2005-12-23 - 12:18 p.m.
Once again, when I was in New York a few days ago, I went to see a movie with my friends from elementary school that was appropriately tied to that era. Peter, Russ, Devan, and Ellen met up with Nya and me at a theater near Times Square to see �The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe� (Robyn E. was sadly trapped in Brooklyn by the transit strike and couldn�t make it). I think all of us read the book back at P.S. 194K.
I only learned later that the book is some sort of allegory for Christianity, with Aslan as Jesus and the White Witch as Satan. Or secularism. Or something. Having been reminded of the story by the film, I can�t find any direct correlation. Were the CGI centaurs angels or something? What did Santa Claus� appearance mean? Whatever. C. S. Lewis may have been a big theologian and all, but this seems a pretty stretched and obscure parable. Certainly, any allusions were gone by the sequel books. And it�s Christmastime anyway, so maybe a Christianity parable is seasonally appropriate.
I was so proud to have the opportunity to introduce Nya to everyone. I felt a little sorry that other significant others didn�t come. I�d like to meet them. Plus, it would be nice if there were additional non-elementary school people around who also couldn�t follow when we gossiped about classmates. Nya rolled with it and maybe it was silly of me to want to include her in this. But she understands how important this is to me. She very much wanted to go and hear what I was like as a little kid.
We went for margaritas afterwards and Russ told the funniest story (that I�d forgotten about until he brought it up) about the little me. I stood behind him in our size-order line. When we walked I would always complain that he was too slow and holding up our progress. �Boy,� I would say, �Russell, you are the slowest walker I have seen in my life! In all my years, I have never seen anyone slower.� In all my years. Where were we going anyway that I needed to get to so quick?
It was particularly great that Ellen was there. I hadn�t seen her in over two decades. Years ago, I had heard that she�d become an opera singer, which made me proud that I�d co-starred as the Miller to her Little Red Hen in the kindergarten play. But apparently it was just something she was doing on the side (uhm yeah, we should all sing at the Metropolitan Opera on the side�). In real life she swims with the sharks as a corporate executive. After working at an Internet ad agency and at the New York Times, she�s now getting her MBA at Harvard Business School. Wow. What have I done recently?
We dished a lot about former classmates. Devan had run into one girl outside a gym a few years back. But she didn�t recognize him initially and by the time she did he thought it would seem stalker-ish to pursue it, so he left. (Ellen said that she knew the girl and she�d become a dermatologist in Jersey.) Apparently the girl whose hand I held on line married a guy she met on JDate, an online Jewish dating service. And I�d always thought she was Scandinavian; she was blond and Aryan-looking.
Nya pointed out that Peter, despite being married and successful as a lawyer, still claims to be upset by perceived persecution back in the day. Although I seem to remember Russell as the kid who was always picked on, Peter claims Russ paid my best friend David (a big guy for an 8-year old) to beat him up. Peter said it wasn�t fair that I reaped the benefits of friendship by getting David to defend me, while others had to pay for his physical enforcement services. Sorry.
Ellen apparently had a crush on the class punchball star. Some didn�t remember this game at all, but that seems impossible, as we played it almost every day after lunch. I guess it�s a classic Brooklyn pastime. The only equipment you need is one of those bouncy blue rubber balls. There were several other games played with such a ball against a concrete wall, like Off the Wall and Suicide, which involved pegging the ball at other players who missed a catch (or maybe who you just didn�t like).
But punchball is played on open concrete as a sort of analogue of baseball. There were four bases (usually marked with someone�s tossed down sweatshirt) and no pitcher, so the �catcher� is really just the home plate baseman. The �batting� player chucks the ball up in the air (or bounces it off the ground) and punches it (or if you were a wuss, like most of us, slaps it with an open hand) out into the field. Then he runs for first and the game goes on like baseball. Except on concrete. I guess grass was too expensive for the New York public school system to maintain.
I always remember some argument ensuing. Who hadn�t touched third or who had fielded the ball badly or who knows. We�d almost invariably end up fighting. Gee, young boys fighting � surprise, surprise. Meanwhile, the girls were playing complicated jump-rope games and honing their socializing skills. But Ellen (who was kind of a tomboy at the time, although I don�t recall her playing punchball) says that this scene was actually perilous and catty. Maybe it was better (certainly it was easier) to just beat the crap out of your playmates.
This was the first time I�d seen these folks while using a wheelchair. Of course, most of them had seen me disabled when we saw �Revenge of the Sith� together and even Ellen, who wasn�t at that, knew what was up beforehand. I�ve realized that someone in a wheelchair is easier to �read� and certainly less alarming than someone cripping along who looks like they might lose their balance and fall at any moment. I suppose it�s a lot easier for me too.
It was good to be reminded again that, despite MS and all, I�m still the same person I�ve always been. Except without the late-70s/early-80s bowl haircut. Go buy some of the graphic novels that Devan writes and go watch a trailer from the film Russ made. And be nice to Ellen; maybe she�ll give you a job when she runs the world.
� 2005 Geoff Gladstone
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