Shopping Around For Car Insurance

When I was up in Mt. Forest last time, Dad handed me a page he'd torn from the local newspaper.

"Here," he said. "Read this. It's all about car insurance. I saved it for you."

The page contained a vast chart showing annual insurance premiums charged by dozens of insurance companies. The rates shown reflected the cost of insuring the same vehicle and driver in the same city, but through at least fifty different companies. The price range was, to vastly understate it, surprising. The least expensive was about $1100 while the most expensive was over $10,000. I couldn't believe my eyes, Ms J! Dad knew I was amazed.

"You should get on that computer of yours," he said, "and look up www dot whatever-the-hell-it-says-there, and see if you might save yourself some money."

So when I got home again, that's just what I did. I got on that computer of mine and looked up www.insurancehotline.com and what I learned is going to save me about $600 a year. Clearly, it pays to shop around. Here. In the States. Or even the UK.

I've spoken with an insurance broker and agreed to switch companies. She emailed me all the forms to print and fill out. I'll fax them all back to her tomorrow.

I don't much care for insurance companies, Ms J, of any kind. I think they're evil but I understand they're a necessary evil. I've been glad of their help over the years, when I needed it. They paid to have my old car repaired after a terrifying accident in a winter storm with Meagan a few years ago. And then there was that time I hit a deer on the way to a play rehearsal in Caledon. Remember that one? And the time my jacuzzi tub leaked through the kitchen ceiling a few days after I bought this house.

So yeah. I don't like insurance companies. I still think they're greedy and often more concerned with profits than property. Or people. And I feel resentful of any business selling a product (auto insurance) that's illegal not to have. But if you need the slimy scoundrels, by golly, you'll be glad of their help.

Anyway, I'll be saving fifty bucks a month. Better in my pocket than theirs.

***

Awesome Weekend

That was the shortest weekend ever, Ms J. It seemed to fly past. I was off socialising the entire time. On Saturday afternoon, I drove to Newmarket to attend a retirement party for a work mate. There were lots of people there and he was pleased and surprised.

"I didn't know I had so many friends on the railway," he said later.

Rob was a good guy, Ms J. Everyone liked him. He rarely got angry or frustrated when things didn't go well. He was a very good engineer and took pride in doing a good job.

It's a bitter-sweet sort of occasion, isn't it? I mean you look forward to retirement for thirty years and then feel sad when it finally arrives.

Rob was full of beer and dewy-eyed when I left there around 5:00. I had another party to attend in Georgetown.

Christina is a friend of my niece, Sherri. She's young, Ms J, about twenty-five maybe. She and her mother have recently bought a house and invited friends over for a house warming party. My brother and sister-in-law were there along with a crowd of younger people. The music was a bit loud for this old man, but still, it was a lot of fun. Eventually.

My friend Scott and his wife Liz live only a few blocks away and so, when things began to drag a bit at Christina's, I buggered off to visit Scott for an hour or so. We had a nice visit. I didn't know it, but Liz has a friend who works at Wrigley's.

"Would you like some gum?" asked Scott and I said sure, expecting a stick.

"Get the Doc some gum, Liz," he said and off she went.

In a minute, she returned with a plastic shopping bag completely STUFFED with gum. Boxes and boxes of it. Spearmint. Bubble gum. Peppermint. Juicy Fruit. Altoids - "the curiously strong breath mint." The bag must have weighed ten pounds.

"Here," said Liz, and she handed me the bag. "Don't put it all in your mouth at once."

I took it all back to the party and shared it with the other guests. Believe me, Ms Journal, there was lots for everyone.

It was late - about 2:00 a.m. - when we left. I drove Pat's van back to his place and spent the night there. On Sunday morning, Pat and I and my nephew Jeff all went to see The Simpsons movie. We thought it was hilarious, but we're all huge Simpsons fans. I came home after the show on Sunday because I had another party to attend, this time here in Mimico.

A group of church friends gathered to visit and eat bbq'd food and salads. We drank lots of wine and beer too. Yeah, Ms J, my church friends are cool. Probably not as cool as me, but hey ... Let's face it. Few people are.

I wore my sandals and the ants and mosquitoes feasted on my feet. My poor ankles are a mess of red, itchy welts. The tops of my feet are as well. And my shins. Little buggers, eh?

