Friday, February 3, 2023

16,043. RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,361

RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,361
(stories, memories, and recollections)
In that big, old house in Columbia
Crossroads, there were nights when
I'd cringe because of the cold and 
wind. It would come (often with 
snow), raging down the side hill.
That never happened in Elmira;
obviously, of course, because it
was an urban area with streets
and blocks, each house blocking
the next, I'd suppose, and breaking
up the winds. I've never liked the
fierce winds  - as if a vicious bull
or a freight train was a'roaring.
Funny how it goes, but here I am,
fifty years later, in pretty much the
same situation  -  on an elevated
plain, above water, facing that same
fury that used to shake me then. Ah!
So such is the glee of the repetitive.
The fireplace here takes care of the
'cold' aspects of it, but I stand in awe
of the dangers of wind  -  trees ripped
up, vehicles (and roofs) crushed too.
-
Probably it's all been me; over-reacting
and all that (and yes, I know I'll regret
ever having said that, someday). In the
Elmira house, one part of a good-sized
basement wall was made of rocks. I
guess they  were the same rocks from
when the basement was dug out, but 
they had been mortared as a wall and
that was crumbling and sagging. I
lived in fear of the entire house falling
down upon us. Nothing ever happened.
-
There was also a small collection there 
of cast-off space heaters and old, small
kerosene heaters. I never really touched
anything in that area, for it always kept
me on edge and nervous. That's all funny
because usually I blast through such items
and overlook flaws, but everything in
this Elmira house, as nice as it was, 
had - the more I searched - lingering 
possibilities for presenting immanent 
'problems', even  though nothing really 
ever happened. Again, that's me all 
over, and I know I'll regret saying
that too.
-
There's a certain level, I'm sure, that a
person's mind is set up for  -  receiving 
signals and suppositions that fit the forms
of that 'mind'  -  I used to call that living
in 'structures'. In fact, at one point in a
philosophy seminar, I presented, dutifully,
my well-written, and pointed, theory of
that before a class-full of fellow students.
It went over well enough, until the class 
discussion veered over into the realms
of how such 'structures' would do no
more than alienate people, one from
the other, causing rancor and strife.
Yes, they probably did grasp the point.
I made the point before, in an earlier
chapter, about how different it was to
switch between 'farmers' and these
small-city types. I'm not sure a farmer
would grasp what I was trying to
propound; but who am I to say he or
she would not. I think these college 
and philosophy types used a lot of 
it as just another means of passing 
time with what to them was nothing
more than idle chatter.
-
As I've clumsily outlined here, I spent
a lot of my time screwed up and in
a muddle, traversing the paths varied
between one and the other world. I
never settled in, I suppose. There was
so much still ringing in my head from
those New York City years that none
of those combinations ever right fit.
Consider my life really : a train wreck
at age 8 that left me comatose and in
a hospital for some time, then at age 12,
nearly four years of cloistered, seminary
living, 80 miles from home, then a finish
up at the local high school, then my New
York City years, and then, in another
gigantic travel jag Columbia Crossroads
and Elmira, suddenly with home-ownership
and 2 quite different locations, and family
life and fatherhood too. No wonder my 
head was rattling!
-
Now, nearly a damned lifetime later,
nothing remains but a gaggle of sticks,
trepidation (same as always) regrets,
worries, and bundles worth of stories, 
memories and recollections  -  enough
to tire a man to death.

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