Knight
While Becky is away for a few days, I’m on my own — I’m batchin’it as we used to say.
Batchin’ (v.) Living like a bachelor, usually used by married people or ones in serious relationships whose significant other is temporarily away.
My buddies and I would bach it whenever our significant others needed to leave us overnight to fend for ourselves. It was a pretty courageous thing for our spouses to do, now that I think back. Who knows what messes we might have gotten ourselves into? But I guess they figured they had to teach us how to behave on our own at some point in the marriage, right?
When we were out there on our own, we considered ourselves limited bachelors. Hanky-panky was not part of our batchin’ action. For us, batchin’ it meant the guys going to some bar to see a band and listen to loud music. Grab some beers. We would hang out like we did when we were single except without any effort to impress the non-significant others who might be in the joint.
We would sit at the bar or at a table, talk about interesting things, tell some stupid jokes and try to make hilarious remarks just like we did when we were youthful, unmarried goofballs. At least, we thought they were hilarious. And as the night flowed on, it seemed our witty repartee became even more hilarious.
Thinking about it, batchin’ back then seemed to me to be about freedom. Being on my own. No clocks. Emancipation from adulthood responsibilities. Those early batchin’ days are behind me now which is how it should be. And this long weekend without my significant other is ahead of me. It’s been a while and I began to wonder: What does batchin’ look like now? How do I even begin to batch at my age? Before the weekend ends, Maybe I’ll figure it out. At any rate, here we are. Let the batchin’ begin. Woo Hoo!
After I dropped my significant other off at the airport, I crowd onto the highway with no definite plans. See what comes along. Try to go with the flow which right now is crazy with the big truck traffic that is I-465. Head down I-65. Take the Franklin exit and stop at a favorite coffee shop for java and a blueberry muffin. No one to split it with, so I eat the whole thing. Whoa. Getting a sugar rush is such a bachelor thing to do. Now what?
Many moons ago, when I had free time, I would fill/kill time the classic American way: I would shop. Browse a book or music store. Well, I don’t really shop that much anymore, and I have had enough traffic, so I head for the home in the woods. Maybe batchin’ might have another meaning. Something not so crowded and loud.
I sit in a chair by the big window and pick up Dakota: A Spiritual Geography by Kathleen Norris on loan from Neighbor Sarah who thought I might like it. Becky and I were in the Dakotas over the summer and any book with “spiritual” in the title usually gets my attention.
As soon as I enter it, I realize it is one of those books that causes me to reach for my journal so I can jot down words and passages I want to hold onto. From the start, Norris captures the profound quiet that seems to permeate the windswept Dakotas. Becky and I both heard this quiet on our trip. I read slowly, take notes, sit quietly, then read some more. The afternoon passes with only the clock chimes breaking the silence. At some point I think, “Maybe this is batchin’ it.” Woo hoo.
It is getting dark. Time for food. I stand over the sink as I eat pickles from a jar. Such a bachelor thing to do. However, I also put my glass, fork and plate in the dishwasher instead of leaving them in the sink as someone batchin’ it might do.
Okay, maybe I have learned something.
Norman Knight, a retired Clark-Pleasant Middle School teacher, writes this weekly column for the Daily Journal. Send comments to [email protected].