But I had a brilliant time. Most of my favourite church friends were there. We sang songs and Cy played his guitar. The food was delicious and I ate til I was uncomfortable. Didn't drink much though. The party ended around 8:00 and I came home and showered. Then I went to bed and scratched myself to sleep.

Whew! What a short, but fantastic weekend!

I wonder where my son is?

***

Just Now

Ring, ring.

“Hello?”

“Hi Daddy! It’s your amazing daughter. I have the most amazingly amazing news to tell you!”

I smiled into the phone. I’d been wondering how she was doing.

“What, Honey? What’s the good word?”

“I just got a phone call from a lady at the SuperStore. She asked me if I could come in for an interview tomorrow. At 11:15. I’ve got a job, Dad! Looks like I’ve got a job. Well, I don’t have it yet, but I’ll prob’ly get it. I’ll be working at the SuperStore, folding clothes and stuff. My first job, ever!!”

She was on Cloud Nine, Ms J. She prattled on at sixty miles an hour for five minutes while I listened and grinned.

“How will you get to work, Scout?” I asked. “Will Mummy drive you?”

“I don’t know, Dad. I haven’t thought that far ahead yet. I guess I can walk if I have to.”

It’s a long walk, Ms Journal. I don’t know how far it is, but more than a mile I should think. Maybe a mile and a half. Maybe two. And uphill nearly all the way. I decided to let it go and not rain on her parade. She was so pleased with herself. And it made my heart glow.

“Whatever,” I said. “First get the job, then we’ll worry about how to get you there.”

“Yeah, Dad. No worries. I’ll get there somehow. Do you want me to call you tomorrow to tell you how the interview went?”

“Please, Meagan. That’d be great!”

“OK,” she said. “I’ll call you as soon as the interview is over. And I’ll sing Happy Birthday to you, too. Tomorrow’s your birthday, eh?”

Dan starts his new job this afternoon at 5:00. And Meagan has her interview tomorrow morning.

Happy Birthday, Dale! This may be the best birthday you’ve had in years.

***

What I Did On My Vacation

Sheesh! How can seven days pass so quickly, Ms J?

---

I visited my parents last week.

Spent two days with my boy. Bought him some boots.

Went golfing.

Nearly finished painting the deck.

Visited my brother twice. Helped him install a new clothes dryer, and carry the old one out. Linda made me a birthday cake. They all sang Happy Birthday and I blew out the candles.

Spent the day with a friend today. Colleen. Nice girl. We saw a play this evening here in Mimico.

---

How can seven days pass so quickly, Ms J? I'm back to work officially at midnight tonight. Back on the spareboard and subject to call anytime after 0001.

I wonder how Meagan is?

How can seven days pass so quickly, Ms J?

Sheesh.

***

Another Glimmer of Hope

I got a message from Dan yesterday. A text message. I was dabbing away at my deck with brush and stain and feeling quite at ease when my cell phone chirped. Naturally, I expected the worst. Why do we do that, Ms J? Why do we allow our imaginations to conjure up the most dire scenarios before we know even a hint of the facts? I opened the phone and pressed the button.

"DAD! I GOT A JOB! ONLY 1 PROBLEM: I DON'T HAVE STEEL TOED BOOTS."

Hmm, I thought. This wasn't bad news. This was something good, something positive. The phone chirped again.

"I'M SO HAPPY! $10.75 AN HOUR! SARAH'S MUM AND DAD ARE SO PROUD OF ME!"

Yes. This was good news. And they weren't homeless. They hadn't been expelled from Sarah's parents' home after all. Her parents must have relented and let them stay. And Dan had a job, or at least the promise of one. And he didn't hate me. He'd contacted me, albeit to ask for a favour, but still ... And he seemed so pleased with himself. I allowed my furrowed brow to relax and began typing.

"Wtg, Dan! I'm proud of you too. I'm coming to gtown 2morrow. We'll meet for lunch and get you some boots. k?"

"Thanx dad. I luv u!!"

"I love u 2. C U 2 morrow."

So that's my task today, Ms J, to get the boy some boots. I hope this job is real and not just another of his fantasies. I hope he gets this job. And I hope he keeps it. The bright promises Life has offered Dan are invariably followed by crushing disappointment, mostly of his own making. I'm afraid he hasn't much confidence in his own abilities.

Oh well ... One step at a time, right? And a man needs a good pair of boots to step confidently.

