Red LightCraig Kirchner
Bad day at Delaware Park. Lost the last race in a photo and that was the day’s highlight. Tried to outrun a hangover with the hair of the dog – no photo here, Grey Goose easy winner. Now I’m stopped at the longest light in Wilmington, chin on fist, hurting. This guy pulls alongside, one hand on the wheel, the other choreographing an adamant conversation with no one, then I realize – the head set thing. Bad haircut and a headset. It occurs what a contrast we present the afternoon. Him - impressing those both near and far with his dialog, his eyes showing an altruistic joy with being so connected. Mine - bleeding and bored to the point of letting my mind wander into ‘Headset’s world’ and imagining his women profiling his importance. He’s never out of touch. On top and in control. He provides that input and direction that inspires. Constantly pulling the strings and mapping the strategy of whatever Empire afforded him this maroon Dodge Spirit and un-ironed corporate-logoed knit. The light changed and I hit it, wanting to have a clear lead at the first turn.
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