A Dispatch From The End Of The RoadPosted: November 1, 2012
Hello, from the Omawarisan Compound in Key West.
I’ve taken a few days away from life to put my feet up and enjoy my best friends. They’ve asked me to put my feet back down, but whenever that happens, I walk. When I walk, I get interrupted by rum or beer. Then I sing and dance in the sun.
When I reach the sing and dance stage, pretty much the entire island agrees that I should be putting my feet up and writing. I’m showing them. I haven’t gone out to meet rum yet today, I’m writing first. That way, when I sing, they won’t be able to tell me to put my feet up and write.
Today is November 1. For those of you keeping score at home, that’s two days before my 51st birthday. November 1 is big for one other reason.
Next year on this date, I will be retired. I won’t be a part of the police department anymore. No more family squabbles, no more inspections, no more crime scenes, no more bodies, no more climbing tall things to talk to desperately sad people. Peace.
Maybe I’ll make words and maybe someone will buy them and probably the name my mom and dad gave me will be on the cover and maybe I’ll do the talk shows.
One year. I’ll be out of the job, safe.
I’m gonna go practice my celebration dance.
P.S. – Beards don’t itch when they grow in the sun.