Searching for Americana, at Harmony’s Whimsy

So last month’s big surprise to me was that some people will lie to get what they want. Long story short, I got over it. And just because I can say I forgive her, it doesn’t mean that today’s ‘friend request’ on social networking will be answered by anything but a resounding, “no.”

On with it, and we are.

I’m Bruce Lombardo, and I’d like to tell you a little about me. I grew up in Central Illinois. I attended a Methodist religious environment. My parents are blue collar and we were close to Decatur, Illinois. After I graduated WLHS by the skin of my teeth, I served the nation in the USN.

Fast forward to 2011, and I’m moving back to Texas. I served close to where I lay my head at night. I struggle at first, ignoring the economy based around energy services. My family forgives me as long as I can figure a way out of this spot in life.

Once I go into the energy services, I discover exactly why I moved to Texas. I spent sixteen years out of the military in the state of Illinois, seeing only small increases in wages and sharp increases in cost of living. Here, I triple what I made in my home state easily.

This last month, I’ve tried to do what I can to gather myself economically from a poorly-thought out vacation. Finally I feel like my feet are on the ground properly. I had one last piece of work left from Illinois and when I saw that it wasn’t going to cut it, I felt like, “okay, it’s time to live your life, Bruce.”

And I feel like I am. While I’m working 140 hours or more in a two-week period, when I’m away from work I feel like I actually have an existence, which many friends envy. I have the nomadic lifestyle going on, town-to-town, hotel-to-hotel, then back on days off. I thank YHWH/God every time I get the chance to wake up.

What I am missing from my life is the romantic companionship, and I haven’t had anything serious for almost seven years. Even that was poorly thought-out and implemented. Now mind you, for ten years of my life, I dated two of the nicest women who are with someone else now–that’s how life works. The void of expectancy in their absence has me figuring out finally, that I won’t get that level of relationship, if I keep looking for them. I realized that I wasn’t going to find anyone worth keeping if I tried any degree to find her, myself. Those ‘special ones’ are never around when you’re randy or needy. It takes a special catalyst to generate that element in your life.

By that token, I wasn’t going to live the same life my parents have romantically and emotionally. They met and were married in four months, still married-in-love after four decades. To my knowledge, my father, before his forced retirement, only had a handful of nights not sleeping in his own bed next to his wife.

I’m not slated for that to happen in my youth. My twenties were spent like many people’s teen years and thirties were spent trying to figure out how to get blood from a rose (Illinois, again). As it is, I’m happily looking at another seven months and I turn forty.

Forty. Only in number and name does that actually hit me. I don’t have any kids which have sprouted horribly fast in front of me or in my absence. I don’t have nearly as many pains as others my age, but they are there (and will probably get worse if I gain more weight). That’s really the only thing I want to do is drop my size. My current lifestyle isn’t going to do anything for me but show me the tastiest barbecue joints before my John Candyism. So as much as I like what I do, some modification needs to be made. but forty. How in the hell did I resign sixteen years to mainly living with my parents and finally outside of Peoria, Illinois?

No, no. Let’s not diagram this. I don’t need Madden stepping in my head with Frank Caliendo doing the best impersonation ever on how I was comfortable having that life. In fact, while I really do miss some folks from my previous life, I don’t see myself flying up or driving up to see them on occasion sans family illness.

From my previous life, the only thing I want is another Schnauzer. Two, actually. Furry little bastards is what they really are. Opinionated furry little things that train you as an owner to behave ‘like this’ so they have a place to sleep at night. I shouldn’t put my wish list on here like this, but I don’t see you people writing my blogs.

Where does this put me?

I’m thinking as much as I honor and love my parents, I’m not living their life. I’m not going to have their life. I have to put my own feet in motion and have no expectations. And while I am far from home, I must say, that I’ve never felt more comfortable in my life. Things are in harmony when I glance around to see my progress.

Like those innocent moments where you can hear the music to your favorite song or piece starting. As I edit on book three further, I feel at times the music in my life, the anacrusis is right *there* under the mathematic theory of the clock. You can hear it when you are embraced by what is taking place. You can see the pieces in motion, falling into place.

That’s how this last ten days has felt. From stillness I have momentum.

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2 thoughts on “Searching for Americana, at Harmony’s Whimsy

  1. Hell, that is borderline inspirational. Just need to figure out how to cut ties cleanly on this end… because that sure makes it sound good. As always.

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