#6 BEEZWAX

By J.J. Colagrande


If I didn’t drive by a Volkswagen so obviously heading to the fest (camping gear, music stickers and the dead give away: hippies) I would’ve been in more trouble. With navigation, I breathed a sigh of  relief and found a place to make a U-ey–some little side road in the middle-of-nowhere. You really have to watch out for little side roads in the middle-of-nowhere. I literally drove into a freaking swarm of bugs and bees. Now I don’t like bees. They throw me off balance.  They rolled up in my dharma like some bad karma–shit—not consciously invited or anything. You know that phrase bug out? It personified me. I know, I know. Bees made honey and dealt in nectar, but their business was not my business. It stemmed from an old childhood memory I had of getting stung. Anyway, since I had the window down I freaked out because they were inside the car. Like I felt something on my lip and heard things in my ear. I totally bugged as I made the u-turn extra fast. I swerved off the side of the road for a second then leveled it out, accelerating even faster so whatever bugs were in the car could feel the vacuum of air and get sucked out of the window. It worked. I didn’t hear any more buzzing nor see any critters. Soon enough, I even located my Volkswagen navigation system and everything fell into place. Until the line to enter Camp Bisco. Now, if you knew me, you’d know I had a situational fear of waiting in line called macrophobia. The fear was completely irrational. It’s stupid. And it made me think of Las Vegas and that crazy Margarita girl. I won’t get into it, but let’s just say my macrophobia is stronger than my apiphobia, which should say something. Anyway, I waited five hours to get into Camp Bisco. Five hours, alone in a car. What a challenge. You know what, though? It afforded me time to deal with the macrophobia. It was all about time. A matter of time. Right about then it was about that time. And time after time, it was only time. KC taught me that, in her own way, reflected in the manner of her free spirited nature. She knew when it was time to act and time to chill. There was something extremely calming about KC’s determination and willpower. She’s stoic, even when she smiled and that girl’s stoicism calmed me. So I thought of KC, of seeing KC, of having the pleasure and honor of being able to actually kiss that Irish goddess named KC. And I meditated on time, sweet yet trying time, transient time, it was just a matter of time as it slowly melted away like a clock in a Dali.

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