RUDIMENTS, pt. 220
Making Cars
Start from zero. That became my
motto. Nowadays maybe it's called
're-synch'. Setting things back, to a
previous point. It's always invigorating
to get a second go at things - if you
can bring yourself back to zero, to
some state before 'concepts' had
taken over.
-
Doing that affords great opportunities.
For me, thinking back now, I'd guess
I've had a few of those already. (I use
here the word 'already' as if my life
still has a long part of its continuum to
run; which I'd hope for, yes, but which
I probably doubt. Aging like this, the
factuality that the rope is running out
and the end being nigh, is not a grand
thought but it offers no other solace
than a good 'completion,' with love,
concern, helpfulness, and peace).
My initial 're-synch' of course was
awakening back to life after the
train wreck. I wasn't Frankenstein.
I never found any bolts in my head
I remained pretty normal, except that
my starting point having been given
a new zero, was beginning in 1958,
with a clear view - of new things.
I sort of saw differently; and even
as I re-entered elementary school
there was a part of me already at
work re-defining the whole world.
My little kid friends too. I did
baseball and Little league, as best
I could, mostly happily playing
while daydreaming in the field as well.
I never played an 'active' position,
like second base or anything. In,
again, my most extreme fashion, I
was either out in the languid expanse
of the outfield, or behind the plate
somehow as a catcher. That was fun
because everything activated from
there, the interaction with the pitcher,
the sideline coaches, and the other
players along the infield. Not a dull
moment in that position. But that all
ended too, one Saturday morning when
I leaned in too close catching a pitch
and got, instead, the swing of the bat
on the back of my helmetless head.
Out cold. The was the end of a great
catching career for me.
-
I did used to love those games though.
I'd take my bicycle out through Avenel
Park when there was a gravel pathway
running all the way out to St. George
Ave., (all apartments now, for years).
There was a pond, and a marsh along
the way - Spring morning stops -
frogs and newts, skunk cabbage and
marsh grasses and reeds. All that stuff
was amazing; I'd watch as it grew and
spread, twice a week (there were also
weekday-evening games). The little
green tendrils, curling open, widening
to fullness, and growing so that by the
beginning of June the entire place bore
no resemblance to what it had looked
like in April. A complete greening and
reforestation. As if Nature itself, having
re-synched, I realize now, to its own
new 'zero,' was forging ahead with its
new beginning.
-
The year I got to the seminary, late
Summer '62, I guess it was, everything
was brought back to zero for me. I knew
not what to expect - I hardly knew
where I was. Suddenly, things were
different, and quiet. Sand on the ground,
instead of dirt. Farm animals, agri-tasks,
tractors and pigs. Communal living in
a barracks-like format. Strict schedules,
for silence, for eating, for being at the
appointed places. I'd known nothing of
this before. Previously, my own anarchic
world was ruled by kids, living as kids.
This was different. A new cloak, and
a new dagger too. As I related in the
previous chapter, the discovery of a
drama department and operation there
really saved it all for me. Otherwise
it was pretty hum-drum. The day
Kennedy was shot, I remember,
that afternoon, being in a library
soft chair, reading or wiling away
the time, and a priest came in and made
the announcement and said for us all
to get on our knees as he began a
prayer recitation - while in the
meantime the President died. Then
it just switched to sorrow and
mourning - never a word about the
failed prayers. Were we at fault?
-
Years later, two of those guys actually
became real actors, with careers and
TV and movies and all. A few times,
in the 1980's, long after all this, I went
to visit them, separately, in NYC. One
guy lived in Brooklyn, did a few small
films, to which I went to see, in Soho,
and then he did a lot of decent play-work,
with the Lion Theater Company, NYC.
Later he moved to England, got a
career going there, and stayed. The
other guy, dead now, as of last year,
was a regular lead on an ABC-TV soap
opera called 'All My Children' - for
years. An entire career, plus two
'Airplane' movies - big goofy hits.
So, you see, you never can tell. That
old re-synch can hit in anytime and just
throw you forward, or backward, or
sideways too, I guess. Like a History
teacher, discovering Dante, and then
becoming a poet at mid-life. I always
wished I had those chances. I never
really did, because each of my zero-
re-synchs always kept me still centered
on the driving center-goal of my life,
which was to create and to communicate.
I can't really do anything else; it's all
I can do to breath and take a break.
Never getting those moments to off,
I always have to keep listening and
noting, watching the movement of
the messages to my head. My own
Drama Dept. : Shadow plays
behind the curtains of my mind.
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