The ten- dollar time machine

[coyotegoth]

"...and so we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
-F. Scott Fitzgerald,
The Great Gatsby

Wow- I was nearly in tears today, and that's none too damn common. Okay- I cried two weeks ago... but that was over the death of Chester Lord Buttley, the cat who transformed me from cat-hater to cat- lover by the sheer power of his own personal coolosity. That stinking, spoiled, diabetic beast- I miss him every day. Besides, Lynn was crying too-and she cries even less than I do. But I digress...

Woke up today with the thought that I'm crawling back to the salt mines tomorrow well in the forefront of my mind- clearly, this would not do. Searched around for a means of distracting myself; as Lynn and I had been talking about SUNY Purchase the other day (we met there in- oh, God- 1987), I decided a trip to the old alma mater might be in order. Little did I know, as they say, what lay in store...

Off the Grand Central (Lynn, that poopy pants, had made other plans); round trip ticket to White Plains. Fine. No bus; grab a cab. Smile briefly, as I remember how terrified I was, the first- second, really- time I headed into the City on a freshman hall bonding thing- this was back when Sal Piro was still doing Rocky Horror at the Midnight show, Y'understand... anyhoo. Smile, as we drive by the Cobble Stone restaurant (overpriced tourist dive though it was; walked by it hundreds of times; ate there all of once), then... there it was. The "welcome to SUNY Purchase" sign...

...and the years fell away. 1987. Me, a scared teenager, packed down with far too much stuff (even brought a bike, which I rode maybe twice), looking at my first time away from home. Keeping busy, so I don't freak out. *shakes head* Walked to the parking lot of my old dorm, into the first nasty shock... the hill that overlooks our school, which used to be marred only by a mental institution (insert appropriate witty remark) is now a pre- fab hell, dotted with... oh, God... low- cost housing. Whores.

For no reason I could se, the Great Lawn was torn up (supposedly something about fixing the heating); that entire part of the campus is segregated with lots of chain- link fence and deep, scary holes. Ick. Somewhat more happily, the huge Henry Moore on the mall is still its huge bronze dog-turd self (nothing personal, Henry)- sat on it, and even contemplated climbing it- what else is medical insurance for? Alas, no.

Swung my the liberal arts building where I pimped my ass for the last two years of college, in exchange for a Barely Average degree; then, over to my true alma mater- the film department. This being finals season, people were hard at work editing (no freshman in sight- or at least, no 8 mm gear). One nice guy (didn't catch his name) was good enough to tell me that Tom has left (alas), and Jon hasn't (ditto). Much to my glee, his class successfully petitioned to have Bob NOT teach them Narrative; glad it worked better than when our class tried it Bob's first year, in 1990. One hopes Bob didn't get told who started the petition THIS time *shudders*... but that is a long, and ugly, story for another time.

To the library, to watch Svensk Filmindustri's finest- The Seventh Seal. A film with a moral: when you're in the middle of a chess game with death, never, EVER tell ANYONE your strategy! I mean it!!!

*Ahem* Yes... well. Strolled around the campus for a while, shaking my head at this and that; smile to see the evidence of left- wing politics that's always been a Purchase hallmark (pro- abortion sloganeering; rainbow decals; "Fight the Radical Right" stickers ... ah, yes.). Chuckle at the sites of mischief gone by... which, inevitably, led me back to my old dorm, E-F. I couldn't get in, of course- campus security is not likely to smile at the sight of a shaven- headed man in a black trenchcoat asking if me "can just wander around for a while"... no indeedy. Instead, I just looked at the building, and let the memories wash over me:

The fire- extinguisher hall fights...

The endless late- night rap sessions, and my introduction to Chinese food...

Room 228-C, and my initiation into the most ancient of mysteries there, by one Julie Sanford. Ahh, Julie- where are you now? What did we think we were doing? Who did we think we were? *shakes head* I still don't believe how long it took me to get over that- my first real girlfriend though she was... and I, almost twenty. We said we loved each other, and meant it- whatever that meant. (It was around here that I was crying.) Ah, me... I wish I could talk to the boy I was then, who had far too little idea of who he was, and far too strong an idea of who he was not. Going to college, being immersed in that sea of humanity, was almost an acid trip for me, after my isolated upbringing- I'm glad things turned out as well as they did. Maybe I didn't become the next Orson Welles (not that he ended all that happily), but I did- despite myself- learn a lot about life, and love, and friendship. Lynn is probably my closest friend in the world now- and this, after TWICE thinking we'd never talk again... not too damn shabby. Hmm- this being an entry about journeys, I'll close with another quote, this one from Tolkien:

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And wither then? I cannot say.

-The Fellowship of the Ring

Comments

sadness

[ecola.livejournal.com]

You journal is way to sad. You should talk about happier stuff. Like the time you got your nuts caught in a blender or the time you dated this chick for 2 years and then found out she was a dude after you got married. Although, I think this stuff is only funny to me, you probably werent laughing as much.

ps. Are you gonna see the mummy returns?

ecola