3.02 - Ah, Wilderness!
Sunday morning the alarm woke me up at 6:30 and I dutifully shut it off. Easter or no Easter, I was tired. My mom roused me again at 7:00 and I stumbled into the shower, got dressed in the normal black suit, this time with gray shirt and another diamond pattern tie I picked up before going to New York.
We went to church and I decided that from now on, I’m going to be less than a submarine protestant, the sort who surfaces only at Christmas and Easter. Every single person there sang and spoke with a melancholy inflection and even on the most joyous of Christian holidays, the room was stiff as a freshman watching cheerleaders. It just kept going. And when our ambitious music director led the congregation in a four part Hallelujiah chorus, every woman over sixty decided she was a soprano, treating me to a shrill, bloodcurdling rendition of a beautiful piece of music. I just laughed quietly to myself, muttering something like “Never again.”
After church, we came home and grabbed my siblings. They’d been wise enough to stay home and I was a little steamed. We did the family trip thing on our drive up to Aunt Carol’s, my mother’s sister and my closest relative outside my immediate family. I did my best to sleep it off, having put the “O” is for Outlaw book-on-tape for the family. God, I love Kinsey Millhone. Captivating, yet quiet.
Nearing Ligonier, my mom gave me the directions and I navigated us to Aunt Carol and Uncle Bill’s new house they’ve been working on for over a year. It’s an ambitious project, but when it’s done, will be well worth it. The view from the Great Room alone is breathtaking, looking down over the valley between the trees. It’s hard not to want to move out into the middle of nowhere at times like that. ‘Cept I already live in the middle of nowhere, albeit somewhat more civlized.
I visited with Aunt Carol, Grandma, a cadre of relatives who remembered me from when I was this tall, and a few other friends of Uncle Bill’s. Late afternoon, I went with my nine-year-old cousin, Jaclyn “Jackie”, to play softball. She’s been psyched about it and my siblings were too busy playing with her toys to be bothered. So I pretended to be able to pitch and bat. Her dog, Sky, was the catcher. Only problem with a canine catcher, they don’t like to give up the ball real easy, and after that it gets slobbery. A few of Jackie’s squealing pals came up the road from the house as they arrived, and since they were much more athletically militant, I went back inside and ate food.
We talked and laughed and went around doing random things for the rest of the night. I had to call James when I found out that ABC and by proxy, Alias, wasn’t available in the wilderness. He assured me he’d tape it and I smiled after hanging up, realizing there was an actual use for the physics phone tree. The only other feasible use would be calling up young ladies for romantic engagements. But that’s a bit of a stretch as of now.
We stayed overnight and I slept in the back of the car, listening to Back Story read by Joe Mantegna while falling asleep. I slept well, deep and dreamless. There in the wilderness.
I woke up the next morning long enough to drink some Mt. Dew Livewire and say good-bye to the family. I got home early afternoon and after a shower and eating, felt slightly human again. I just have a few matters to take care of this afternoon, before working on school stuff and then I intend to clean up the mess in my room and go to sleep.
Family is a fickle friend. I can remember times when I’ve wanted to kill them and conversely, kill for them. The connection is muddled anyway and at times I wish I were much more independent and solitary than I am. But I’m not. I am irrevocably tethered to a clan of crazy people. I fit right in.
Respectfully Submitted,
Art “The Brain”
We went to church and I decided that from now on, I’m going to be less than a submarine protestant, the sort who surfaces only at Christmas and Easter. Every single person there sang and spoke with a melancholy inflection and even on the most joyous of Christian holidays, the room was stiff as a freshman watching cheerleaders. It just kept going. And when our ambitious music director led the congregation in a four part Hallelujiah chorus, every woman over sixty decided she was a soprano, treating me to a shrill, bloodcurdling rendition of a beautiful piece of music. I just laughed quietly to myself, muttering something like “Never again.”
After church, we came home and grabbed my siblings. They’d been wise enough to stay home and I was a little steamed. We did the family trip thing on our drive up to Aunt Carol’s, my mother’s sister and my closest relative outside my immediate family. I did my best to sleep it off, having put the “O” is for Outlaw book-on-tape for the family. God, I love Kinsey Millhone. Captivating, yet quiet.
Nearing Ligonier, my mom gave me the directions and I navigated us to Aunt Carol and Uncle Bill’s new house they’ve been working on for over a year. It’s an ambitious project, but when it’s done, will be well worth it. The view from the Great Room alone is breathtaking, looking down over the valley between the trees. It’s hard not to want to move out into the middle of nowhere at times like that. ‘Cept I already live in the middle of nowhere, albeit somewhat more civlized.
I visited with Aunt Carol, Grandma, a cadre of relatives who remembered me from when I was this tall, and a few other friends of Uncle Bill’s. Late afternoon, I went with my nine-year-old cousin, Jaclyn “Jackie”, to play softball. She’s been psyched about it and my siblings were too busy playing with her toys to be bothered. So I pretended to be able to pitch and bat. Her dog, Sky, was the catcher. Only problem with a canine catcher, they don’t like to give up the ball real easy, and after that it gets slobbery. A few of Jackie’s squealing pals came up the road from the house as they arrived, and since they were much more athletically militant, I went back inside and ate food.
We talked and laughed and went around doing random things for the rest of the night. I had to call James when I found out that ABC and by proxy, Alias, wasn’t available in the wilderness. He assured me he’d tape it and I smiled after hanging up, realizing there was an actual use for the physics phone tree. The only other feasible use would be calling up young ladies for romantic engagements. But that’s a bit of a stretch as of now.
We stayed overnight and I slept in the back of the car, listening to Back Story read by Joe Mantegna while falling asleep. I slept well, deep and dreamless. There in the wilderness.
I woke up the next morning long enough to drink some Mt. Dew Livewire and say good-bye to the family. I got home early afternoon and after a shower and eating, felt slightly human again. I just have a few matters to take care of this afternoon, before working on school stuff and then I intend to clean up the mess in my room and go to sleep.
Family is a fickle friend. I can remember times when I’ve wanted to kill them and conversely, kill for them. The connection is muddled anyway and at times I wish I were much more independent and solitary than I am. But I’m not. I am irrevocably tethered to a clan of crazy people. I fit right in.
Respectfully Submitted,
Art “The Brain”