Fingers crossed.

***

Here I Am!

I'm back Ms. J. Sorry I haven't written lately. I've been on holidays this week and busy doing nothing.

I played golf on Wednesday morning. That was fun. My friend Bob (No, not Angry Bob. Another Bob.) and I played at a local course not far from his home. The weather was lovely and the course was uncrowded. I didn't bother keeping score. I'm not much of a golfer, Ms J. When it comes to golf, I don't know my arse from a hole in the ground and it's been suggested that this may hamper my ability to play well. Anyway, we played eighteen holes and I only lost four balls. The best two balls I hit happened when I inadvertently stepped on a rake in a sand trap. And I got my bald head sunburned a little. It's not sore, though. And the twins are fine.

After golf, I drove straight to Mt. Forest to visit Mum and Dad. They're well. On Thursday, Dad and I set out to scrape and paint the garage doors but Mother Nature was fickle and couldn't decide between thunderstorms and sunshine. We didn't get much done but we enjoyed each other's company.

Dad tires so easily now. He'd work for a little while then sit down and curse a bit and then work a little more. After dinner, he dressed in his blue blazer and military medals to attend a Royal Canadian Legion memorial service for a fellow legion member.

"I didn't really know him that well," Dad said as Mum straightened his tie. "But there's not many of us old soldiers left anymore. It just seems like the right thing to do."

Mum and I felt proud of our "old soldier" as he marched out the door.

I stopped in to visit brother Pat on the way home. He and his wife are just home from a holiday in Boston. They had a fabulous time and met some really friendly people.

"They don't say 'You're welcome'," Linda told me. "They say 'shu-ah.' It sounds funny at first but after a few days, we were saying it too."

I enjoyed a cup of tea with them, and some of Linda's zucchini bread. They gave me a souvenir t-shirt from Cape Cod, and an early birthday card. I stayed a couple of hours and it was 11:00 when I announced my departure.

"Thanks for the tea, Lindy," I said as I headed for the door.

"Shu-ah!" she said and smiled.

Pat invited me back again this weekend.

"C'mon back on Sunday," he hollered after me. "Linda'll bake you a birthday cake, won't ya, hun?"

I think I'll return on Sunday, by golly. My sister-in-law really bakes good cakes.

I'll be 49 on Tuesday.

Four-tee-nine.

Shu-ah.

***

Huntin' With My Boy

Dan and I went hunting last week, for groundhogs.

I had some time off work and I wanted to see my boy so I sent him a text message.

“Wanna go hunting?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow afternoon. Just you and me. Wanna go?”

“Yes, Dad. But I moved. I live in Mount Forest now.”

I wasn’t too thrilled to hear that, Ms J. I was hoping to go to Pat’s house in Georgetown, get the guns we store there, and then collect Dan at his place two minutes from my brother’s. Oh well. MF wasn’t too far out of the way. I had to go that way anyway.

“No problem, Dan. A man is coming here today to sell me some new shingles. He’s coming at noon. It’ll be around 4 when I get you. OK?”

“K. Can’t wait. C U 2morrow.”

And so it was. The man came at 12:30. I agreed to have Peter and Greg Walker Roofing put new shingles on my house. It was nearly 5:00 when I picked up the boy. I must tell you, Ms J, it felt odd to drive right past Mum and Dad’s place without stopping in, but time was short. It was another hour to the farm where we planned to hunt and it would be dark before 9:00.

It was a nice trip from MF to the farm. Dan talked all the way about nothing. I listened though. My dad always listened to me when I talked about nothing. At the farm, we had a little visit with the farmer and his wife. Morris and Doris have been family friends for years. They're really good people.

The shadows were growing long as we headed out into the hay fields. Morris had recently mowed and baled the first crop of hay, and it’s been so dry lately, the grass hadn’t grown much at all since then. Morris fears he'll have to buy hay, for if the rain doesn't come soon, there won't be time for a second crop.



The sky was nearly cloudless. A gentle breeze blew. The temperature was ideal. It was a perfect day for hunting groundhogs.

We saw about a dozen, I suppose, in the two hours we spent. I only shot at two of them and let Dan try his luck on the rest. I shot one, a good, clean kill through the upper body and neck. The second time was a long shot, and I missed. Dan used his Uncle Pat’s .22 rifle with a scope but alas, had no success at all.



