Over a week ago, a massive thunderstorm came rumbling by my neck of the woods, so to speak. It was completely awe inspiring, in every way. It was Mother Nature, reminding us tiny human beings that she was firmly in control. You think you’re so powerful, that you, tiny beings, have gotten some imagined control over me? Think again my darlings.
I live in an old converted motel that rests along the old sate route 40, that slices through the “rust belt,” or to be more precise, Ohio, in my case.. The complex that I live in is not really a “complex,” in any modern sense of the word. It is just two rows of old, concrete buildings that were originally designed to serve as motel rooms for passers-by, the traveling salesmen, the weary farmer and the tourist, that have been converted into “studio,” apartments.
Now, it is a home for the social weary. It serves as home for those who can’t afford better, those on section eight programs, and those who served time in the “big house,” and those like myself who have no decent credit history.
OK, so much for the description of my “hood.”
I began this rambling with a thunderstorm. A glorious, magnificent display of Mother Nature’s whimsical side.
I grabbed a chair and sat in front of my little home. My neighbor soon came out, drawn by the storm and a curiosity as to what his neighbor was up to.
My neighbor is an elderly gentleman of the black “persuasion.” as it used to be called. He is a wonderful person who has gone through many of the same hardships I encountered as a young adult. We swapped stories of drug use, and dealers and jailers. We sadly agreed that today’s youth just doesn’t have the fun we had. We could have lent a shoulder, each, to cry on, but neither Jim, nor I, has much stomach for that sort of nonsense.
But we came to a two-person consensus about the state of now and what now used to be, backed up by our individual, yet oh so similar experience. Just two old farts remembering.
Yet, there was something magical about that night, maybe the electricity in the air, the astounding lightening strikes, the pounding rain, the roaring wind, or the so, so freshness of the rain cleansed air.
When I think back, I realize that it was a combination of all those things. More importantly, it was two lost souls who garnered some real truths about life, and discarded pigmentation long enough to truly connect as human beings.