Wednesday, October 10, 2018

Sometimes A Picture Is Worth Slightly Over Six Hundred Words


     When I saw this picture of the 61C coffee shop, that was taken by Stephanie Strasburg of the Post-Gazette, it stopped me cold in my tracks.  Suddenly, I was having what felt like a panic attack while I was chained to my desk at work and powerless to do anything about it other than let it hit me full on.
     Even though I had driven past it a few days before I saw the photo, long forgotten memories from decades ago came screaming out of the back of my mind.  The what ifs and paths diverging in woods of my youth were pounding on my frontal lobe, trying to escape.  Realizing that there was nothing I could do about any of it, since what is done is done and the poor, gutless decisions had already been made, I had no choice other than to ride out the shakes and sweats.  Along with a great desire to sweep the contents of my desk to the floor, yell “Fuck It!!!” and walk out the door.  Constantly having to remind myself that food and shelter are some of life's necessary evils so a day job does serve its purposes.
     My shadow used to darken the door of the 61C on a somewhat regular basis.  That is where I would obtain post show coffee, if I was on that end of town and too wired to head home yet.  And back when I wasn't a poet but didn't know it, the 61C was where I would go for a change of scenery to tirelessly drill away into a notebook while listening to my Discman.  The other coffee places that I used to frequent were the Kiva Han on S. Craig St. or either of the Beehives.  This was in a time before there was a soulless Starbucks on every other corner so each of these places used to have their own character and didn't try to sell me a Dave Matthews CD when I cashed out.
     If it wasn't a Friday or Saturday, I would start at the South Side Beehive but if it seemed too crowded I would keep heading east until I found one of the spots lacking the youths of America that I didn't want to be and would go to great lengths to avoid.  During the school year, the 61C always had the smallest crowd or at least a crowd that knew how to act when they left their houses.
     More often than not for some reason, it would be raining when I left the 61C so the rain passing through the light given off by the streetlight and the people huddled under the umbrella, in the photo, really landed on me.  Always without an umbrella and too stubborn to pay for parking close by, I'd always get back to my car thoroughly soaked and wondering why I didn't park closer or spring for an umbrella.  I never said I was smart.
     So many nights and cigarettes were spent scrawling ink across paper in an attempt to form sentences that certainly have not held up over time.  Trying to find where I might fit in to my own life, thinking that I was pondering and tackling the big questions that I still haven't found the answers to all these years later.  Attempting to figure out what was wrong with everyone else and why they didn't see the world the way that I did.
     Life became much easier when I realized that I would never fit in so I stopped trying altogether and normally head in the opposite direction of humanity whenever possible.  Pretty soon, only the 61C will remain after all these years but not much else has changed.  I have dropped the steady stream of cigarettes from my diet but the sentences are still shaky, I still park too far away from where I'm actually going and I refuse to switch to decaf.


No comments:

Post a Comment