I realize that today is a mountain of posts from Paul day, but I promise the rest of the week will be far more sedate. I had a great time catching up with some of the most important people in my young life, and was pleased beyond measure to find them all doing extremely well. You guys know who you are, and it was an honor and a joy to see you again. But really, I ranged pretty far and wide on this trip to Doo Dah. And for some reason this time around, I learned something about the word nostalgia. I, like so many people, often interpreted that word as some hazy sort of soft and fuzzy emotion...one that generally evoked feelings of wistfulness. I, like so many people, was terribly wrong. Nostalgia...is a hot, live electrical wire that runs through your navel and wraps around your spine. And I felt it jerking and tingling for almost two solid days as I drove and walked and remembered along almost every single haunt of my youth. I ran my fingertips along hot concrete where Id left the skin and blood of my knees as a sacrifice to the gods of youth and bicycles. The asphalt outside certain establishments still carried the rich, coppery tang of the blood that came from busted lips and knuckles. There is a dangerous fog bank that exists along the Lincoln curve. You know where and what that is, and if you dont you dont really need to worry too much about it. But it pops up unexpectedly and causes your vision to swim, and suddenly youre not driving the car youre in. Youre in that old beater, the engine throbbing and the suspension swaying as the tires moan out their discomfort at how hard they have to grip the pavement and that youre taking those turns just too damn fast for a 16 year old. There is a tile you can stand on in Towne East Square...I wont tell you which one, because you have to find it for yourself, that will also make you a teenager. Youll know youve found it when you can see the wood of the old Applegates Landing over there by Penneys. And hear the sounds of laughter from the Farrells Ice Cream parlor. I heard the distant splashing of a ghostly waterfall near the food court, but you might not. Avoid driving down either Tara or Longford streets. Youll be seized with the urge to park, and jog - certain that if you dont hurry therell be a jug waiting for you for tardiness if Mr. Carney catches you. And he wont care about your excuses. I saw a group of laughing teenaged girls, and for a moment their hair became bigger. But I blinked too soon and they vanished. And so there I stood, like some stroke victim, Im sure. A small and confused look on my face and over and over in my head came the whisper, Where has all the time gone? It came back as I drove past the Rockwell Branch library off of Edgemoor. Turning around in a parking lot, the Knollas pizza sign took me by surprise and for a moment, I was certain that I was on a different part of Central...or was it 13th street...or...damn...I cant see with all this snow covering the hood of my truck, and Eric Klein shouting about how were ALL GONNA DIE if I dont slow down... And why am I standing with my face pressed against the glass of the front doors? If I raise my hands and cup them around my eyes, I could probably see better...where Kevin Tones is striding along purposefully, a huge pile of books heaped under his arm and a pencil behind one ear through the round, probably headed for lunch. I turn around, certain Ive heard something, but its just Jeff Nogy, popping open a can of Coke and grinning at me. Hey, Green One, he nods and drifts around a corner. I follow...but hes already gone. In his place is a crowd of plaid short skirts and white tops. The scuff of boaters and boots on the ground, and the shouts and laughs of youth that know theyre about to make Summer their kingdom. I turn away from the empty blacktop, start my car and tap on my music. Out of the blue, the iPhone chooses The Talking Heads. Once in a Lifetime. Good song. Its a long drive home. I hope you all make it.
Posted on: Mon, 07 Jul 2014 00:37:08 +0000
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