I wanted so much for him to shoot a groundhog, Ms J. Dan really needs the ego boost. He missed every time, though, even from quite close. He really had a bad day.

He took it well, though. I told him shooting groundhogs was not the real reason I was there. I told him I wanted to spend some fun time with my son. And that was the Gospel Truth. I think he enjoyed himself despite his lack of success.

On the way back to Dan's place, I examined my son. He looked pretty good. His eyes were clear and blue. His skin was unblemished. His hair was shiny. His hands were fairly steady, but I noticed his finger nails had been gnawed halfway to the quick. It must hurt to bite them down so far.

"Are you enjoying Life 'on the Mount', Dan?" I asked.

He said it was good. And then he told me about the drugs that were available there. I didn't know whether to believe him or not, Ms J. It seems hard to imagine that a little farming community a hundred miles from the big city could be such a Mecca for drug users. Maybe his point was simply to tell me that although drugs were available, he hadn't used them.

"I'm doing good lately," he said. "I haven't even had weed in a couple of months."

And then he told me about a legal form of hallucinogen available at some convenience stores. I don't recall the name he used.

"It's still legal, Dad. Anybody can buy it. You smoke it like weed, and you get really high but it only lasts a few minutes. I got some once a long time ago and let Mum try it. She got wasted off her ass but it didn't last long. Scott tried it later and he said it was amazing. He actually fell back and slid down the wall."

I shook my head and tried breathing away the confusion. How could I respond to something like that, Ms J? How should I respond? Conversations with Dan invariably involve drugs at some point. It seems there's no way around it. However, I suppose talking about it and doing it are two different things. Meagan talks about sex. I talk about quitting the railroad. But that doesn't mean we're actually going to do it. I hope.

So my son has left the hovel he shared with Sarah in Georgetown and has moved with her to the town where my parents live. They (Dan and Sarah) live in a big old house in town with Alan, Kelly's newest "friend." I assume Alan's "in the lifestyle" too. And I'm sure Kelly plans to live there permanently soon.

"Have you gone to visit Grandma and Grandad yet, Dan?"

"Not yet."

"They'd be happy to see you. I know they would. And you're only a few blocks away."

"Yeah," he said. "I'll get over and see them one day soon. I've been pretty busy lately, though."

I nodded my head, Ms Journal. But I wasn't convinced.

I am convinced however, that Kelly will soon move her eclectic entourage and her twisted "lifestyle" to my parents' town and the drama will begin anew.

God help them.

***

Mimicking in Mimico

I like birds, Ms J. I've discovered a fondness for them as I've grown older. When I was a boy, Dad would point out a bird and patiently urge me to stop and look at it. But I wasn't interested.

"Yeah, Dad. A bird."

"Not just a bird," he'd say. "It's a grackle. Look at his pretty head."

"Yeah. Pretty head. Throw the frisbee, Dad."

This morning, I heard the unmistakable song of a red-winged blackbird. He was nearby. When I located the source of the sound, I saw not a blackbird, but a mockingbird. How odd it was to hear a blackbird's song coming from something other than a blackbird! He stopped for a moment and then began again, this time as a cardinal. After a bit, he changed his tune again and sounded for all the world like a robin. I was mesmerized, Ms J!

At home here just now, I searched the internet for mockingbirds and stumbled upon this:



The Lyre Bird. Absolutely amazing!

***

Well That Was Weird

I shared this story with Michelle, our awesome Aussie. Here's what she wrote:

omg....lol, I'd be selective about who you actually told this to! They may be measuring you up for a straight jacket!

I told her I'm a bit embarrassed, Ms J. I'll tell you the story, but I don't want the whole world to know how silly I am.

---

I had a nap after work today. It was about 4:00 pm when I got home and I was too tired even to make dinner. Too much activity lately, Ms J. And too little sleep. I went and laid my head on the pillow in Meagan's room and fell asleep. Fast asleep. When I woke up, it was nearly 8:00. I felt rested and refreshed. Ready for a new day.

"I musta been pretty tired," I thought as I stretched and yawned. "I can't believe I slept here all night."

A thin sliver of sunlight struggled through a gap in the window curtains. My stomach rumbled and hunger lead me downstairs. I was famished.

