I am in Glenside, PA visiting R. It was cool a few days ago, but all of a sudden it got steaming hot (like Shanghai), and now it's raining, and now the wind is blowing through the darkness through the windows cooling us down.
I always like coming down here, partly because it's a good thing to get away from P anyway, but mostly because I like the people. R takes good care of me--always has extra sheets, a towel, and breakfast. Then there's the Japanese guy who once wrote apocalyptic journal entries in the fever of conversion (but no longer does), the aeromechanic/business major who alternately drives bling and a shagwagon, Y the girl from China who's thinking of riding a bike with no brakes, and two old guys who treat everybody like their kids and are supremely hugable. It's so easy to laugh here, to act my age, to spend a whole day doing nearly nothing but being contented.
This is not to say that everything which is problematic or heartbreaking simply evaporates the way summer puddles evaporate by noon, as if such things as 'escapes' really exist (what do people have in mind anyway when they say that about vacations?). But what I do mean is that sometimes a change in pace and atmosphere is a good opportunity for stepping out of the current 'situation,' for seeing that the 'situation' isn't everything and that the ever-present sadness doesn't make the whole play a tragedy. There is reason to laugh after all, reason to let those waves upon waves of undignified levity rattle us gravitas-drunk folk a little, rattle us into remembering that there's a party ahead with good eating and good company.
I always like coming down here, partly because it's a good thing to get away from P anyway, but mostly because I like the people. R takes good care of me--always has extra sheets, a towel, and breakfast. Then there's the Japanese guy who once wrote apocalyptic journal entries in the fever of conversion (but no longer does), the aeromechanic/business major who alternately drives bling and a shagwagon, Y the girl from China who's thinking of riding a bike with no brakes, and two old guys who treat everybody like their kids and are supremely hugable. It's so easy to laugh here, to act my age, to spend a whole day doing nearly nothing but being contented.
This is not to say that everything which is problematic or heartbreaking simply evaporates the way summer puddles evaporate by noon, as if such things as 'escapes' really exist (what do people have in mind anyway when they say that about vacations?). But what I do mean is that sometimes a change in pace and atmosphere is a good opportunity for stepping out of the current 'situation,' for seeing that the 'situation' isn't everything and that the ever-present sadness doesn't make the whole play a tragedy. There is reason to laugh after all, reason to let those waves upon waves of undignified levity rattle us gravitas-drunk folk a little, rattle us into remembering that there's a party ahead with good eating and good company.
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