When I return to my home to the Bel-Air/Edison neighborhood, I cross Harford Road and head through the gulf course as I cut over to Bel-Air. The two-mile stretch of bumpy road winds through the gulf course in the pitch dark, and I have to turn on my brights to see anything at all.
I've heard it's unsafe to take the road at night, and one friend told me outrageous stories of cars being boxed in and the occupants robbed. And, truth be told, it would really suck to have a breakdown on this street when it's dark out. A long walk with my feet hurting would certainly make me a target if anyone was looking for one.
But I'll never ditch an opportunity to take it. The pitch darkness makes me think that it's an old country road, and that I'm back in southwest Michigan driving. It's still the city, but if you didn't know it - or didn't look up and miss seeing the stars and moon - you might think you were in a desolate area in the middle of nowhere. It's not until the road opens up at near Bel Air and Erdman - onto, frankly, one of the worst pits of Baltimore, with garbage always baking on the streets, and people with nowhere to go standing on street corners in front of a liquor store - that the spell is broken, and I realize that I'm once again going through the motions of heading from school to home in Baltimore.
It makes me happy, if only for a couple of minutes, to drive on that road. It's been a tough go of it lately, and promises to get tougher.
I think I'm dealing with my annual October unhappiness a little bit early. It's that time in a teacher's year when the optimism of the new school year wears off, and he realizes that he'll never actually ever be caught up with anything, ever. It shouldn't happen on September 14, though. It should happen in October. And then you deal with it, and the rest of the year goes well. This year, it has come quicker. The graduate courses, or at least one of them, is sucking my soul away. My health problems are almost comical, they are so ridiculous. Head surgery? Shaving my head (or at least part of it) so a doctor can cut into it? How absolutely ridiculous! Constant and sometimes intense foot pain? How does that even happen?
I'm a little sad, a little homesick, and a little pissed off, but at least the classroom gets me excited every day. It's the rest. The rest that I don't have, the rest that I have to get through. Pun intended.
How We Hear Humor
-
Richard Restak describes how the brain processes jokes: All humor involves
playing with what linguists call scripts (also referred to as frames).
Basically...
12 minutes ago

6 comments:
ever take Falls road from the Charles Theater up to Hampden? you feel likeyou are plucked out of the city and dropped into small town Ohio. i love it.
Hey trouble. Long time no comment. I just spent a little time catching up with you. I'm at yelnad.com/blog, but haven't been updating much. Expecting our first baby any day now (for real). Hugs,d.
wait...do you mean GOLF course?
(and I LOVE that part of Falls Road! I always take it home from the Charles.)
I enjoy driving that road as well, since I can use it to get out of my office and onto Belair Rd. with a minimum of fuss.
I don't get much opportunity to run it at night, unless I work late during the winter.
I hope your surgery went well and that you're feeling OK with your "new do". And I hope you're lying around watching TV with your sore feet up this weekend. You might scare the customers at the restaurant with your skinhead look.
Anon: Surgery is not for a couple weeks, but thanks just the same. :)
Mr. Butterworths: I think I know what you speak of, and think I've found myself lost in that neighborhood.
Donna/Yelnad: Wow, what a blast from the past! I hope you're well. Congrats on the new baby. You still in touch with kinetix?
Zenchick: Oops. I is an English teacher. Or maybe I subsconsciously meant the misspelling because it's sort of a gulf that you cross.
Claude: So, you've seen the strange statue of a Native American in the middle of the golf course?
Post a Comment