I filled the coffee maker with water and measured out two tablespoons of coffee. The aroma was delightful! While the coffee brewed, I returned upstairs to have a shower, shave, and get ready for church. It was going to be a humid day and so I put on my new black shorts. A bright yellow golf shirt looked good with the shorts and I pulled it over my head. I found some money in a pants pocket and transfered it to a collection envelope.

Downstairs again, I opened the fridge and removed a carton of eggs, a jug of orange juice, and some bacon. The sky was getting darker and I switched on the ceiling light and peered outside.

"Storm's coming," I thought. "Good. I hope it rains all day. We sure need it."

I cooked two strips of bacon first and then fried two eggs in the sputtering grease. I don't know what Heaven smells like, Ms J, but I think it must smell like breakfast. While I waited for the toaster, I poured a cup of coffee and put some milk in it. I took my cup to the dining room and looked out the sliding glass door onto the deck and into the garden beyond. The sky was really getting dark. It was going to be a helluva storm. I decided I'd better take an umbrella with me to church.

When breakfast was over, I put the dishes in the sink and ran some water over them to soak. I'd wash up after church. I went to the front door and slipped my sandals on.

"They'll be alright for church," I muttered. "They were good enough for Jesus. I bet his didn't have Velcro fasteners, though."

I opened the door and stepped outside and I was awe stricken by the darkness. It was eerie, Ms Journal. Spooky. I wondered if the storm might be a severe one. Could a tornado be coming? To the best of my knowledge, Mimico had never seen a tornado. Hurricane Hazel wreaked havoc here in the early '50's, but there hadn't been any really severe weather since then.

"My God!" I thought. "The bloody streetlights are on! I can't believe it's so dark at 9 o'clock in the morning. It looks more like 9 o'clock at night!"

And as I stood there on the front porch, Ms J, with my new black shorts and my bright yellow shirt and my sandals with the Velcro fasteners, ... As I stood there clutching my collection envelope, the Truth slowly began to dawn on me.

It was not Sunday morning. Not yet. It was, in fact, still Saturday. Saturday evening. It looked like 9 o'clock at night, Ms J, because it WAS 9 o'clock at night.

I shook my head and smiled. Then I laughed. I laughed out loud at myself and at the absurdity of it all. Breakfast. Coffee. Morning ablutions. Heading off to church.

As I returned to the safety of my home I imagined myself arriving at church, twelve hours early, and carrying a brolly under starry skies.

Gosh, I'm silly sometimes. Sometimes, Ms J, I crack myself up.

I guess I'll wash those dishes now. And then go back to bed.

Good night.

***

Look at Me, Ms J! I'm Naked!!

Hmmm ... I'll bet that title directs a few pervy people toward this URL.

Ha! Too bad, tossers! Now off you go.

---

Can you guess who this delightful young lad is?

The year was 1962. Those were the days, eh Ms J? Men worked. Women raised respectful children. Neighbours knew each other and said hello. Gasoline cost 37 cents a gallon. It was safe to breathe the air and drink the water. A joint was something in my arm, and a hard drive was a trip to Grandma's in the back seat of Dad's Chevrolet with annoying sisters on either side.

Do you suppose every generation pines for the years gone by?

***

Donna Pace

Donna Lesa Pace.

That was her name. That's the name of the only woman I've ever loved, Ms J, and the one who broke my heart. Donna Pace. Her name was pronounced "PA-shay." Her paternal grandfather had immigrated to Nova Scotia from his native Italy although Donna's fair skin and blue eyes belied her Mediterranean heritage. Her radiant smile could light up a room and her joie de vivre was contagious. I met her in November of 1994 and moved in with her before Christmas. I found two new loves that winter. Donna and crystal meth.



Every weekend, I was high on speed. And every weekend, I was daddy to these two innocents. Guilt, Ms J? Oh yeah. I have lots of that. LOTS.

We had money then, Donna and I. We sold the stuff as well. Trust me on this one. There is a great deal of profit in drug dealing. It was easy money. We didn't need to work much at our real jobs. And we lived the Life of Reilly. Fancy car. Vacations. It sounds like a good Life, doesn't it? I suppose it was in many ways. Certainly, Donna enjoyed it. She suffered no guilt, no worries. Her family and friends knew what she was doing. They didn't appear to disapprove. Not openly, anyway.

