Monday, October 17, 2011

Tenzing Norgay

Providence, Rhode Island 

Leaving Hartford I'm stopped by a man on the street who starts asking about my trip.  He pulls out a video camera to interview me.   I'm agitated but talk to him a bit.  He asks: "Aren't you worried about riding around out here?  It ain't safe for white boys like you and me."  I'm weirded out and tell him I'm not worried about it.  He says I might not get messed with on account of my beard which he calls "intimidating."  He asks if I'm making an account of the trip and I lie.  I said my name, so presumably he could get in touch with me, but bump that, I'm not associating with that guy.

I tell my host, Dior Nepcer, when I get into town.  She's busy so I sit around for a few hours until she texts to tell me her phone died.  I'm staying with her, her mother, and her sister.  I worry about the family dynamic, lest I have another Pawley's Island situation.  I see exceedingly little of the sister, but Dior and her mother are nice. I have a friend who goes to Brown here, but I don't realize the school's in Providence until I run into it.  I hope to find Emma Watson here to ask for her hand.  Not surprisingly, I don't find her.  Surprisingly, the talent is pretty spectacular here, especially for an Ivy.  I text a friend this and he reminds me that Brown is the state school of the Ivies.  If the other Ivies have the same talent I will regret not having done better in school.

I see an old railroad bridge I want to take pictures of behind a supermarket.  I walk through some brush to get to it, but there aren't any trespassing signs posted.  I see an art piece on one of the girders that I recognize from pictures earlier on the trip in some gallery.  The walkway along the bridge has long since decayed so I have to walk between the bumps on steel beams and grab the random wooden posts still standing.  I reach the platform at the end and start taking pictures.  A boat full of fishermen look on.  Another pulls up and I faintly hear someone yell "Don't fall, man."  I'm insulted he thinks I need the advice.  On the way back I notice a tag on the beam saying "DON'T DIE DROID."  I'm glad everyone seems to care.  I go back to Dior's and we smoke in front of her mother.  It's the first time I've smoked around a parent.


I've never been completely comfortable being intoxicated around my parents, especially when I think they suspect it.  I think it has something to do with lowered inhibitions or some misplaced sense of shame for being not sober.  My defense mechanism is to pretend any change in behavior is due to some unnamed frustration or I just say I'm tired.  Even though it's mildly uncomfortable being in an altered state around my parents, it happens on occasion and is largely a tolerable unease.  I can't imagine getting mutually intoxicated with a parent.  My dad offers me beers, but not with the intention for me to get drunk.  I'd like to have a discourse about my habits, but I don't think I'd like to actually smoke with my dad.  The situation is different with siblings, as I have no hesitation getting fucked up around my brother.  There's some boundary with my parents that I don't care to cross.  I'm not sure why I stick to these arbitrary restrictions or from where they originate, but seriously, my dad still calls it dope.  How do you even communicate with that?

Rhode Island Kill Count 
Cat: 1
Chipmunk: 3
Deer: 1
Rat: 2
Small Bird: 3
Squirrel: 10
Unknown: 3

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