The Self Absorbed Man in Isolation: Act IV

A vision of the past is only as clear as the years in between then and now. I have imbibed in many a substance in my day and the clouds of intoxication have wiped many a situation from recollection. But the defining moments are never erased, only the low times in between. Those first hours in the house in Manchester were a defining moment for me.

Lack of grass or yard was the first of many changes I would need to accept into my new reality. The second was the house itself. The grand entrance and high ceilings of our Home in Woodstock was now replaced with a choked doorway and small dark rooms. It was a unique house, clean and with many architectural oddities - a narrow spiraling staircase, a large round three-panel picture window - and although I would eventually be familiar with all its corners and crevices, it never earned my love as a Home should. But as I said, I accepted it as a place to hang my hat and as the setting for the tragic events that would ultimately define the man I have become.

My new room was nothing more than an exaggerated closet, a narrow space between my bed and "Odd Rods" sticker covered dresser. A large desk was squeezed into the space at the end of my bed and blocked the door from fully opening. The door had a metal post that extended into my room, designed for clothes hangers to be held - my new closet. I hung the posters from my previous room but here they looked childish and immature, innocent throwbacks to a soon forgotten time.
After a near sleepless night due to unaccustomed house-settling creaks and moans I decided to check out the landscape of the surrounding neighborhood. I set out on my bike. I soon learned that "banana" seats and large U-shaped handlebars would not be an acceptable form of transportation in my new surroundings. But on day two, I innocently and confidently set off. The scenery of suburbia leaves something to be desired, especially when you have spent your life in a postcard worthy corner of New England. The duplex and triplex housing, the acres of asphalt and the traffic congestion were all new to me, not to mention the startlingly gruff attitude of the local inhabitants. To be honest, I had barely had a conversation with a black person let alone been a neighbor or gone to school with one. I had seen my fair share during visits to the city with my grandparents, but my grandparents had lived in their house since the beginning of time and were respected members of their community. I had never encountered intimidation before, especially from other races. And honestly, I was so inexperienced that I may not have recognized it when it happened. I must have been a sight - the country hick nerd boy with glasses on the retro 70's bike riding along the sidewalk, gawking at the people walking and figuring out how to use a cross-walk button.

In the weeks before my first day of school, I ventured outside and learned the area pretty well. I learned where to get comics and where to get gum and fountain drinks. I learned where the library was and where the local kids my age hung out. I learned the streets where people would confront you and ask you for money or if you "needed something." All this I learned alone.

The only major positive advancement that came with this relocation was the availability of CABLE TELEVISION. Cable was not available out in Woodstock. Matter of fact, it was another two or three years before it would be offered there. But here it was for me - a frenzied blur of MTV and Captain USA, ESPN and CNN. And all the networks with gorgeous reception (without having to adjust the "rabbit ears" for each new channel). This really was something of a breakthrough for me. It would eventually change my world and how I saw myself in it. The possibilities held in 30 channels (as opposed to the 4 I had in Woodstock) were endless. And for those first few years it lived up to its promise. The late 80's were my Golden Age of television and in my mind have yet to be repeated in the amazing diversity of programming available to me. Yes, today I have like 200 channels (many in glorious HD) but many of those channels are duplicates. At any one time I can find 7 or 8 separate shows devoted to renovating houses either for resale or luxurious surprise (for example). Again, future posts will illustrate my views on television, so I won't go on now. But let's just say again that TV was (and is) a huge part of my generation and skewed us a certain way. Today's kids are skewed another way due to the differences in the TV programming available. It's amazing that TV has this kind of power over society, but it does and we all know it.

I think I can wrap this up and get to the point by the end of Act V. I know this is long-winded and I hope those following along are getting something from it. It's a huge release for me and I find myself re-reading the posts for my own insight into the man who is me. Again, I've come this far and must finish it, so expect the grand finale within a week.