1969 And Life In The City / The Who Come To Town
Table of contents for 8/Writing
- Mr. Spock Did Not Complain
- Cropping Photos / An Important Part Of The Picture
- Sunday Morning Acclimations / Sploofus Win / February Triva Questions
- Juno Revisited / StumbleUpon Employee Resigns
- 1969 And Life In The City / The Who Come To Town
I sit in a second floor room of a very large, old house on Babcock Street near Commonwealth Avenue in Boston, Massachusetts. Sounds drift through the open window as I attempt to memorize various parts of the human body. It would be much easier to do this if these parts were attached to the wonderful Cathy. My love of the moment is somewhere out there and probably close to the source of the sounds that penetrate my wandering mind.
The Who is playing over on Nickerson Field where Boston University’s football team attempts to win games on a man made surface. I attend those games because I play the saxophone in the band. But The Who is beyond my limited budget at the moment and I do need to study. Cathy has been a terrible distraction lately and now I must suffer the consequences of chasing after her beautiful mirage as it shimmers before me.
Because clearly she is not committed to this relationship. Right at this moment she is probably driving down Commonwealth Avenue in her 1968 Oldsmobile Cutlass convertible with the horn rimmed guy from the business school. I saw them the other day while walking in front of March Chapel. His head was barely sticking above the steering wheel but she didn’t seem to notice that he couldn’t see the road.
But I noticed the dwarfish fellow and it brought about a case of the dismal mood swings. Violent jealousy fought it out with depressed resignation over the whole affair. Neither seems to have the upper hand at the moment. I am stumbling forward as I attempt to make sense of this relationship.
So I sit here in this room while my crazy landlady with the ankles that are bigger than my thighs rummages around downstairs and talks to Madame Blavatsky while attempting to keep herself oriented to time and date. I must study.
I have no idea that I will regret my entire life not going to see The Who and letting myself rock off into a crowd induced euphoria. As it turns out everyone in this class will get a P for Pass because the professor talks about antiwar activities and encourages us all to demonstrate after class. He is undoubtedly a communist and so we must all pass and become successful graduates. For what purpose?
Who knows. There are so many things I do not know. My wonderful Cathy for example will have a most horrific moment and I will be a part of it. She will be sent to the floor as she screams in horror. She has the most wonderful laugh I have ever heard but she can also scream when she has been hurt most terribly.
But that event is down the road and for now she is most likely enjoying her business school bunny as he hops around doing her bidding. No doubt she is teaching him things I do not want to think about at this moment.
The breeze flutters the curtains and I turn back to the books. Downstairs my Theosophically inclined landlady is now playing the grand piano with great abandon. Thankfully she allows me to keep a few beers in her ancient refrigerator. It was part of a deal we made in the opening rounds. Beer is allowed but I can only have guys in my room.
No girls allowed. The gay guy who rents the next room and is a music school major thinks this is hilarious. But I am not so amused. Something must be done about my sad situation.
And hers too. She does not deserve to meet this monster who is tracking her to her door. We are on a tight schedule. Because now that I am old and looking down from above I can see the time coming when we will leave our youthful follies behind. We will proceed on our separate ways to adulthood because we feel we must.
Roger Daltrey starts screaming through my window. He disagrees with my assessment and pulls on my heart. I pull back and turn the page.
(to be continued)
More Writing
http://davidnotes.com/2008/02/12/vote-for-your-favorite-candidate-in-virginia/
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4 responses so far
Very nicely written David. It has a flow that pulled me all the way through the story. I’ll be back for the rest…
Czecho’s last blog post..East Timor: Still Struggling After All These Years…
Thanks very much Czecho.
[...] shares 1969 And Life In The City / The Who Come To Town from Virginia Breeze, his memoir about the 1960’s and college [...]
Hi David:
Thanks for participating in this week’s edition of The Seventh Day, the blog carnival hosted each Sunday On the Horizon!
That was fabulous. I could hear Roger Daltry singing and see that Olds Cutlass as I read . . .
The Seventh Day: Eighth Edition is now live, so I hope you will stop by & pay a visit to some of the other participants’ sites. There were a number of fabulous posts contributed this week!
Blessings to you,
Hopeful Spirit
On the Horizon
Hopeful Spirit’s last blog post..The Seventh Day: Eighth Edition