Slow down, you move too fast

Posted 8/21/12

Even though they say that “misery loves company,” I’m hopeful that most of you are not currently experiencing the kind of time-management angst that currently plagues me. I’m not even sure …

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Slow down, you move too fast

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Even though they say that “misery loves company,” I’m hopeful that most of you are not currently experiencing the kind of time-management angst that currently plagues me. I’m not even sure what my problem is, other than desiring to make hay while the sun shines. Here in the Upper Delaware River region, where each season determines how we live life, this seems to produce the tendency to want to seize the day, with the understanding that time is precious and we have limited hours to take advantage of sweet summer’s myriad opportunities, whether it be for business or pleasure. While I often acknowledge that I love what I do and how grateful I am to have those opportunities that come my way, lately I find that I’m not really savoring the moment, but rather keeping an eye on the time, concerned about how I’ll make the next appointment on my roster. The past week was a perfect (albeit unsettling) example of this notion and even as I write this, I’m frazzled.

I’m not looking for sympathy. No need for tiny violins to be played, since I hear them all the time. “Oh, you poor thing” has been said once or twice. “You have another concert to attend? Too many plays to see?” Comments from the proverbial peanut galley notwithstanding, my answer (truth be told) would be “yes,” and I’ll tell you why. I really wish I had more time to actually enjoy the ride. Oh, sure—on rare occasions, I stop, look and listen, but more often than not, instead of sitting back to be in the moment, I’m glancing at my watch, worrying that I don’t have the time to relax. “Like sands in the hourglass,” I think to myself as I take pictures and make notes, afraid that I won’t remember where I’ve been, much less where I’m going, as I jump into the truck and literally zoom off, checking my schedule, picturing Alice’s white rabbit in what’s left of my feeble brain. My desk is littered with notebooks and as I sort through them, it occurs to me that I would literally be lost without, since I’m frequently clueless as to where I’ve been. A quick glance serves as a reminder that last Thursday, I ran to the Forestburgh Playhouse (www.FBPlayhouse.org) to catch “My Fair Lady,” which is still playing. I loved it, and (if memory serves) I wrote a review the next morning, which can be read online at www.riverreporter.com.

I’m pretty sure I did something on Friday. Oh right, the Beatles tribute. As part of the year-long celebration of the Fab Four landing on American soil 50 years ago, the folks at Bethel Woods (www.bethelwoodscenter.org) have produced a series of events honoring the lads from Liverpool, and last week’s concert (www.raintribute.com) drew a small but appreciative crowd for the show titled RAIN. Until now, I was unaware of this production, which has been touring since the mid-‘70s and is described as a “live multi-media spectacular that takes you on a musical journey through the life and times of the world’s most celebrated band.” Although the show spans decades of the band’s vast anthology, beginning with “I Want to Hold Your Hand” and changing outfits to match the changing times, I never even took my seat, but chose instead to snap some photos and rush out, before the guys performed “Sgt. Pepper’s,” much less “Hey Jude.” The website touts this show as delivering a “note-for-note theatrical event,” and as I closed my eyes (for a brief, shining moment) I got it. The Beatle’s unmistakable sound was in the house, even though I was racing out of the place.

On Saturday, I was determined to take in the annual music festival in PA that draws thousands each year (www.honesdalerootsandrhythm.com), and I actually blocked out a few solid hours in which to enjoy—yet still felt cheated, since the event, which is (IMHO) an amazing community effort, has too much to offer for a headless chicken like myself. Again, a perfect opportunity to stop and smell the roses, but I never found the time to plant them last year, so found myself unable (unwilling?) to just sit back and chill, while the kids romped in the beautiful park, as musicians entertained throughout the day-long festival. In fact, I heard only one of the many bands that played. But having spent a few hours perusing the vendor’s booths and sampling the amazing food, I chatted with folks who make “Roots” a yearly destination, and photographed the crowd, which I’ll post on our social media page, (www.facebook.com/theriverreporter), if I can find a spare moment. While I’m not exactly “feelin’ groovy,” I‘d like to make the morning last, even with those pesky deeds to do and promises to keep. Is it all moving too fast for you, too? Why don’t we make a pact: Let’s slow down.

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