Midnight Ramblings
It was, in actuality, well past midnight before I headed out. I had just finished watching the film "Shine" for a second time, it was a warm and muggy night, and I was restless and unable to sleep. Perhaps influenced by the film, I also felt the need for a creative outlet, with or without the attendant madness. I took a pen and a small pad of paper and walked out my front door around 1:30am.
I walked a direct route, from my home down Hedding Street to the intersection of Hedding and the Alameda. A quick on-line map search tells me that the distance comes to 1.48 miles, essentially a three mile walk round trip. I traveled slowly, listening to my footsteps in a silence otherwise broken only by the occasional passing car. A small sign was posted on a lamp post near First Street, by someone searching for a missing dog. The paper included a blurry photograph, the description given was that the dog in question was "medium or large" with brown fur. Incongruously, it was also noted that the dog had a purple tongue. The plea was repeated below in Spanish, "Perdido"...lost.
I stopped for a few seconds at a well lit and covered bus stop in front of the California National Guard armory, 185th Quartermaster Battalion. On the lawn of the armory, in fact aimed directly towards the bus stop, is a small antique artillery piece. The muzzle has been capped, and on this plug someone had painted an inverted peace sign. The armory lies across the street from the County Offices, adjacent to which is the County Jail and San Jose Police Station. Thus surrounded by three vital organs of the government, the military, the bureaucracy, and law enforcement, one feels the presence of the State is almost oppressively tangible on Hedding Street.
Continuing, I walked under the newly constructed overpass for Highway 87, which now bypasses my Street, forcing me to travel an additional two whole blocks to Taylor to get on the freeway. This portion of the street is lined with several new construction projects. In front of one of these is a short fence, covered with black cloth. An unknown artist painted a monochromatic mural along the length of the cloth, consisting of several simply sketched and stylized bicycles in white paint. Although anonymous, the work is actually signed. Printed at the far end of the row of bicycles in cursive text is the moniker "One Sad Sailor" surrounded on either side by painted anchors.
Nearby, in the gutter, I saw a thin booklet, and picked it up. The booklet was printed with the badge insignia of the County Jailhouse on the cover, and entitled "Inmate Orientation and Rulebook." The short tome contains a well ordered and uncritical description of daily life within the Jail, rules of conduct, schedules, and the like. Although laying in the street and curled in on itself, the booklet was relatively clean, and I decided to keep it. Thus the following scenario ran through my mind: What if I meet some great girl, and she eventually ends up back at my place, comes across this booklet, and becomes convinced that contrary to impressions and my self description, I am in fact an ex-con? Well, perhaps she'll be be the type who goes for bad boys...
Making my way up the large overpass across the train tracks, I came upon another odd painted sign, this time on the concrete sidewalk. A large white "X" luminescent beneath the street lamp, outlined in black. My shadow, grossly forshortended by the lamplight, lay across the x with a menacing foreboding.
Descending the other side of the overpass one can view Bellarmine College Preparatory, a males only Catholic high school. Although I was slightly acquainted with one Bellarmine student during high school, I never knew anything about this institution aside from a short rhyming ditty about its students, which makes predictions regarding the school's effect on their future sexual orientation. Mysteriously, although it was late August, and after two in the morning, the faculty parking lot was more than half full. Was this some wild late night faculty party? A secret ritual of Opus Dei? Or do Bellarime faculty live on-campus? The truth may never be known.
I reached the intersection of Hedding and The Alameda just before 2:30am, crossed the street, then crossed it back again on the other side. The return trip was largely uneventful. Now, I hope sleep will be soon in coming.
I walked a direct route, from my home down Hedding Street to the intersection of Hedding and the Alameda. A quick on-line map search tells me that the distance comes to 1.48 miles, essentially a three mile walk round trip. I traveled slowly, listening to my footsteps in a silence otherwise broken only by the occasional passing car. A small sign was posted on a lamp post near First Street, by someone searching for a missing dog. The paper included a blurry photograph, the description given was that the dog in question was "medium or large" with brown fur. Incongruously, it was also noted that the dog had a purple tongue. The plea was repeated below in Spanish, "Perdido"...lost.
I stopped for a few seconds at a well lit and covered bus stop in front of the California National Guard armory, 185th Quartermaster Battalion. On the lawn of the armory, in fact aimed directly towards the bus stop, is a small antique artillery piece. The muzzle has been capped, and on this plug someone had painted an inverted peace sign. The armory lies across the street from the County Offices, adjacent to which is the County Jail and San Jose Police Station. Thus surrounded by three vital organs of the government, the military, the bureaucracy, and law enforcement, one feels the presence of the State is almost oppressively tangible on Hedding Street.
Continuing, I walked under the newly constructed overpass for Highway 87, which now bypasses my Street, forcing me to travel an additional two whole blocks to Taylor to get on the freeway. This portion of the street is lined with several new construction projects. In front of one of these is a short fence, covered with black cloth. An unknown artist painted a monochromatic mural along the length of the cloth, consisting of several simply sketched and stylized bicycles in white paint. Although anonymous, the work is actually signed. Printed at the far end of the row of bicycles in cursive text is the moniker "One Sad Sailor" surrounded on either side by painted anchors.
Nearby, in the gutter, I saw a thin booklet, and picked it up. The booklet was printed with the badge insignia of the County Jailhouse on the cover, and entitled "Inmate Orientation and Rulebook." The short tome contains a well ordered and uncritical description of daily life within the Jail, rules of conduct, schedules, and the like. Although laying in the street and curled in on itself, the booklet was relatively clean, and I decided to keep it. Thus the following scenario ran through my mind: What if I meet some great girl, and she eventually ends up back at my place, comes across this booklet, and becomes convinced that contrary to impressions and my self description, I am in fact an ex-con? Well, perhaps she'll be be the type who goes for bad boys...
Making my way up the large overpass across the train tracks, I came upon another odd painted sign, this time on the concrete sidewalk. A large white "X" luminescent beneath the street lamp, outlined in black. My shadow, grossly forshortended by the lamplight, lay across the x with a menacing foreboding.
Descending the other side of the overpass one can view Bellarmine College Preparatory, a males only Catholic high school. Although I was slightly acquainted with one Bellarmine student during high school, I never knew anything about this institution aside from a short rhyming ditty about its students, which makes predictions regarding the school's effect on their future sexual orientation. Mysteriously, although it was late August, and after two in the morning, the faculty parking lot was more than half full. Was this some wild late night faculty party? A secret ritual of Opus Dei? Or do Bellarime faculty live on-campus? The truth may never be known.
I reached the intersection of Hedding and The Alameda just before 2:30am, crossed the street, then crossed it back again on the other side. The return trip was largely uneventful. Now, I hope sleep will be soon in coming.