[Cadaverous Pallor]

The title The Great Outdoors triggered this memory for me. I may have mentioned this to some of you before...hell, I may have written a story on it before.

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I used to work at an insurance agency.

Exciting, I know. I worked my first real good "I'm an adult" job at a small family owned/operated place in Calabasas. They took a chance on a kid with no experience who was willing to take anything after working at a Chuck-E-Cheese type place.

For me, it was exciting. I breathed paper dust and covered paper cuts with more paper cuts. I read the manuals to the fax machine and copier and was the only one who could replace the toner and find those elusive paper jams. I put things that were in disarray into order - I was in on the meetings - my opinion was valued and I was treated rather equally, even though I was 19. I bathed in the florescent lights and the constantly ringing phones.

Yet after a morning of this, I sure could use some air.

Money was short and every penny saved went towards moving in with the love of my life. I’d bring homemade lunches or cans of soup and Rubbermaid dishes to warm it in. I’d chat with the old agents, acting like goofy kids making faces at each other in the small, friendly break room.

Eventually I’d wander my way outside. The roads in Calabasas wind around the hills and leave pockets of quiet, even though you’re always close to the 101 freeway. Yes, the air wasn’t perfect, but an LA child like myself takes little notice of that. I remember there were nice breezes though, breezes in the tree…

We had a tree. A tree in the middle of the parking lot, surrounded by a tiny oasis of grass. It was just enough to sit on and feel taken away from the pavement. The grass was well tended and always green and fresh. Out came the Peanuts blanket from my car, the one covered in Snoopy and Charlie Brown and Linus riding hot air balloons.

I’d sit under the tree and write in my journal. I’d write letters to my beloved, letters to other friends. I’d think. I’d lie down and stare up at the branches, waving in the breeze. I liked that perspective best, since all I could see was sky and tree, and I could be anywhere. I imagined myself in a park, or a field, or a nature preserve. I’d restrict my field of vision until I really believed I wasn’t in the center of a cement ocean any longer. I’d daydream and blink slowly and forget about paper cuts and toner.

I’d take naps. Dream of a day far beyond this. Or just dream of the coming weekend with lazy afternoons spent snuggling.

I’d wake to realize I was late, fold the blanket (damp from the grass) and toss it in the car, then jog back in to face data entry and relieving the receptionist. I welcomed the air-conditioning and sometimes remembered to comb my hair.

I’m glad it’s a moment like this that I remember clearly. A moment breathing fresh air and seeing animals in the clouds.

May we all find a small spot of grass in a cement ocean and daydream a moment away.