22 May 2006

Still Alive!

Don't worry, I haven't died. I just went to Pittsburgh.

It was a nice break to be able to take: Going to Mike D's (lovely) wedding. It didn't occur to me that there was a place in the world that wasn't experiencing 100 degree heat, so I was shocked to find myself wearing short sleeves and bermuda shorts and sandals, freezing my tail off in the 50 degree chill of the northeast. Surprisingly green: I previously thought of Pittsburgh only in greyscale images of soot and steelworking equipment.

I somehow slunk into stealth mode during my travels. Sometimes I find myself chatting with strangers, but I guess all of the personalities within me spun the wheel and the James Bond wannabe won out for this trip. I had an interesting experience at the airport standing in line to get on the plane. The exiting passengers had to walk right by me one by one, and I my creative backlog broke through the dam: I made up a flash short story in my mind about each person as they filed by me. Each one was surprisingly complete and took only about 1-2 seconds: If Fran was there, I would have whispered them to her and it would have kept her laughing for days (she gets me).

It would be anticlimatic to list them all or even to write them out in complete detail, but here are snippets:

-(Older man with white, puffy hair and deep creases in his face, very clean clothes) He has a deep, dark secret that, when he was a kid in junior high, he and some friends killed a hobo who was just passing through by smashing him with rocks. He still has nightmares about it. He's on this trip to visit his elderly aunt who is his last remaining relative.

-(Young, short guy in workout clothes carrying a gym bag: he's about 32) This guy works out like a fiend every day to compensate for only being 5'3" tall. He tries to pass himself off as athletic but really only works out in the gym. He's really proud of his muscled physique, so he went to the airport in his workout clothes to call attention to it. Gay.

-(twenty-something woman, glazed look on her face) She was having sex exactly one hour before getting on this plane.

...and so on.

then, I overheard this man who made call after call in a booming, baritone voice. He was in his mid 50's and was wearing a fedora, speaking in the blandest midwestern accent yet using the strangest dialogue and laughing at his own cleverness. He would start his conversation with:

"Commodore! How goes it with thee?"

and continue with the quirky language and plays on words all the way through to the end, which he completed with: "Over and Out!"

It took quite a lot of self-control not to fall on the ground laughing at his self-important silliness.

During this time, I sat against the wall and started writing a story about Ryan. It is really personal and I was thinking of having it bound and giving it to him as a gift. I was really focused on it and typing pretty fast, when I realized that a woman next to me was reading the story over my right shoulder--I didn't know if I should be flattered or outraged, if I wanted her to read it or not...at any rate, I got distracted and lost my train of thought. I tried to pick it up again but started writing a ridiculous analogy and got embarrassed that she was reading that particulary idiocy, so I packed it up.

--more to come.

4 comments:

Stormfilled said...

I love making up people stories, but just haven't had the brain to do it within living memory (i.e. since school started in September). Sometimes I meet people who don't need their stories making up, they tell them all too happily.

There was one man, an old black guy sitting on a tube station platform strumming a guitar with only three strings and a hole in the back. He told me about his travels around London and his series of encounters with a large brown rat who he insists was the same one each time, miles apart. This, he told me, was King Rat. He ruled London and would always know where to find him. He then turned his attentions to a lady standing in front of us with a rather, erm, prominant posterior.
"You know what she needs, don't you?" he said. My heart sank fearing that he'd metamorphosed into a tube station pervert (there are many).
But no.
"What she needs, you know, is a George Forman grill!"
I laughed so hard I fell off the bench. My train pulled in and I bid him a fond farewell.

gP said...

Don't worry, I haven't died. I just went to Pittsburgh.----> this almost sounds like a joke...:P

Welcome back traveler!!! Nice trip you had...any snaps???

Mike's Drumbeats said...

Hi Stormfilled: Thanks so much for your story! That was so funny to read. The corollary to the part about making up people stories was that I did about 30 of them in a row! I got so excited. Then I started looking around and trying to do it with the people who were crammed in line waiting with me--I couldn't think of one story on demand like that...

We didn't have too many funny experiences in the tube stations: there was a protest while we were there (people marching into London to complain that folks who live in the Countryside are not being properly considered...

Hey GP: I did get some great snaps, but they were mostly of Mike D's wedding, so he probably doesn't want me to share...

There was also kind of a funny moment. Apparently, due to where I was sitting, one young lady showed up in several of my pictures--maybe bordering on too many, according to one critic. Fran was outraged and accused me of photographing her too much! Innocent, I declare!

Anonymous said...

Hey Mike!
Great change of format - 'though I keep looking over my shoulder expecting to find the Earp brothers reading over my shoulder :)

Vignettes - didja ever have the urge to find out just how close to the mark your minute stories are? Heck, if Sherlock Holmes could do it: "Hmm, Watson, a large man slept here...greying hair, with a cleft palate. He favoured Irish lasses, and took his anchovies straight from the tin..." And he was *always* right ('cuz Doyle showed us). Why can't we check on ours?

Although the star-eyed girl would be a challenge ;)

Oh, stormfilled, really like the King Rat story :)

Mike, we need to see the Lady-in-Red. I'm pondering some parallels with The Matrix here...