Alone, cold as fuck and way too early to be here.

If we are perceived and treated as less – when does more become less?

The dinosaur reminded me of the NFL football stickers they gave when dad would fill up. Sinclair. $.35 a gallon. I had the official notebook, sure wish I’d saved it. I really liked Roman Gabriel, a lot more than Namath. But both my sisters liked Broadway Joe, but not as much as Elvis. Or Ringo.

They still talk but rarely. Me with only one. And it’s better that way. Healthier.

So, how/why do we abandon some of our greatest relationships? Friendships? I wondered, but not necessarily willing to make the needed change. Or overture. Words can hurt. Sting. Brutalize.

I could come back after dark, like after close and lie down on the cold pavement, I saw some snow back by the trash. A few angels, maybe even a cigarette. Hands clasped on my belly I turn the coldness into warmth and embrace. Mind over matter. Connect with pop’s angels and let them know of my journey. And impending arrival.

He once took me over the summer to Shea and we got to meet our favorite Giants. I remember shaking hands with Spider Lockhart and Tucker Fredrickson. Sadly, Spider died young. But he was super nice when I met him.

Goddamn, it’s cold.

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