Beginnings: Bye Bye Boston
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Two stories to go. One quick thing, first. That super secret project I’ve been hinting about? Well, after an inspiring phone conversation with Bob Tinnell (Feast of the Seven Fishes, Terry Sharp, The Black Forest, The Living and the Dead, and The Wicked West) last night I’m going to just start calling it the “secret project”. Taking off the “super”. This is so going to happen. And you’re all going to shit your pants when you see it.
Anyway, story time…
___________________________
A couple of days before college graduation my mom came down to spend some time with me. Robin and I hung out with her; there was some tension but nothing huge. I went to a party one night after dinner, left my mom at home – she says she understood, the end of college and all – but you can tell she was disappointed, I invite her up and then ditch her in a city she’s not familiar with.
The next day my father came up with my grandparents and my Aunt Connie. We all went out to dinner before everyone went back to the hotel – I had another party to hit up; the last week of college is full of parties.
Then came graduation – almost the entire Rodriguez family showed up. Titi Anita and Mario drove up from New York with Titi Lisa and Hervin. Uncle Chris and Aunt Jacinda came up from Connecticut. Tio Andy and Titi Denise came down from Buffalo. They all came to Boston and crashed the hotels to go to my graduation – the first in the family to graduate from college – the oldest cousin setting a new bar for the rest of them to aspire to.
Not everyone in my family made it to the university-wide ceremony held on Nickerson Field – Tom Wolfe was our keynote speaker and that doesn’t do much to excite my family. Fuck, it doesn’t excite me and I’m the aspiring writer. BU, not counting scholarships and grants, ended up being a 120,000 dollar investment – you’d think they’d bring on Clinton or something.
Everyone showed up at the smaller, college ceremony, though. I had the biggest cheering section out of everyone there. They called my name out and I went up, all smiles, my relatives acting like the families from the Junior High ceremony, cameras going off and my Tio Andy screaming at people to move out of the way, he’s trying to get this shit on video.
I get my diploma, it’s in this portfolio, shake the hands and walk off the stage, all smiles – open up the portfolio to take a look at the diploma to find a bill there instead, quietly tuck it under my arms and make my way back to my seat.
After the ceremony my family wants to see the diploma, I’m reluctant. They want pictures with me holding it open, shit like that, and after avoiding their requests for a couple of minutes I finally breakdown and open up the portfolio to show that there’s nothing in it but the bill.
My parents – they’re a little embarrassed, to say the least. Of course it opened the conversations up for a whole slew of “Puerto Ricans can’t pay their bills” jokes but, you know, we can’t.
My father gave me a check, I ran down to the treasures office, settled up my balance and get the real diploma and we all start taking pictures again. I said what turned out to be my final goodbyes to a lot of people I rolled with in college – mainly the people that where in my major, I didn’t hang with them as much senior year. They were all fighting with each other, hooking up with each other – even R was dating one of my good friends. It was all just kind of – sleazy, I guess. My RA friends didn’t sleep with each other and made for much more comfortable nights out.
My entire family and Robin’s parents all made our way to La Familia for a nice Italian meal. I got plenty of envelopes totaling about five-hundred cash – this is going to be all of the money I end up going to Washington DC with. My father paid the massive bill but only after coming out of the kitchen with an apron on - as he started to clean up the table the family starts to crack up – my father has some jokes up his sleeve.
After dinner some of the family left – not everyone was staying the night in Boston. Robin and I went out to Crossroads with my Uncle Chris, Aunt Jacinda, Titi Lisa and Uncle Hervin. We drank and smoked all night, played some darts, played some Clue. Guam came out to meet me there. Honestly, out of all the friends I met in college Guam’s the one I most wanted to have drinks with on my last night in Boston. Homeboy was a partner in crime like I’ve never had and haven’t had since – creatively we jived together, we were always bouncing ideas around – I honestly think college would have sucked if I didn’t meet Guam junior year. He got me into improv, got me into acting and inspired me to start writing again.
Shit you not, you can trace it all back to the dude. Me, right here, over 240 stories over a year’s time, one more to go – this all started at Guam. The comics, the plays, the movies – it all started at Guam. So it was fitting he was the last guy I toasted that night, the man was one of the few muses I’ve ever had and likely the strongest.
