Chrisonomicon

Saturday, January 12, 2002

I saw death in a casual stroll down the sidewalk today while accompanying Dave and Lindsay to "Amelie" but, of course, I didn‘t know it at the time. Looking back, I realize had passed through it like a ferry through a foggy river. It wasn‘t in the way the man was lying on the concrete bench -- a common sight in any city of reasonable size -- but in the way a cigarette lay a quarter inch from his slightly-curled hand, perfect and unlit, like an unwrapped Christmas present.

Our heads remained fixed on the motionless figure as we passed. Dave made jokes about learning when to stop drinking, but I felt strangely self-conscious and mentioned that I hoped he wasn‘t dead. My hopes went unrequited as several ambulances arrived half-an-hour later to remove the body of a man that had somehow slipped through the cracks of society. As they took him away amidst a gaggle of onlookers, I carefully wrapped this parcel of information in my mind to be delivered as soon as I got my snacks from the counter and joined the others, already having staked seats in the theater.

The movie was as good as the previous two times I had seen it (once in November with Jessie and Chris, a second in December with Cale). As we left the theater, I remembered the dead man on the sidewalk and remembered I had wanted to tell my friends, but I couldn‘t do it. I couldn‘t ruin the overwhelming feeling of optimism and love and perma-grin that the movie had imparted on us. Instead, I took the news and threw it far into the dark night sky.

I went snowboarding today for the first time this season. Lindsay and I had purchased season passes, but I have been so overwhelmed with school and work I haven‘t been able to pull myself away to go. We spent the day casually carving figure eights in the icy white slopes, and I had forgotten just how much I love it. Afterwards, we ate sushi and edemame. I haven‘t spent any quality time with her in months, and it was good to pretend, if even for a day, that we were still roommates.