Monday 10/9
Visited my old boss & pal Steve Baron @ his store CD Central. He's doing well, ran into a former classmate or two. It is true what they say, you can never go back. Sometimes it's because so much has changed. In the case of Lexington (and other smaller worlds like it), it's because you've grown and it's stayed the same. Hiked down to Ye Olde Firetrap AKA the Reynolds Building, the fine arts studio warehouse and visited with Arturo Sandoval, my old fiber instructor. He's warm and perverted as ever. I got a picture of him giving me a big fat kiss and me feigning repulsion. Love the guy. The gay uncle I never had. Or did have.
Later that night went over to my dad's for dinner. I hadn't even planned to see him this trip except I answered the phone at my mom's the night before and ended up talking to him. I'm not sure if you could call our relationship "estranged" or even "strained". It's more like nonexistent. This is of course made worse by the presence of his new wife, whose less-than-flattering depiction I'll spare you. We ended up going to a place called Mark's Feed Store, a barn-like BBQ joint that makes Applebee's seem like world class cuisine. I spoke to my dad entirely in Chinese, effectively shutting his (Caucasian) wife out of the conversation. Yes, it was deliberate and no, I didn't care. My dad attempted to translate bits of our conversation to her, which she said she didn't necessarily need to know. We went back to their house, a house I never lived in (I'd moved into my own apartment by the time my parents bought it) and talked for a bit longer. I felt as though my dad was trying to catch up with me in a way, not to make up for years of unintentional neglect but to simply get to know the person I am today. Mostly though, he talked about his disillusionment with the Chinese Democratic Movement and stories about his being interrogated in the Beijing Airport. This story I'd heard before but enjoyed hearing it again. I left the house that night feeling something close to nothing.
Tuesday 10/10
Flew into Buffalo, NY and was picked up by my old pals Beth & George. I got to play with their daughter Abigail, an adorable and very even-tempered kid with Michellin Man arms and cheeks that probably get squeezed way too often by random old ladies in restaurants. We drove quite a ways through Eastern NY State into PA. Not much out here except Amish and a Walmart or two. It's great being with B & G, two friends I introduced to each other. There was a time I distanced myself from them, I'm not even sure why now. I believe they will be part of that small group of friends that you keep for life. Their little house is nice and the town of Warren, PA may seem quaint to the average visitor. They desperately wanna get the hell outta dodge but want to wait til their second bun pops out of the oven (due after Thanksgiving). They're not urbanites like me & Susannah but I think Warren (pop. 10K) is a little too small and incestuous even for them.
It's funny how dependant I've become on the internet. My mom's stupid AOL connection keeps dropping out and I got a little antsy not being able to check my mail EVERY DAY. I actually wanted to stay offline for the duration opf my trip but wanted to update my travelogue while the feelings were still fresh. Or so I tell myself. I'm here on the other side of the country trying to connect to old friends while not being able to be disconnected from... from what? Maybe from whoever's reading this. So, this weblog is for me, but it's for you, too. My past and presents sometimes don't mix well or at all. Maybe this is my way of connecting them. Maybe this is my continuity.
1AM. I feel like having a couple of pancakes.
Visited my old boss & pal Steve Baron @ his store CD Central. He's doing well, ran into a former classmate or two. It is true what they say, you can never go back. Sometimes it's because so much has changed. In the case of Lexington (and other smaller worlds like it), it's because you've grown and it's stayed the same. Hiked down to Ye Olde Firetrap AKA the Reynolds Building, the fine arts studio warehouse and visited with Arturo Sandoval, my old fiber instructor. He's warm and perverted as ever. I got a picture of him giving me a big fat kiss and me feigning repulsion. Love the guy. The gay uncle I never had. Or did have.
Later that night went over to my dad's for dinner. I hadn't even planned to see him this trip except I answered the phone at my mom's the night before and ended up talking to him. I'm not sure if you could call our relationship "estranged" or even "strained". It's more like nonexistent. This is of course made worse by the presence of his new wife, whose less-than-flattering depiction I'll spare you. We ended up going to a place called Mark's Feed Store, a barn-like BBQ joint that makes Applebee's seem like world class cuisine. I spoke to my dad entirely in Chinese, effectively shutting his (Caucasian) wife out of the conversation. Yes, it was deliberate and no, I didn't care. My dad attempted to translate bits of our conversation to her, which she said she didn't necessarily need to know. We went back to their house, a house I never lived in (I'd moved into my own apartment by the time my parents bought it) and talked for a bit longer. I felt as though my dad was trying to catch up with me in a way, not to make up for years of unintentional neglect but to simply get to know the person I am today. Mostly though, he talked about his disillusionment with the Chinese Democratic Movement and stories about his being interrogated in the Beijing Airport. This story I'd heard before but enjoyed hearing it again. I left the house that night feeling something close to nothing.
Tuesday 10/10
Flew into Buffalo, NY and was picked up by my old pals Beth & George. I got to play with their daughter Abigail, an adorable and very even-tempered kid with Michellin Man arms and cheeks that probably get squeezed way too often by random old ladies in restaurants. We drove quite a ways through Eastern NY State into PA. Not much out here except Amish and a Walmart or two. It's great being with B & G, two friends I introduced to each other. There was a time I distanced myself from them, I'm not even sure why now. I believe they will be part of that small group of friends that you keep for life. Their little house is nice and the town of Warren, PA may seem quaint to the average visitor. They desperately wanna get the hell outta dodge but want to wait til their second bun pops out of the oven (due after Thanksgiving). They're not urbanites like me & Susannah but I think Warren (pop. 10K) is a little too small and incestuous even for them.
It's funny how dependant I've become on the internet. My mom's stupid AOL connection keeps dropping out and I got a little antsy not being able to check my mail EVERY DAY. I actually wanted to stay offline for the duration opf my trip but wanted to update my travelogue while the feelings were still fresh. Or so I tell myself. I'm here on the other side of the country trying to connect to old friends while not being able to be disconnected from... from what? Maybe from whoever's reading this. So, this weblog is for me, but it's for you, too. My past and presents sometimes don't mix well or at all. Maybe this is my way of connecting them. Maybe this is my continuity.
1AM. I feel like having a couple of pancakes.
posted by Dan at 12:56 AM
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