February 22, 2007
The Longest Weekend
Taken from Anthony's Web Site.
In the summer of 1994, while still getting comfortable with my first apartment outside of the dorms at Berry College, my roommate and I welcomed a friend of a friend who was moving to Rome, Georgia. He had confided to his friend that he had received a vision where God told him to moveto Rome. He needed a place to crash for a couple of days, and who were we to quell his vision. He did, after-all, come with a pretty high reference. Though we wondered if maybe he had accidentally received one of St. Peter’s dreams by mistake. Those kind of things often happen, you know; like when a cashier at an Eat ‘n Park in Greensburg, PA got a dream crossed with St. Francis of Assisi and was picked up naked at the children’s zoo on Route 30, trying to persuade the water buffalo and a few llamas to give up their worldly possessions.
My roommate and I never met the guy,, but thought we were quite welcoming and generous, trying to imagine what it would be like to move somewhere and not know anybody in town, have no money, and then have to put up with the fact that my roommate saw no problem with constantly walking around with no clothes on his body. I, fortunately, was still totally blind at the time. Our guest, on the other hand, landed into the perfect situation.
Nevertheless, we charged him nothing for the board, or the free peep show, since it was only for a couple of days. He had gotten a job washing dishes at Po Folks (may they rest in peace), and we were told that he wanted to get set up in his own place pretty quick. That was fine with us, as the smell from the Po Folks dish tub hung in our kitchen like marsh of dying onions.
Five weeks later, my roommate leaned over to me and said, "You know, I don't think he's going to leave."
He had, after-all, been living on our sofa for five weeks, hanging his dirty Po Folks uniform on my newly inherited tower speakers (sacred gems to a college student just out of the dorms), and we had already started to get his mail delivered to our place, most interesting were the evangelic lecture series he got from a friend on how to combat catholics.
"What, I thought as I mistook his taped sermon for Led zeppelin IV.
I couldn't help but think of our visitor everytime a friend of a friend would ask to stay over for a couple of nights that eventually became the longest weekend ever. we've all experienced it, even with close friends or family, that point when you just know its time to say so long, farewell, etc...
One extra day can be excitingg, the idea of unplanned adventures, thanks to airline cancelations or other mishaps. two days go by, and you tell them to just make his or her self at home, and you go about as if business is usual. After three days, and you begin to notice the little things that reminded you why you decided to find another roomate after that first year of college. You know, that "I think we should just explore all our options..." Anything after four days, you begin to walk around reciting biblical verses from the Old Testament--fire and brimstone kind of stuff--which clearly has the word "test" right in front of you.
That's how I've felt these past weeks whenever I think of the looming presidential election, which at present is more than twenty months away. For some strange reason, I feel like I'm going to be well beyond day four when the elections actually get here. Already, debates are being planned, and dirty laundry is being thrown around like soiled Po Folks uniforms. And what makes it so difficult is that your guests just walked in the front door. How much are we going to love them after nineteen more months? That's twice as long as the castaways from Mexico were lost at sea last year. And reading their story in this weeks New Yorker, I felt like I was thrown into their eternity at sea. And I'm a diehard Democrat who finds great pleasure in watching C-SPAN on a rainy afternoon, a political junkie who doesn't ask much of his guests, except not to talk during presidential debates. But by the time they're here, I won't be able to stop screaming..."Oh, the pain...Oh, the pain..."
In the summer of 1994, while still getting comfortable with my first apartment outside of the dorms at Berry College, my roommate and I welcomed a friend of a friend who was moving to Rome, Georgia. He had confided to his friend that he had received a vision where God told him to moveto Rome. He needed a place to crash for a couple of days, and who were we to quell his vision. He did, after-all, come with a pretty high reference. Though we wondered if maybe he had accidentally received one of St. Peter’s dreams by mistake. Those kind of things often happen, you know; like when a cashier at an Eat ‘n Park in Greensburg, PA got a dream crossed with St. Francis of Assisi and was picked up naked at the children’s zoo on Route 30, trying to persuade the water buffalo and a few llamas to give up their worldly possessions.
My roommate and I never met the guy,, but thought we were quite welcoming and generous, trying to imagine what it would be like to move somewhere and not know anybody in town, have no money, and then have to put up with the fact that my roommate saw no problem with constantly walking around with no clothes on his body. I, fortunately, was still totally blind at the time. Our guest, on the other hand, landed into the perfect situation.
Nevertheless, we charged him nothing for the board, or the free peep show, since it was only for a couple of days. He had gotten a job washing dishes at Po Folks (may they rest in peace), and we were told that he wanted to get set up in his own place pretty quick. That was fine with us, as the smell from the Po Folks dish tub hung in our kitchen like marsh of dying onions.
Five weeks later, my roommate leaned over to me and said, "You know, I don't think he's going to leave."
He had, after-all, been living on our sofa for five weeks, hanging his dirty Po Folks uniform on my newly inherited tower speakers (sacred gems to a college student just out of the dorms), and we had already started to get his mail delivered to our place, most interesting were the evangelic lecture series he got from a friend on how to combat catholics.
"What, I thought as I mistook his taped sermon for Led zeppelin IV.
I couldn't help but think of our visitor everytime a friend of a friend would ask to stay over for a couple of nights that eventually became the longest weekend ever. we've all experienced it, even with close friends or family, that point when you just know its time to say so long, farewell, etc...
One extra day can be excitingg, the idea of unplanned adventures, thanks to airline cancelations or other mishaps. two days go by, and you tell them to just make his or her self at home, and you go about as if business is usual. After three days, and you begin to notice the little things that reminded you why you decided to find another roomate after that first year of college. You know, that "I think we should just explore all our options..." Anything after four days, you begin to walk around reciting biblical verses from the Old Testament--fire and brimstone kind of stuff--which clearly has the word "test" right in front of you.
That's how I've felt these past weeks whenever I think of the looming presidential election, which at present is more than twenty months away. For some strange reason, I feel like I'm going to be well beyond day four when the elections actually get here. Already, debates are being planned, and dirty laundry is being thrown around like soiled Po Folks uniforms. And what makes it so difficult is that your guests just walked in the front door. How much are we going to love them after nineteen more months? That's twice as long as the castaways from Mexico were lost at sea last year. And reading their story in this weeks New Yorker, I felt like I was thrown into their eternity at sea. And I'm a diehard Democrat who finds great pleasure in watching C-SPAN on a rainy afternoon, a political junkie who doesn't ask much of his guests, except not to talk during presidential debates. But by the time they're here, I won't be able to stop screaming..."Oh, the pain...Oh, the pain..."
# posted by Tony : 8:09 AM
