'm sure. and a really really big safe. He wore a thick leather apron, gray hair in that brill-creme sort of way, he definitely likes his elvis. Very welcoming in manner, Obviously very happy with his place in life. I'm sure he likes making jewelry and more than that he deals with people at their happiest and most excited all-day, every-day, all year-round.

Finally he came over and showed us the ring. White gold and ten perfect little diamonds. It was something else. Then it dawned on me. "Girl, your going to be a woman soon." I pictured in on her finger and all the sudden, though she's ten years my junior, she was about to be much older than me. Married... with a ring and everything. Here's the ring there's no denying it. nuts. I've noticed every experience worth a damn is always two-part it gives something and it also takes something away. Wow. Am I ever far from getting married. There's a little piece of emptiness for ya.

But how classy is this. He gets a ring MADE... ok ok ok let's do this from the beginning. He makes his mind he wants to do this. Jeesus I can't even say it! For those of us that have never done this, that's an inconceivable step. Am I Right? Then he looks at jewelry on the side without her knowing and HAS ONE MADE! with diamonds and gold from a pro. I was there, this is no bull-shit story. It takes a month to make a freaking ring... a MONTH! I can't keep my mouth shut for 3 hours let alone 30 days! Man! of course this is why he didn't tell me which he was all apologetic about when we were out for a drink after, but come on. DON"T TELL ME. I would probably yell at him "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING TELLING ME. I'm going to hemerage. I'll have a fucking STROKE trying to keep this in."

For a moment I felt like I was in the men's club, that mysterious place I keep hearing so much about, not the boys club of dirty jokes, cigars and poker games but the men's club, it was as he told us all the wisdom of the moment:

"Here let me wipe the finger prints off it. She won't like to see any finger prints." He eyed the ring greedily. Caleb handed him the ring. It was then realized how precious this ring was.

As he worked over the ring with a cloth he said, "She should be the first one to touch it, you guys, that's ok, But she should be the first woman to touch it."

He rinsed it off and continued to work it over. "I don't understand these guys who come in with there friends and they're girls. A woman's first instinct is to put it on."

He eyes the ring still holding it in the cloth then fits it back into the box. "No. Your girl should be the first one to put it on, if she knew, another woman had it on first. She would be savage."

I pick up the box and give it one, last, good look.

He watched us look at it. He smiled proudly. "Look at it under that light." he said pointing to a light over the show case. "It should really dance under that light."

It did. Sort of awed by it, I thought to myself "I'm a long way from buying one of these." There was a time when I was much closer to buying one of these. That seems like forever ago now.

Caleb trades a big stack of hundreds and fifties for this little black box with another littler black box in it that has a little piece a metal with little stones stuck in it. BIG little little little.

"I bet you didn't know he was carrying all that money with him when he walked in here."

"Hell, If I knew, he wouldn't have walked in here."

We all laughed and the tension finally started to fade. Caleb was all smiles and now looked more like he was kicked in the head rather than in the guts. Dizzy rather than winded.

He crammed the box in his pocket. It was huge and square. We walked away from that little shop as if we got away with a crime, smiling and excited, like thieves or vandals, unsure of what to do next. So much attention was focused on and in that moment, that a void followed it. We were a little lost. The change in pressure, the relief, it stunned us. So, of course, we went for scotch.

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Today's Song of the Day is 'Diamonds On The Soles Of Her Shoes' by Paul Simon off his 1986 album 'Graceland.'

Crazy Fact: Graceland became his biggest-selling solo album and won him another Album of the Year Grammy. CRAZY!
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