I was a bad student yesterday and blew off my American Studies class so that I could get a head start on my trip to Seattle. I needed to eat, get my oil changed and print out a map of the route. Despite the oil changer guys doing their damnedest to convince me that my car was going to rattle apart and/or explode in the next five minutes if I didn't completely rebuild the entire thing, I only spent 40 minutes or so there. I let them replace the radiator cap and the windshield wipers, but I drew the line at replacing the battery.
The drive was suprisingly easy, even though I arrived in Seattle, known for its horrendous rush hour traffic, at 5:30. Google gave me a back route and shockingly I managed to not end up in Canada! I did get frustrated in downtown, though, and wound up pulling into the first parking garage I could turn into without changing lanes or waiting for oncoming traffic to pass. This happened to be about a mile from the venue, but because the weather was reasonable and so was the price of the parking ticket, I stuck with it.
To kill time before the show I walked through the closed Pike Place Market and down to the docks. I found myself a spot with a view of the Sound, the cityscape, the Space Needle, the harbor and the dozens of planes flying in and out of the airport. I don't know if it was the sea air, the quiet sound of the water rippling and the dock gently bumping below, or the patchy fog, but I was reminded of a night in Monterey.
For those of you that don't know, for a year and a half I was stationed in Monterey, CA, studying Korean for the Army. My recruiter told me this was the biggest party in the military. It was a dream assignment for those normal folk with active social lives and a car. I had neither. One Friday night while everyone on the planet seemed to be out having a fabulous time at various parties, I was in the barracks reading or writing in my journal or something equally nerdy. Through my window I could hear the waves and the sea lions barking ("The only thing you won't like about the place is those damn sea lions barking all the time," a sergeant at the Portland MEPS said to me) and at around midnight I decided that brooding down by the water was better than doing so within the concrete walls of my tiny barracks room.
Walking through the fog, I reflected on the cruel irony that although I feel like a wounded artist-type, I have not a shred of actual artistic talent. Unable to paint or poeticize about it, I was just doomed to wander along beaches feeling sorry for myself. So that was exactly what I was doing when I had the brilliant idea to climb out onto some rocks in the water. I'd get up on one and the next one would be right there, so I'd hop onto that one and before I knew it, I was a good ways from shore. All alone, in the dark, I started to feel kind of smug. "Ha! I don't need to stinkin' parties! I entertain myself! haha!" And then a wave came and knocked me off the rock.
Luckily, once I managed to get onto my feet, the water was only waist deep. Pulling myself along the rocks, I fought the tide and managed to get back to shore without breaking any bones or getting washed out to Santa Cruz. You idiot! You can't even swim! What were you thinking? Worthless! I was soaking wet, covered in sand and I smelled like kelp. Even better, I was two miles from home. But by the time the walk was over, I was giggling maniacally. I may have almost moped myself to death, but hey, I at least did something, right?
***
Wow, I was talking about my trip to Seattle, wasn't I? Damn, I guess that will have to be continued.
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4 comments:
Hey, guess who is still stuck in an annual Korean refresher training class hating life because whatever language ability he may once have had have ebbed away through years of disuse. Neh!
Oh, and I have a new website and blog. Your blogroll still reflects the old one.
Ah yes, my blogroll is out of date, Gene, I apologize. An update/revamp is coming soon, I promise!
I had a hilariously stupid silly night back when I in high school in Monterey. I was at a very elite function for the brightest math students in the state and their teachers. The dinner ended and several of us decided to go walking along the sand. We were being silly - maybe we even managed to snag some wine or something. I remember being scared we'd get caught. Anyway, we decided to stand along the roadside and then fall back into the ice plant whenever a car would come along, in a row, like toy soldiers. We did it over and over, laughing like idiots (we were high school nerds and this was our idea of breaking the rules). All of a sudden, one car started driving toward us - over the ice plant and into the sand... we ran, laughing, falling... I was sure I was going to be caught and expelled...laughing so hard I couldn't run, couldn't get up when I fell... I don't remember how we got away, but we did. That's my best memory of Monterey, stupid as it is. I thought I was going to die and couldn't believe I was going to ruin my high school career over being so silly... good fun.
Everyone needs to follow their noses into near disaster at least once in their lives.
I once went on one of those back country road "You may ask yourself, where does that highway lead to?" drives without checking my gas supply. I had visions of being stranded in rural Texas for months before someone drove by and helped.
Luckily, the gas held out until the road eventually made it to a place that could be described as a "somewhere", or more specifically a "somewhere with a gas station."
The drive was gorgeous, I went skinny dipping, found the perfect house (which I could probably never find again if I were paid to do so), saw oodles of wild things, and neither I nor my car died in the effort.
Would I do it again? In a heart beat. But I'd check the gas first.
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