But I had to live in the shadows. I was living two Lives. In one, I was father, brother, son, employee. In the other, I was a drugged out space cadet. Often the line that separated them became thin, dangerously thin. It was a difficult time for me and without really acknowledging that, I made Life difficult for Donna. I was jealous of her. I begrudged her her happiness, her carefree Lifestyle, her lack of responsibilities. A part of me wanted to be a devout Hedonist, but it conflicted with my need to be a good daddy and son. I knew I was not living up to my potential, but gosh, how addicted I was to speed. I won't tell you I didn't enjoy it, Ms Journal, because I did. It felt FABULOUS! In the end though, we were both miserable. And when God or good fortune drew us apart, I think Life improved for both of us.

I'm much happier now, in spite of my current challenges at work. I'll bet Donna's happier too, although not without struggles of her own, I'm sure. It must be lonely sometimes, living as she does in a small town in Holland, far from her own family and culture. I wonder how often she comes "home" to visit loved ones in her native Nova Scotia.

I don't really miss her as I once did. But I do think of her still, from time to time. I don't reckon I'll ever see her again and if I were completely honest, Ms J, I'd admit that I used her name in this post in the hope that she might one day search her name on the internet and discover my blog. It remains somewhat important to me that she know I'm OK, and that my Life has proceeded in a positive direction since we called a halt to our relationship and hugged good-bye for the last time in a lawyer's office in Toronto.

I wish you peace, Donna Lesa. Good luck. Good health.

Me? It's been a long time, I know. Seven years. I'm ready, finally, to move on.

There's a new someone in my Life. A new radiant smile. She's not yet ready to make a formal announcement, and we've only just begun to date, but I do quite like her, Ms Journal. And I know she likes me too. More details in due time.

So long, Donna! Farewell.

***

The Best Kind of Day

I spent a recent afternoon with my kids. It was good, Ms J. Real good. I picked up Meagan at noon and we headed over to Dan’s place. We planned to have lunch together first, then surprise Dan by buying him a new cell phone. Dan had asked if Sarah might come along, but Meagan resisted.

“I don’t really want Sarah to come, Dad. I mean, I like her and all. She’s one of my best friends. But I kinda wanted it to be just you and me and Dan today. Just the Pringles, you know?”

I often encourage my daughter to speak her mind and state her desires. Today was one of those days.

“Tell Sarah how you feel, then, Scout. Speak your Truth and be gentle. You have the right to ask for anything you want. But remember, you don’t have the right to get angry if your needs are not always met.”

I waited in the car while she went off to fetch her brother. After a few minutes, they returned. Sarah had agreed to stay home this time and allow us some private family time.

“Yeah,” said Dan as he slid the seat forward to allow Meagan in the back. “She was a bit disappointed, but she understood.”

We went off to the mall where we had lunch. After lunch, I turned to Meagan.

“Tell him, Meagan. Tell him about the surprise.”

Dan waited while Meagan gathered her thoughts.

“Well, me and Dad rolled some coins at his place a while ago. There was about four hundred bucks.”

Dan hooked his thumb in his long hair, drew it back away from his face, and fixed it behind his ear.

“Yeah?” he said.

Meagan continued.

“Yeah, and we decided we should ... well, Dad decided he should ... BUY YOU A NEW CELL PHONE!”

Dan’s face lit up.

“Really?” he said.

“Yup,” said his sister proudly. “Really.”

And so we did. We priced phones at a couple of stores and I let Dan choose the model he wanted. He was very happy, Ms J. Very happy indeed. And he thanked me for it.

“That’ll be your birthday present, Dan,” I told him. “It’s a bit early, but I know you needed a phone.”

Actually, Ms J, I’m happy too. Now I can contact him whenever I want.

We took the boy home to Sarah afterward and then Meagan and I returned to Mimico where she spent the entire evening downloading music to her iPod. She was ecstatic when I took her home.

“I have, like, the coolest iPod ever, Dad. Can you believe it? I have eight hundred and thirty four songs on here now. All my favourite music. Thanks for this.”

And she lunged at me and threw her arms around me.

“It was a good day, wasn’t it Dad?”

“It was a brilliant day,” I said. “I spent some time with both of my kids and saw both of them happy. That’s the best kind of day there is.”

Yup. That's the best kind of day there is.

***

Workin' on The Railroad

I went to work. I drove a train. This is my Life.

Well, this is a part of my Life.

I know. It's not terribly exciting at the moment, is it?

***