Walking the Lonely Road

I walk a lonely road, the only one that I have ever known…  I enjoy Green Day’s music. One cannot help but move to the syncopated beat, and the lyrics resonate with those of us who have walked that lonely rood.

Boulevard of Broken Dreams captures my journey through life.  Where the city sleeps, and I'm the only one, and I walk alone… Sometimes the most profound loneliness is in the company of others; when I don’t share in their reverie, convictions or pursuits, amplifying the gulf between them and me.

On the first day of school in ninth grade, I earned the nickname “Kazook,” when the gym teacher mispronounced my name at rollcall.  It stuck immediately because of its similarity to Gazoo, the little green alien in The Flintstones, a caricature of me.

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me… Over the years, I have joined with others that are more like me.  My family is expanding beyond the lonely triplet of my parents --who were cut off from their family by the iron curtain -- and me.  Though my parents are gone, I have a wife, children, grandchildren, a son- and a daughter-in-law, all who accept me and even share in my oddities.  My daughter has coined the expression “physics spawn” for my offspring, who fondly accept my quirks and genetics.  My Old Timers ice hockey buddies accept me despite my poor level of play and odd manner, calling me “Q” – think Q-Continuum, quarks, the pronunciation of the start of my last name, an odd letter… -- another nickname that has taken hold.

I'm walking down the line, that divides me somewhere in my mind… My road is a lot less lonely now that I am surrounded by family and dear friends.  My 4-year old grandson’s teacher told my daughter that he sang Boulevard of Broken Dreams in front of the class, which is unusually bold for children his age.  He then proceeded to teach his audience the lyrics.  Now I have good company on that lonely road…