Exit Music (Background Noise) in Background Noise

I have a new book on PB: Background Noise. I will occasionally post things from my old OD diary.

Exit Music for a Film - 4/27/2008

In San Diego, as a member of the battle group staff of the Constellation Battle Group I often found myself heading to North Island from Tierra Santa at eerily quiet times. The usually crammed highways empty at 3am. I was listening to a lot of Radiohead around then. And a lot of Toad the Wet Sprocket. Feeling high on a riverbed.

Forever, when I hear this song I will think of San Diego and empty highways. My first marriage was over, we were working on the details and it was a long ways from her finally going crazy and making everything difficult. It was a long ways from meeting X2. It was just me, driving to work – another at sea period, crying in my loneliness in the perfect peace of 3am and a million acres of highway. Just me, alone. The high lights over the highways flashing against the dash. 15, then 8, then 5. The Coronado Bay bridge. Orange avenue. The base, then the boat. The parking and the rolling suitcase and the feeling of dread of another time at sea, no flying. Just 12 hours a day on watch and workouts when I could get them. God awful meetings and the lunchtime thump, roar of the Air wing coming aboard. Somebody always making the comment They’re Here!, then to sea.

Just me.

Depending on the watch I stood, I maybe took a nap. I went a long part of workups in my own room. My roomie was the Flag Lieutenant, and the new Admiral was a high maintenance bitch - as they all are - and they hadn’t found the new guy yet. I installed carpeting and a fridge, and a VCR to the underside of the TV in the stateroom. And I spent a lot of time on my own when I wasn’t working. But I was always working. Nothing like the craziness that would ensue, where when we actually deployed we were working 20 hour days.

Soon enough I would move onboard for good. Give up pretending to be married.

I was probably depressed. I believed in marriage, even one that wasn’t working. I had children with that woman, and I wanted to find a way. But we agreed it wasn’t going to work. But I tried, I really tried. I know what that word means.

Then back to shore. The air wing flying off, a half day before we arrived. Sitting outside San Diego harbor. Waiting for the tide. The smell of roasting garlic coming off the gas lamp. The chill in the air as we stood on the empty flight deck, looking at the lights. Me dreading the drive back to a house I shared with a woman I didn’t love and the children we made.

And this song played over and over in my head.

Even in a crowd, it was just me. Alone. Wondering.

Sing us a song. A song to keep us warm. There’s such a chill. Such a chill.