a day in a life in brooklyn

A man sits with his coffee and paper on our stoop every morning.  I wonder what his story is.  I wonder what he did for a living.  I wonder why he's not at work.  Maybe he's apart of a new breed. Just without kids and wives and obligations.   I take the girls out for a walk.  We end up at the park and I push Dylan in the swings. Soon she will swing without me.  She's already using her legs to reach new heights.  Harper sits idle in the Ergo.  A rainbow appears.  Dylan takes a photograph with my iPhone.  I take the girls to daycare. Then I go for a run.  And when I run I close my eyes and I pretend I'm someplace else.  Today I pretend that I'm in Tulum and that I'm on a beach taking a walk. I wonder what it would be like to live there.  Living in a tent.  Living like a gypsy. Off the map. Off the grid. And than I open my eyes. And I'm crossing the BQE.  And I think about life on Mars. And I wonder if there's a place like Brooklyn on Mars. Then I get my carrot, ginger, apple and run errands for the family.  I wonder how many times I've done this walk in the last few years.  And how many more times I will walk this route in the future.  I run into an old friend.  We catch up and promise to get in touch but we always say that and never do.  The monotony of life is inevitable to some degree.  Mick Jagger said everything in moderation.  Later on in the evening I bake flounder with broccoli and open a bottle of French wine, a Pinot Noir from Smith and Vine.  And I watch a documentary on Leonard Cohen.  And I wonder what it would have been like to have lived during that time.  And I wonder how my life would have been different had I never left Canada.  And than I realize that there's no going back to the sixties.  But I could always go back to Canada.
DZ