road to nowhere...
I've been taking 24th street to Sheridan Swim Club the last few days, actually, I've gone that route 4 days in a row and it's the oddest thing. That particular stretch of road has this omninous feel to it and has me in a bit of a funk. I've been doing my best to shake it off, even tried alternative routes and still, it's almost eerie due to the place and time it takes me back to in my mind. [and stomach] This road leads nowhere except funktown and I have no interest in making a visit. Then I hear of a conversation Kev had with someone recently about events leading to that road to nowhere and I let it get under my skin. I know better. I just plain know better and still I let it get to me. I just want this behind me.
Seriously. I just want it all to go away.
-People will never know the truth
-Most don't want to know the truth
-The rest decided the truth was whatever was easiest to believe
This has satan all over it. This week is going to rock. So get behind me snake and leave me alone...and take your distractions with you.
Seriously. I just want it all to go away.
-People will never know the truth
-Most don't want to know the truth
-The rest decided the truth was whatever was easiest to believe
This has satan all over it. This week is going to rock. So get behind me snake and leave me alone...and take your distractions with you.
posted by ret at 4:50 PM
3 Comments:
A reason to rise out of the 24th st. funk - you're almost two minutes from my house when at Sheridan! We can hear the kids and music coming through the woods most days. Now - isn't that a perfect reason to be funk free!!!
A while back, I took Sarah on a tour of Lincoln. I showed her all the places that were meaningful to me from when I was a kid up through college. She says she loved the tour. So, lo and behold, she's gonna get a tour of Quincy. I called the town "home" for four years and she needs to see it. I'm guessing that means she'll need to see 24th. I will take her down that street. And I will get that feeling in my stomach, too. There is a sickening stretch down that road. There just is. If you take a right at one point and loop left, you'll find yourself in front of a house where, to me, there are shadows even if it's sunny out. I don't even have to be there--thinking about it makes my stomach roll and my mind ache. No one will ever know the true extent of what happened there one Monday afternoon. No one would want to and most will always find these words on the tip of their tongue, "I don't need to know everything..."
So I hear you on the whole drive down 24th. But it struck me as I read the post. There's this patch of road in that whole parable of the Good Samaritan that never gets any press, really, because we don't think of it as a character. And it's a remarkable road if only for the crazy lot that walked it. What a staggering contrast. The same stretch had robbers and thieves, the self-righteous and the smug and one guy who said, "Screw it, I'm gonna love extravagantly no matter the cost." I guess you take the good and the bad and the ugly on the same road. You always hope for the good to pass by...sometimes you get robbers and thieves, the self-righteous and the smug...but it all comes with the road and if there was no road, you'd at least miss the good for the bad.
24th will always be that kind of road. Just as much as I could go on and on about a certain lot that marks that stretch--believe me, this is not the first draft of my comment--I choose to land on these images...these travelers...
-a kid on 24th who stopped by apartment, hopped up on my deck and told me was glad to see me.
-a neighbor above me who was a Cubs fan, but I loved talking to him nonetheless.
-an evening with friends in a field, dreaming.
-a friend saving my heart when I needed it most...ironically right after some thieves had stolen it.
-loading up a truck to move away and start again and dream again and fly again.
I'll take 24th and then some. I'll take the bad and the ugly, because there is good lurking in there for me...for us...for everyone.
Love you, Ret. See you soon.
D-I've never been to your house...but I've heard it's a wonderful place to be...
G-it did help, thanks.
B-I know that house, the whole scene is etched in stone. I vented a bit when Kev, Sha and I drove the route yesterday morning and briefly told of that awful couple of hours. I hadn't really told him about it before. And I know it's just a fraction for me, nothing like it was for you, but I'm telling you this psyche of ours is an odd duck. Things from this are just buried so deeply. I don't want to minimize loss in anyway, but I understand those road side crosses and memorials.
I have never thought about the road holding both ends of the spectrum and it only makes sense. Especially after you express it in such beauty. I've missed your words. I'll forever regret that afternoon was marked by the thugs and not the samaritan. And such is this life, huh?
You're a light young Lowery. And I'm looking forward to tomorrow too. Thanks.
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