I woke up this morning thinking about time, or the lack thereof. No, not time in the ” I can’t get things done” sense. More like time in the “this won’t happen” sense. More of a existential view. There is a cruel irony as one gets older, at least for me. Minutes can take hours and years, mere months. As I greeted my therapist the other day we made small talk. She couldn’t believe it was already February. I was flummoxed by it being 2019. I told her that the passage of time accelerates in proportion to how long we have lived. The older the faster. She said she had never thought of it that way. She is 28. My contemporaries are thinking, “Thanks, Captain Obvious”. She will see. Life is like vacations. You get your two weeks off, go to Mexico and for a couple of days float aimlessly in the pool with the time flowing nice and orderly, predictably. You’re thinking, “I should go to Isla Mujeres. I hear the snorkling’s great”. Then you slip off your raft, swim to the bar and have another pina colada thinking “tomorrow”. Next thing you know you’re packing your bags, tossing the brochures and Isla Mujeres is on the top of the pile mocking you. “Damn!”.
So what does this have to do with trailers? Nothing, other than adding a modicum of urgency to my efforts. Here is what my laser-like focus has produced over the last week or so.