After drinks we go back to my brownstone. At this point I’m the only person left in the building, I had two residents who were seniors and they moved their shit out earlier. I set up a room for my family that went out drinking with me – they crashed the night and hit the road early the next morning.
Robin went to the green line stop to take the train out towards Framingham, her mom was picking her up at Riverside. Next time I’d see Robin will be in Washington DC – ready to start our new life together.
I pack up the car with the remainder of my stuff – the stuff that’s not going into temporary storage. I go to the RA office and check in my keys, shake my director’s hand, and give hugs to the RAs who are handling closing. I want to stay longer but my family’s waiting for me in the car.
I get in the back seat with my sister and my Aunt Connie. My mom asks me if I’m all right but realizes my eyes are tearing up and I don’t answer her, she leaves me alone. We pull away from Bay State Road; my sister puts her head on my shoulders and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I try to keep myself together as BU disappears behind me and I fail miserably – but my face is turned towards the window the entire time.
We turn around on Commonwealth Avenue and there’s Warren Towers – the dorm I stayed in during summer orientation, the dorm R lived in freshman year. For us RAs Warren Towers was a nightmare – everyone who got assigned to what was primarily “the freshman dorm” had to work three times as hard as the rest of us. Or they just had constant sex with their residents, whatever.
Drive down Commonwealth and hit Kenmore Square. I used to walk down to the Store 24 in flannel pajamas and my Jesus Kicks. One day we’re down there and the place is closed, I see the guy behind the heavy glass door and begin to pound on it, screaming, “24 hours, man! It’s in the fucking name!”
The Pizzeria Uno in Kenmore was the place to go freshman year – it almost felt like a bar and the four cheese pizza was delicious. We’d always hang there and catch the first three innings of the Sox game, make our way to Fenway and get the severely discounted tickets from the scalpers who are just trying to get rid of them.
Go further down Commonwealth and you get to Angora Café who changed their name to Ankara Café but fuck that. Frozen yogurt with over fifty mix-ins, a night out consisted of waiting on a line that snaked out the door just to get some magical Fro-Yo. Stop upstairs when you’re done eating at the head-shop and fantasize over the glass pipes that cost too much to ever justify purchasing – why spend fifty bucks on a pipe when fifty bucks will get you enough dope to last the week?
Passed Comicopia – the comic store I’d stop in once every couple of months and say to myself, “You know, I want to get back into comics.” Buy an issue of the X-Men to discover Wolverine’s a horseman of Apocalypse or some shit and remember why I stopped reading them to begin with.
Get to Copley Square – a bunch of us got dressed up freshman year and went to a Valentine’s Day dance there – rented a hotel room that cost about as much as I was making in a week. Believe it or not, that was the first time R and I had sex – and yes, we’ve been dating for almost seven or eight months (shit, last week is full of revelations, first Unstrung Heroes and now this). She wanted to wait until she was 18; I guess I can appreciate that. Of course, she turned 18 the last days of December but I had this crazy notion that I’d make it right for her, first time and all, and after waiting so long what’s another month and a half, right? So we got the nice hotel, danced all night, set the mood at the hotel and I was done in about two minutes. Five minutes later we went again and that time it lasted about three minutes. You see, you can’t make it special when you haven’t had sex in almost a year.
And then it’s on the Mass Pike, heading west. You see the school one last time, all the dorms and the university buildings – that one last look at PJ Killroy’s, my favorite bar, and then it’s nothing but Newtons and Framinghams and Walthams and Peabodys.
After ten minutes I wipe my eyes and start talking again, the car ride feels like it takes forever but once we’re back in New York all I can think about is the coming move to DC.
All I can think about is Robin.
Anyway, story time…
___________________________
A couple of days before college graduation my mom came down to spend some time with me. Robin and I hung out with her; there was some tension but nothing huge. I went to a party one night after dinner, left my mom at home – she says she understood, the end of college and all – but you can tell she was disappointed, I invite her up and then ditch her in a city she’s not familiar with.
The next day my father came up with my grandparents and my Aunt Connie. We all went out to dinner before everyone went back to the hotel – I had another party to hit up; the last week of college is full of parties.
