Homeless - 87

Back again,

The winter of '11 was colder than usual; at least it seemed that way. No wait, it was, with more ice and snow. Campus was shut down in late January or maybe mid-February due to snow and ice. I remember that on the last day of winter in March, the forecast was mid-thirties and maybe a light dusting of snow. Next morning, there was a covering of snow four to five inches deep on BT and on everything else. It snowed more than usual that winter. From what I remember of Dallas winters, we might get two snow events - each maybe an inch or a little more of snow and/or ice and that shuts the area down. We got much more that year.

The expanded opportunity for writing, the sitting in the backyard in late evening on warm days enjoying a whiskey at the end of the day and my interactions with the cats were all quite enriching. Then there was the snowball fights with the kids across the street. There were four of them - a boy and three girls, all maybe 10 - 12 years of age. All contributed to my appreciation of that time at that location.

The first snowball conflict was initiated on a whim on my part. I went out to retrieve my backpack, filled with assignments by vicious, uncaring professors when I saw them playing across the street less than thirty meters distant. It had been a snowy day, heavy in the morning but tapering off after lunch and into early afternoon. I had talked to them a few times before in the past few weeks. They were socially adept, initiating interactions, just curious about me and the house I lived in.

Anyway, I put my backpack back in BT and closed the door. They had waved and called me by name. I made a couple of snowballs, one in each hand, and lofted them over their heads. Did I mention I'm somewhat amberdextious? The first snowball fight of Oakhill Drive was underway, the children's voices and laughter filling the area. When I'm in a life-or-death snowball conflict, whether with adults or children, I loft my rounds in an arc giving them time to evade. One girl and the boy had an arm and precise targeting. When I prepared following salvos, I kept on eye on their incoming, dodging with a turn of the shoulders, sometimes letting other snowballs hit me.

It was a good time.

There were a couple of times after a good snowfall, my across-the-street adversaries announced their arrival into the battle space with a snowball thrown against the front door. Yes, the cats did jump at the sound. Within ninety seconds, I was in the combat zone.

After the last snowball fight, when I came back into the house desperate to obtain feeling in my hands in front of the fireplace, the man of the house staggered in from the den, already hammered at four PM. He made a derogatory remark about my interaction with the kids. I told him that his comment was uncalled for and inappropriate. He staggered back into the den. That happened the last day of winter in '11. I was hoping I would be able to exercise restraint about his increasingly corrosive attitude until semester's end. I did.

I'd met that couple at one of the pools that I visited the previous couple of summers. There were several times that I slept on their floor on a weekend. They seemed alright. They were aware of my circumstances and my goals. They offered a room for rent when they moved into a house in '11 and I took it. But things went downhill at the beginning of March. I did last until late May and during that time discovered a toxic relationship between them that polluted the atmosphere. It was a circumstance that I wanted no part of and when the opportunity arose for a clean separation, I jumped at it. It seems that there are some people that you should keep at a distance lest you discover how they are. Those two were companions in misery, unable to find a suitable companion and lacking the strength and character to be comfortably alone.

The summer went well. The fall semester flowed to a successful completion. More writing went well.

Living out of the Black Thunder Hilton has several advantages. It is not a toxic environment; me and BT got along just fine especially when I polish her up. When alone, a person doesn't have to endure the wear and tear of the emotional aspect of human interaction, notably from dysfunctional individuals.. Also, you don't have to endure ego-driven conversations where the speakers tell how great and good they perceive themselves. That May I reactivated my membership at the workout center that I had frequented previously. During that time with the couple, all I did was stretching out, pushups and situps but that wasn't the same as using weights, both fixed and free. After the first half of '11, and in subsequent semesters, I would go work out, clean up and head to class.

From time to time, I wondered if the cats missed me. I chose to think so since I cleaned out their litter boxes on a daily basis. The couple only performed that responsibility once a week. To me, that borders on animal cruelty. For me, one of the rooms of a human living area that should be kept spotless is the bathroom. And we all know all fastidious a cat is about appearance and hygiene. Now, it must be painful for them to use the litter box on the third day. And the woman of the house is a veterinary technician.

I took an acting class - 300 level - because of the faint whisper that indicated that I might need to know about that arena. Let me tell you, that requires work and a collapse of self defenses, ideas and perceptions. The course was taught by a professor who was and still is quite active in theater, both locally and nationally. That course gave me an appreciation of the discipline that actors must adopt in pursuit of presenting a script in a believable fashion. The memorization of a script is taxing but I think that I lacked the proper technique, so I did it the old-fashioned way - rote. I participated in a scene from Uncle Vanya. After I read the entire play several times, I didn't understand then and still don't, the popularity of the play.

One of the assignments for that class was to construct a five-minute script, subject of choosing. Yep, you guessed it, mine was from my main writing project. I portrayed a character named Sebastian Gage who infiltrated Area 51 and was seemingly captured by that sire's security personnel.

The aspect of my portrayal that was appealing to me were the questions from the class and the professor about the story line. Maybe it was something in the writer in me that appreciated the interest. I kept the notes and have the intention of pursuing that story line further. Sebastian Gage is a character that demands more be written about him. I have plans for that guy. I have written a couple of short stories about him but more on that later.

Next post will deal with 2012...