This is a physical response to an overwhelming moment.  I will admit this situation was completely self-induced.  Hindsight is such a kick in the ass…what did I do?  How could this have happened?  I should have, could have, would have…in the end I did not.  It was not on purpose, I get distracted easily.  I am not offering an excuse, just an explanation.  Thankfully my memory is really good, as well as people who remind me that I do.

It is quite amazing…the journey.  I have no idea how it sustained for as long as it did, well I have one idea, traffic.  Your last trek, you traveled in the open air from Brooklyn to Queens and then you met your unfortunate demise on Route 95 (North on the Connecticut and New York line). I feel so sorry that I wedged you between the bars of my roof rack.  I am even sorrier I had forgotten I put you there.  Some people may write you off as something, you were everything!  In remembrance of your existence I am paying homage to you.  My dear blank-book I miss you so.  You weren’t so blank when the roof let you go.  Your pages filled with the most valuable information contained in my mind since January.  Now I negotiate your loss by being thankful I start a new book every six months.  My wife, Heather, transcribed all I could remember and as I dictated it from my memory in an attempt to calm myself down.

It happened like this, we had finally picked up some speed after sitting in traffic for the lifetime of at least 3 flies.  It felt good, the trip had been amazing, and I heard an unfamiliar thump-thump, in time to look into my rearview mirror.  I watched as it freed many of its pages from the binding and white rectangles flew like seagulls into the infinity of the highway behind me.  It took a moment…then I began to fan my face…I realized it was my book…so young and lost too soon.  “May the road rise to meet you.”

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