saw an old man almost get caught in the closing doors of the subway as he stepped off the platform. i was sitting right across from all this, and all i could envision was the train moving with him caught in the doors. "shit!" i said aloud as i almost sprung out of my chair. he managed to squeeze out from the vice grip, but only about a second before the train started moving. at first i thought he was an alcoholic, but it was soon clear that he had parkisons disease or something akin to it. the muscles in his face were lame and the expression in his eyes was hollow. his shouders hung low on his frame and his head even lower. his steps were taken carefully and he looked as if he were seconds waya from falling. i could only think of my late grandfather, who died on a new year's day of the same affliction.

there was a time when i was young, about four or five, and my grandfather took me for a walk in the park. he'd had the disease for about six or seven years at that point, so his motor skills and dexterity had substantially depleted by then. it was a real struggle for him to keep up with a youngster who wanted only to run and jump about. i remember running into a bog in my favourite park, and getting my shoes all muddied up. i'll never forget the look in his eyes when he finally caught up with me. even though his state of health at the time meant that his facial expressions could only yield limited tension, i could see in his eyes that he was afraid. he said something, most likely a reprimanding statement, but it was hard to tell what he said when he spoke, as his voice grew softer and his words sounded less intelligeable as each year passed by. he simply took me by the hand, sighed deeply and walked me home.

my mother got really angry with him, and never let him take me out alone again. she was concerned that his growing inability to keep up with the world around him was a dangerous problem to both him and her child.

so this all made me think: this man no doubt has a family. they'll probably never know that he almost got trapped in the subway doors this afternoon. he'll come home and who knows if he'll even be able to explain it to him. they'll think he'll still be capable of travelling alone and only strangers will be there to help him when something happens, and maybe it'll be too late.

as my stop came near, i could see the old man getting up to exit the train. he was standing at the wrong side of the car, so he'd have to turn around when we arrived at the stop. i kept a close eye on him, and made sure he got out ok, which he did, but slowly.

i hope he has someone to watch out for him when it gets really hard for him to move.

THE BIG PHASE SHIFT

as this summer moves forward with tremendous speed, i continue to look behind me. why do i do that? it's not easy to foget the past, especially when you're not 100% comfortable with your new living experience. don't get me wrong, life is good, and i hate talkin like a bitch. but i find myself real tired all the time. i think i'm still recovering from the crazy year i had. add to that the sensroy overload one goes through day in day out in the big city, and you've got one tired stevos.

should i be worried? i mean, it really affects my attitudes towards life, which are becoming more erratic than they've been before. i often say that i'm "emotionally neutral", but in this state i feel like shit half the time. i feel terribly undermotivated, unenthusiastic and overly pessimistic about everything. i worry about a whole slew of things that are so far beyond my control that they ain't worth fussin over, like the the future. and then there's those things i shouldn't worry about, like appearance and social mobility and all that bullshit toronto stuff that any level headed person, myself included, knows is bullshit. but i worry about those things too, irrationally.

i sleep plenty, i eat fine, i get a bit of exercise here and there...what's missing? i dunno...CFRC...a girlfriend...a band...the vast majority of the people i know...

but those parts of my life are distant from my present. they've long since left my grasp.

i suppose it's an adjustment thing. i guess i have to find something that makes me feel useful again. and i have to find some scene that i can be a part of. these things will take time.

perhaps my biggest problems are impatience and nostalgia. all i think about are the past and the future. for once in my life i've forgotten how to get get stuck in the present, and somehow, i'll relearn this in due time.