RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,245
(excelsior the gloriana)
All my life I've been stuck on
words. Never having a solution
to that paradox. Going back in
subject matter to Iselin Junior
High School, I can remember,
the one year I was there, having
a Science teacher - name, of
Miss Hardy, or Mrs., I recall
but that's all - and as she was
turning the class over to 'new'
subject matter, introducing to
us that we were to be studying
'Weather' for the next four or
five weeks, my elation at the
idea (realization) that it was
Weather...finally, and without
the 'h' as in the 'other' word,
'whether.' It was so stupid, but
that infused me with enthusiasm
enough that I wanted to stand
up - in front of the entire class,
and teacher - and expound
upon this. I did not, of course,
thinking they'd find me absolutely
and ingloriously 'nuts.' Any 7th
grader getting a wild-streak over
the spelling of, and inclusion or
removal of an 'h' in a word would
immediately be classed as a true
non-desirable in a tribe of hatchet
wielding troglodytes such as that
which was around me. Perhaps
even the thick-headed teacher
would have exiled me.
-
There were lots of things like that;
weird words like 'Doula' and 'charisma,
which stuck in my head. Halcyon too;
that word seemed to closed to a form
of electric stuff or whatever, 'halogen'
I guess I meant (headlights); a 'Doula'
I was surprised to learn, was a Midwife;
but one with very strict configurations
of duty - in that she could NOT give
medical care, nor deliver a baby.
All a Doula (Alladoula itself sounds
quite funny), was allowed to do was
give emotional and psychological
support to a mother, before, during,
and after childbirth - for the various
ills and crises of pregnancy. It's called
'emotional, physical, and informational
support during pregnancy.' A Midwife,
on the other hand, can deliver and give
medical care. Anyway, in today's world
it's all called 'post-partum' stuff, but back
then in the days of DDT and synthetic
concoctions of all sorts, a 'Doula' was
not a word in common currency.
-
So, how many other crazy kids have
you known who exercised no restraint
over words, at 12? That was the same
year, too, that - upon arriving at 7th
grade History class - the rear bulletin
board had been tacked up with all
sorts of magazine references and
photos to the Civil War, (American)
Centennial. It was there too that
an entire array of cool place-names
and other words, captivated me -
Manassas, Antietam, Wilderness,
Ball's Bluff, Belmont, Philippi,
Shiloh, Seven Pines, Malvern Hill.
All of that blew me away (to make a
sort of Civil War ballistics reference).
Combined with that was, in my own,
further, readings (all this; none of it
was actually 'taught' to us in that
school, more rather just done up, and
silently, as a cheap, bulletin-board
display of tacked-up finery, with so
little explanation as to be useless),
was all the amazing names I'd see,
of the dead - biblical and archaic
names like I'd never seen before:
Jedediah, Hiram, Juball, Lasalle,
and - a great one for sure -
'Pleasant Unthank.' Sure was
some amazing stuff.
-
My Inman Avenue friend Ken,
with whom I went to that school,
had a 7th-grade momentary-crush
girlfriend. Nothing big-deal, no
swarming or petting, just a nice
desire to be with her. In order to
make that happen, so he could
meet her and spend time with her,
he and I would set out, about 6pm
or so, many nights that Winter, to
attend basketball games in that
school's ridiculously-designed
gymnasium. It was school-against-
school stuff, or maybe sometimes
intermural too. I hated basketball,
and still do - men in dumb-looking
shorts and clothing, running back
and forth 'dribbling' and 'shooting'
with a large, bouncing ball, never
did much for me. Besides, the
gym itself stunk, and I hated the
noise-quality too - the sliding
squeak of sneakers on varnished
wood, or whatever. The echo
and resonance of shouts, screams,
cheers, and whistles never much
floated my boat either. But, Ken
and this girl would get time
together, and that was the point.
Actually, it was an easy walk for
us, and we looked forward to it.
We'd set out towards Avenel Park
and Hudson Boulevard and then
cut across the grassy grounds of
what used to be a Costa Ice Cream
plant or factory or whatever places
are called where ice cream is made;
(Factory? It just doesn't sound
right). Then we'd cross Route One,
back then still a simple highway,
low-key and without the center
dividers like it has now. That would
put us into some large cemetery,
one without gravestones - all it had
were those flat rectangle things
flush with the ground. I never liked
cemeteries like that - anyway, a
quick dash across all that expanse
would get us to the houses - much
like those in our own block, but even
more of them - and then we'd get
to the school. It was by itself then,
though now they've built some
big-ass High School right next to
it. We'd go in and Ken and that
girl would meet (Note: I didn't say
'hook up'; today's lingo distorts all
that). I'd wander off, checking out
the people, the other kids and girls,
the game, or anything else I could
do to use up time. Then, when it
was all done, Ken and I would re-do
our mad dash to back home, getting
there maybe about 9pm. Once or twice
I can recall my father coming to pick
us up in a car. I guess maybe those
were extra-cold nights and I'd called,
maybe. Can't remember.
-
I suppose Ken's and my parents just
figured we had a new interest in the
sport of basketball. I never delved, nor
was it ever talked about. By the start
of March, or mid-March anyway, it
was all over. Nonetheless that silly
school has always stayed in my mind.
Just the other day someone said
something that brought it all up to
me again - to the degree that I felt,
in a Proustian way - that every
sensation, sound, and memory of those
days came flooding back. Someone was
telling me about their trip somewhere,
and about their air-travel. They made
mention of a stopover in Chicago,
and the person said...'It was a nice
flight, and we stopped momentarily
in Chicago.' I said, 'Really? Did they
give you enough time to get off and
then back on, at the least?'
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