A Tribute To The Garage March 9, 2006

The garage is my safe house. When I'm not in the garage I find myself counting the hours until I will be back in it. I have my own chair in the garage. A white plastic chair that would normally be on the deck or in the yard; it has my name on it and it brings some comfort to me knowing that it's there waiting for me. The garage is safe because there is the unspoken rule of what is said in the garage, stays in the garage. The garage can be a place to party, but most of all it's a place where I go to escape the harsh reality of the real world. The garage is never cruel, it doesn't judge you, it doesn't leave you for it's ex. The garage is just there for you to go to. There is always the sound of laughter and great advice being given. The only thing you cannot hear in there is the sound of a heart breaking. There have been many broken hearts in the garage and I bet there will be many more. The garage holds you when you're dealing with that heart ache. It holds the promise of better days and you know you'll be back to them. Until then, the garage lets you be, lets you sit and think, with the haze of cigarette smoke and the little fridge of beer. No matter how bad things are, when you're in the garage, you're okay. It has a hold on you and it is always there. Through pain and happiness and sorrow and anger, the garage is there to hold your hand and let you feel how you want to feel. No judgement. If the walls of the garage could talk...