(no subject)
The man sitting next to me at the Columbus Public Library is so gay he reminds me of unicorns farting rainbows. And to make matters worse, he’s snacking out of a little bag of Cheez-Its brand cheese crackers and I swear to Margaret that bag is made of death and gunfire. It is the loudest snack food I have ever heard in my entire life-and I’m a big fan of the snack foods.
The following is a list of things I’d casually, over the last 20 years, forgotten about Ohio. They are in no particular order.
Bugs/Spiders. Where in the Holiest of Hells do all these little annoying creatures come from??!! I have never seen more legs in my life. Standing on the front porch at night, trying in vain to catch a moment of peace as I enjoy the day’s final cigarette, I’m bombarded from above with thirteen different kinds of moths, I’m slowly being wrapped in spider webs that seemingly string from every sturdy surface to the next, the gnats and flies and other winged beasties buzz about my head like I’m made entirely from fresh cow shit, and the ants, worms, beetles and other sundried ground dwellers play about my feet like I’m the only insectoid entertainment center in the Midwest.
And the noise these critters make… Seriously, one can complain about the sounds of the city: traffic, sirens, shouting homeless maniacs, but nothing compares to the constant, voluble drone of the country cricket. These things NEVER shut up. The buzz is your constant companion. And it’s not some quiet chirping in the background. These things require you to shout conversation. And they put Dolby surround sound to shame because they are EVERYWHERE! Above you, below you, behind you, around you, in front of you… It is an invisible wall of sound that accompanies you everywhere you go. Thank Margaret this isn’t one of the “on” years for the cicada, either. Because you add in that unique biological chainsaw and it’s enough to send one over the edge.
Allergies. Since I arrived in Ohio approximately 7 days ago, the constant, low-grade itch that has busied itself about my person has never faltered. My throat itches, my eyes itch, my skin itches, my feet itch… I have been popping Claritin like candy and nothing helps. I’m hoping that eventually the first freezes of winter will take some of these microbial miscreants out of the air but I’m afraid that hallowed event is a good 60-90 days away. I may go insane before the first freeze of autumn gets here.
Opossum. What the fuck are these things and when did they lose all fear of humans??!! I’m standing on the porch smoking the last two nights, dodging the kamikaze moths from the air and the myriad spiderwebs from absolutely everyplace else, and I look down the front porch steps to see this hollow-eyed creature from the underworld, pointy, hairless snout raised contemptuously in my direction, staring vacuously at me, wondering when the hell did I become part of his nightly neighborhood rounds? I wish I’d had the camera ready at the time because the next night, he didn’t so much as give me a second glance but went right on with his evening habituations. Later on, I saw at least one other of the cursed things roaming the lot across the street. They’re everywhere.
Helicopters. Mind you, I was living two blocks from the Hudson River Helipad and I don’t remember this kind of helicopter traffic. At one point in this last week, I swear there were three different helicopters essentially just hovering over the neighborhood. We do live between several “important” local hospitals, and apparently the police in Columbus get great mileage out of chasing potential criminals down from the air, but you can’t swing a dead opossum around here and not hit some form of helicopter traffic. Between the drone of the crickets, the roar of the cicada and the thrumming of the helicopters, I feel like I’m living inside the percussion section of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. It’s maddening.
Space. Everything in Ohio is as far away from everything else in Ohio as possible. Where 40 square blocks in midtown Manhattan accounts for something like one-fifth of the total economic output of the United States, 40 square blocks of Columbus accounts for something like one-fifth of the total land mass of the United States. This place is BIG. And you can’t really appreciate how big it actually is until you try to walk it. Five miles in New York City is the difference between Queens and Jersey-no small matter. Five miles in Columbus is like five blocks in NYC. Nobody thinks twice about it. And everyone drives everywhere. Need to return rented DVDs to the Blockbuster down the street? Drive there. Want to grab a quick McDonald’s snack around the corner? Drive there. Want to work out at the gym 8 blocks away? Drive there. Not having a car in this society is like not having an iron lung in the Polio Ward: you must have one to survive. The new calendar for Ohio now lists Driver’s License and vehicle procurement at the top of the list, shortly followed thereafter by job and income. It’s a strange world, but I now call it home. *******************************************************
That’s it for now. One medium coffee and two different types of pumpkin bar later, I’m going to post this entry and head back home. My sister is going to pick me up when she gets off from work so we can go shopping to replace Mom’s washing machine that recently gave up the ghost. This will be the third washing machine we’ve put in her apartment thinking there’s no way the woman can outlive a major appliance. The joke continues to be on us.
Hope everyone is weathering summer well. I’m officially ready for the muted fire smells and golden reds of autumn. Hopefully, they’ll not keep me waiting for long.