But It’s Too Late

I have been working on putting into words something that has been running through my mind lately. I’ve written most of it down, but it just doesn’t sound right. If it was handed to me to edit, I would tell the writer that it looked forced, hollow, and not up to the standards that the writer has shown in the past. It doesn’t say everything I want to say in a way that I want to say it. I think it is sub-par work at best, so I am not going to post it until it is right. I hope that the relevance it holds is still in effect when I do post it. I hope it’s not too late.

Speaking of late, I haven’t written an article for my VW club’s newsletter in a long time. I wrote a few last year that were never printed. They still sit in limbo on my hard drive, awaiting the chance to be presented as the written word, at least in a tangible, hands-on type of format. The first one deals with my being in my element. I talk about working on a ’94 Golf that I used to have and how a simple task of changing the oil turned into a weekend affair. If it had been one of my buses, it would have been done in a few hours. Sure, I could finish the job in less time than that, but I tend to take my time, make sure that other jobs don’t need to be done inspect other parts of the underside of the Bus while I’m down there and while the oil is draining. What took so long with the Golf? Finding other problems along the way, not thinking before jumping in, etc.

The second article is a play on the condition of a road in comparison with the condition of life and love. I compare a smooth road to things going smoothly in your life and in matters of love. A bumpy road full of potholes and unpaved surfaces is comparable to problems that arise in your life. Take a divorce, for example, (ahem) that tests both the stability of your life and the dealings of your love life at the same time. That road is surely unpaved and full of unseen dangers. It is bumpy and the passengers are uncomfortable, wishing for a smooth highway. I then only promise those riding along that I will strive to find the paved road, the one that meanders through the countryside, with twists and turns that make the drive all the more pleasurable. Not too winding, though...

Just for the heck of it, I’m going to post it here. Why not? I surely can’t explain everything I had to say in just one paragraph…

Love, Life and Good Roads

Boy, do I love a good road. The sound of the smooth pavement under your wheels is like a song with a familiar melody and ever-changing lyrics. Rolling along, you hum the tune instead of singing because you never know what the next word will be. And sometimes, when going down the road, the tune will change. Just when you think that the road will always be smooth, you hit a bump or a rock. You suddenly realize that the road isn’t as smooth as you always thought it was. Maybe time has made the road brittle, causing several unseen pitfalls that jostle you out of your complacency and make you realize that the road is ever changing. Sometimes you have to turn off of the nice paved road and onto a gravel or dirt road. The ride is a lot less smooth, but you still push onward, knowing that the destination is just ahead.

Life is like a road. The smoother the road, the better the ride is. When there are no obstacles in your path, you might forget that there are any other roads than a good paved one. When the road changes to a less-smooth one, sometimes you are surprised by the sudden change. It’s not that the new road is not worth traveling, it’s just that an adjustment of mentality is in order. You hold the wheel a little tighter; take care to watch where you are going, and make necessary changes in your driving habits. Where you once took the road for granted, thinking that it would always be smooth, you now anticipate the bumps and turns, taking care to evaluate each one to make the ride smoother. Knowing that the smooth highway has now changed to a gravel side road, you learn to appreciate the former road, and yearn to be back on it, or somehow make the new road a little easier to drive.

Love is also like a road. When you are going along, laughing, loving and enjoying the ride, the song from the wheels is a song of romance. You know the tune and sometimes, even the words, because the road is familiar to you. You have been on that road for years and years, with no changes, no toll booths, and no potholes to make you think that the road might change. When it does change, the shock is sometimes more than you can handle. Here you have been, with your driving partner riding shotgun, maybe some smaller riders in the back seat, and suddenly the road changes. No bumps or alteration in the feel of the road to warn you, no yield or stop signs…the road just switches to an unpaved, maybe even unmarked path. You might stop and look for a map to show you where the new road will take you. Sometimes you find your way, sometimes you don’t. When you don’t, you need someone to show you the best way to go. You might need a team of workers to start mapping and paving the new road to make it a bit more drivable. And when you discover where you are going, how the road is going to feel, and where it will take you, everything comes back into perspective.

