Toute Pensée émet un Coup de Dés*
I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler
I'm a long way from home
And if you don't like me
You can leave me alone
….
Oh, I once had me a true love
Her age was sixteen
She was the flower of Belton
And the rose of Saline
(Bob Dylan)
Alone. That's how it started and that's where it stands now. Hard to believe, isn't it? Seems like we should be in this together. But we're not, evidently, since we have to go around inventing ourselves continuously. I'd like to be a rambler, but I stick close to home.
Even after High School I didn't venture any farther than the Long Island Railroad could take me. And I gambled on what was then a sure thing: "Better living through chemistry". I had invented a character for myself that we'd call today a nerd or a geek. I thought I was going to live in a laboratory, like I did before at home in the one I'd fashioned under the cellar stairs. But I didn't have a hand to play out that game. The realization of that started me on the rambling road.
My sophomore year was at Alfred University; a long day's bus ride from New York City. I was pretty much alone there too, except for a small group of Asian students who came to learn ceramics engineering. But something struck me when I saw a notice announcing a "spelunking" weekend with the Outdoor Club. We went to State College Pennsylvania, right in the middle of the limestone cave country. Here were "outdoor geeks" who reveled in crawling through mud and tight spaces in the underground rock. Oh yes, now I remember. That strange classmate, George Moorse wore a spelunker's patch on his jacket the day we went frogging. My parents often spoke of their honeymoon and took us to Luray Caverns during a family vacation. And, then too, each year we went camping in the Adirondack Mountains. I had a model for outdoor life as well. To top it off I'd learned how to hitch-hike as a Junior Counselor at Camp Kittatinny in northern New Jersey. What to do with an official day off? No one stayed around on that day so I tried my luck hitching a ride to the movie in town. Yep, I was prepared for a couple of sorties on my own that year at Alfred. They were memorable.
My Junior Year at NYU brought the inescapable realization that I was not going to be a nerd. Rigorous science was not my thing. It was time to hit the road. "Join the Army and see the world". But I couldn't get out of character. I was drafted into the Chemical Corps and sent to France, close by the limestone cave locale of prehistoric humankind. I rambled about the countryside in my first automobile, a 1952 Plymouth four door sedan. Mountains, caves and old towns became my haunts. But it was a solitary life, even in the barracks. I had to take a gamble. It was sort of a blind date, and it worked. For a while I had a companion on my weekend rides. We went to beaches and cafes, movies and dances. And, finally, Sunday dinners "en famille". But time was running out and something else needed to be done to preserve this relationship. It was a spur of the moment gamble, an offer to join me in my rambles back in the USA. That changed everything.
I was no longer alone. I had a constant companion. But I was no longer either a rambler or a gambler. I was a husband, I was a father. I was a student and a teacher. I was a professional entering an academic career. I was. And then I had to reinvent myself. Well, I tried, but I didn't get very far away from the first model on that try, nor on subsequent tries.
When I gamble it is with small wagers. When I ramble it is with small steps. Do we ever get very far from home, even over the course of a lifetime?
Every thought brings forth a roll of the dice. But a roll of the dice will never do away with the play of circumstance.
*Hommage a Mallarmé
I'm a long way from home
And if you don't like me
You can leave me alone
….
Oh, I once had me a true love
Her age was sixteen
She was the flower of Belton
And the rose of Saline
(Bob Dylan)
Alone. That's how it started and that's where it stands now. Hard to believe, isn't it? Seems like we should be in this together. But we're not, evidently, since we have to go around inventing ourselves continuously. I'd like to be a rambler, but I stick close to home.
Even after High School I didn't venture any farther than the Long Island Railroad could take me. And I gambled on what was then a sure thing: "Better living through chemistry". I had invented a character for myself that we'd call today a nerd or a geek. I thought I was going to live in a laboratory, like I did before at home in the one I'd fashioned under the cellar stairs. But I didn't have a hand to play out that game. The realization of that started me on the rambling road.
My sophomore year was at Alfred University; a long day's bus ride from New York City. I was pretty much alone there too, except for a small group of Asian students who came to learn ceramics engineering. But something struck me when I saw a notice announcing a "spelunking" weekend with the Outdoor Club. We went to State College Pennsylvania, right in the middle of the limestone cave country. Here were "outdoor geeks" who reveled in crawling through mud and tight spaces in the underground rock. Oh yes, now I remember. That strange classmate, George Moorse wore a spelunker's patch on his jacket the day we went frogging. My parents often spoke of their honeymoon and took us to Luray Caverns during a family vacation. And, then too, each year we went camping in the Adirondack Mountains. I had a model for outdoor life as well. To top it off I'd learned how to hitch-hike as a Junior Counselor at Camp Kittatinny in northern New Jersey. What to do with an official day off? No one stayed around on that day so I tried my luck hitching a ride to the movie in town. Yep, I was prepared for a couple of sorties on my own that year at Alfred. They were memorable.
My Junior Year at NYU brought the inescapable realization that I was not going to be a nerd. Rigorous science was not my thing. It was time to hit the road. "Join the Army and see the world". But I couldn't get out of character. I was drafted into the Chemical Corps and sent to France, close by the limestone cave locale of prehistoric humankind. I rambled about the countryside in my first automobile, a 1952 Plymouth four door sedan. Mountains, caves and old towns became my haunts. But it was a solitary life, even in the barracks. I had to take a gamble. It was sort of a blind date, and it worked. For a while I had a companion on my weekend rides. We went to beaches and cafes, movies and dances. And, finally, Sunday dinners "en famille". But time was running out and something else needed to be done to preserve this relationship. It was a spur of the moment gamble, an offer to join me in my rambles back in the USA. That changed everything.
I was no longer alone. I had a constant companion. But I was no longer either a rambler or a gambler. I was a husband, I was a father. I was a student and a teacher. I was a professional entering an academic career. I was. And then I had to reinvent myself. Well, I tried, but I didn't get very far away from the first model on that try, nor on subsequent tries.
When I gamble it is with small wagers. When I ramble it is with small steps. Do we ever get very far from home, even over the course of a lifetime?
Every thought brings forth a roll of the dice. But a roll of the dice will never do away with the play of circumstance.
*Hommage a Mallarmé
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posted by David at 8:02 AM
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