Time Warp

Do you ever feel like time has become an unpredictable entity? I know my life is a little crazier than usual, but recently it feels like I'm almost living outside of time.

I've been spending my weekends in the alternating rush and lull of a ticket booth at Silverleaf Ren Faire, where my customers are all "m'lord" and "m'lady;" where the security guy wears a sword at his belt and a plume in his hat; where my faithful rock dragon, Igor, guards the modern money while I make change. I spend my breaks hanging around with knights, ladies, and bards of all stripes, watching sword fights and jesters. It really is like some sort of alternate universe. The spell doesn't always break the moment I leave, either -- I've caught myself calling waiters, waitresses, and strangers at the rest stop "m'lord" or "m'lady." Luckily, they don't usually realize what I've said.

Then, perhaps I'll spend my evening playing trumpet in the Kiwanis band, where my friends talk of the day that Harry James came to East Lansing as though it was yesterday. ("He kept drinking from this glass of water through the whole show -- though it wasn't really water, you know..." a gentlemanly clarification for the naive girl at the end of section.) They remember going to dances where all the men were too old or too young, because the truly eligible fellows were away at war. My friends are on the young end, but they never minded dancing with an older woman.

I'll be home, reading -- currently a charming novel by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, "Beyond the City." This portrait of suburban life before 1900 is one into which I would fit very comfortably, and my imagination takes me there in a minute. Perhaps women will earn the vote someday...

I'm still packing boxes, so I'm playing every LP I own. I even cut the cellophane off my brand-new Big Band LP -- great stuff. Harry James, Duke Ellington, everybody who matters. I've discovered the Smothers Brothers -- so much talent and silliness in one package! Perfect for a late-night effort.

What decade am I living in? What century, for that matter? Which state am I in today? It's Monday, you say? And afternoon already. Well, how time flies. Or does time spin like a top? Maybe I spend some time with the theory of relativity again. It's so hard to measure the immeasurable. Still, without some type of measure, my days begin to lose all feelings of structure. Without structure, I begin to lose track of where and when I am today.

Where and when, perhaps, but never who. That's the best part -- I'm always still me. :)