Smooth roads are better to drive on than rough roads. Rough roads cause more wear and tear on your vehicle and make the drive a bit less desirable. But you must drive on. You have somewhere to be and no change of road should keep you from getting to your destination. You tell your driving partners that if they stick with you, you will make the ride as comfortable as possible. You remind them of the final destination and how the ride there would be much more fun and the end more pleasing if you take the unpaved roads along with the paved ones. All will get you to where you are going, even if the ride is a little bit rough at times. You remind them of the roads that you have been on, tell them that you will work on making the new road a bit smoother and maybe even get back to the nice paved road. For now, all you can do is hold on a little tighter, avoid the bigger potholes, and make sure that all riders are safe in their seats.

Love, life, and good roads…one is the destination, one is what determines the condition of the road, and the other is how you get there. It’s up to each driver and passenger to decide which is which. For me, life is the destination, love is the condition of the road, and a good road is my desired path. The road may turn rough at times, but I am determined to avoid the bigger obstacles and road hazards. I will strive to make my partner and passengers as comfortable as possible during the transition of the road. I promise to find a way to make the road smoother, even find a way to get back to the rolling highway where the tune from the wheels is a familiar song with the newly learned words rolling off my lips. Because this time, I will have learned the words and will sing it with all my heart, with all my soul, and with all my being. It will be a song of the love of a good road.

Till later,
GoBusGo!

I think that I didn’t find the paved road in time. I found it too late.

Too late…how long had it been too late? When did the “last call” to save my marriage come? I can’t bring up a significant instance where I knew it was too late. All I know is that the moment I came to realize that there was a problem, it was too late. Not in my eyes, though. I don’t ever think it is too late to fix a problem. Not when you really want to work at it, to fix whatever is broken, to make right what has been wronged. No, it was too late in my wife’s eyes. She says she told me in her own way, over and over (again, in her own way) that she wasn’t happy and things needed to change. I just didn’t see it. Blind as a bat, I am.

Again with the music. I find songs that invoke memories composed of the times of my life...the good and the bad ones...well, I find them hard to listen to. But, this next song, even though it hurts to hear, I keep on listening to it and others, trying to put myself in the great scenario that plays in my mind when I listen…and I mean really listen…to the songs that make up my life.

Under some dirty words on a dirty wall
Eating takeout by myself
I played the shows
Got back in the van and put the Walkman on
And you were playing

In some other dive a thousand miles away
I played a thousand times before
And like pathetic stars, the truck stops and the rock club walls
I always knew
You saw them too
But you never will again

It's too late
Don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time

Elliott, man, you played a fine guitar
And some dirty basketball
The songs you wrote
Got me through a lot
Just wanna tell you that

But it's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
it's been too late
for a long time

Oh no
Things were looking up
Least that's what I heard
Oh no
Someone came and washed away your hard-earned
Peace of mind

When desperate static beats the silence up
A quiet truth to calm you down
The songs you wrote
Got me through a lot
Just wanna tell you that

But it's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time

It's too late
It's too late
No, don't you know
It's been too late
For a long time

-Ben Folds

That song brings wetness to my eyes each and every time I hear it. It really isn’t significant to me in a sense that pertains to love…heck, I don’t even know what he is talking about. It is just the “too late” words that make me...let's see...how can I say "cry" in a manly fashion?. This next one is one that I haven’t heard in a long time. It may have been while lying on the dentist’s chair while the hygienist had her hand in my mouth and asking questions at the same time…

Stayed in bed all morning just to pass the time
There's something wrong here, there can be no denying
One of us is changing, or maybe we've stopped trying

And it's too late, baby, now it's too late
Though we really did try to make it
Something inside has died and I can't hide
And I just can't fake it

It used to be so easy living here with you
You were light and breezy and I knew just what to do
Now you look so unhappy, and I feel like a fool

And it's too late, baby, now it's too late
Though we really did try to make it
Something inside has died and I can't hide
And I just can't fake it

There'll be good times again for me and you
But we just can't stay together, don't you feel it too
Still I'm glad for what we had, and how I once loved you

But it's too late, baby, it's too late
Though we really did try to make it
Something inside has died and I can't hide
And I just can't fake it
-Carole King

I know it is too late to do anything about my marriage. By the time this is read by anyone, it will be over anyway. But it is not too late to remain civil and friendly in this whole stinkin’ mess. I have a never-ending and undying love for my children. They are the cohesive material that will keep me together for the rest of my life and they are the reason to keep it cool with their mother. It’s not too late to tell them “I love you” every chance that I get. It’s not too late to make the most of my life, even though I am nearly forty freakin’ years old (really?). It’s not too late to make and keep new friends. It’s not too late to start over...

It’s not too late to love again.