Then came graduation – almost the entire Rodriguez family showed up. Titi Anita and Mario drove up from New York with Titi Lisa and Hervin. Uncle Chris and Aunt Jacinda came up from Connecticut. Tio Andy and Titi Denise came down from Buffalo. They all came to Boston and crashed the hotels to go to my graduation – the first in the family to graduate from college – the oldest cousin setting a new bar for the rest of them to aspire to.
Not everyone in my family made it to the university-wide ceremony held on Nickerson Field – Tom Wolfe was our keynote speaker and that doesn’t do much to excite my family. Fuck, it doesn’t excite me and I’m the aspiring writer. BU, not counting scholarships and grants, ended up being a 120,000 dollar investment – you’d think they’d bring on Clinton or something.
Everyone showed up at the smaller, college ceremony, though. I had the biggest cheering section out of everyone there. They called my name out and I went up, all smiles, my relatives acting like the families from the Junior High ceremony, cameras going off and my Tio Andy screaming at people to move out of the way, he’s trying to get this shit on video.
I get my diploma, it’s in this portfolio, shake the hands and walk off the stage, all smiles – open up the portfolio to take a look at the diploma to find a bill there instead, quietly tuck it under my arms and make my way back to my seat.
After the ceremony my family wants to see the diploma, I’m reluctant. They want pictures with me holding it open, shit like that, and after avoiding their requests for a couple of minutes I finally breakdown and open up the portfolio to show that there’s nothing in it but the bill.
My parents – they’re a little embarrassed, to say the least. Of course it opened the conversations up for a whole slew of “Puerto Ricans can’t pay their bills” jokes but, you know, we can’t.
My father gave me a check, I ran down to the treasures office, settled up my balance and get the real diploma and we all start taking pictures again. I said what turned out to be my final goodbyes to a lot of people I rolled with in college – mainly the people that where in my major, I didn’t hang with them as much senior year. They were all fighting with each other, hooking up with each other – even R was dating one of my good friends. It was all just kind of – sleazy, I guess. My RA friends didn’t sleep with each other and made for much more comfortable nights out.
My entire family and Robin’s parents all made our way to La Familia for a nice Italian meal. I got plenty of envelopes totaling about five-hundred cash – this is going to be all of the money I end up going to Washington DC with. My father paid the massive bill but only after coming out of the kitchen with an apron on - as he started to clean up the table the family starts to crack up – my father has some jokes up his sleeve.
After dinner some of the family left – not everyone was staying the night in Boston. Robin and I went out to Crossroads with my Uncle Chris, Aunt Jacinda, Titi Lisa and Uncle Hervin. We drank and smoked all night, played some darts, played some Clue. Guam came out to meet me there. Honestly, out of all the friends I met in college Guam’s the one I most wanted to have drinks with on my last night in Boston. Homeboy was a partner in crime like I’ve never had and haven’t had since – creatively we jived together, we were always bouncing ideas around – I honestly think college would have sucked if I didn’t meet Guam junior year. He got me into improv, got me into acting and inspired me to start writing again.
Shit you not, you can trace it all back to the dude. Me, right here, over 240 stories over a year’s time, one more to go – this all started at Guam. The comics, the plays, the movies – it all started at Guam. So it was fitting he was the last guy I toasted that night, the man was one of the few muses I’ve ever had and likely the strongest.
After drinks we go back to my brownstone. At this point I’m the only person left in the building, I had two residents who were seniors and they moved their shit out earlier. I set up a room for my family that went out drinking with me – they crashed the night and hit the road early the next morning.
Robin went to the green line stop to take the train out towards Framingham, her mom was picking her up at Riverside. Next time I’d see Robin will be in Washington DC – ready to start our new life together.
I pack up the car with the remainder of my stuff – the stuff that’s not going into temporary storage. I go to the RA office and check in my keys, shake my director’s hand, and give hugs to the RAs who are handling closing. I want to stay longer but my family’s waiting for me in the car.
I get in the back seat with my sister and my Aunt Connie. My mom asks me if I’m all right but realizes my eyes are tearing up and I don’t answer her, she leaves me alone. We pull away from Bay State Road; my sister puts her head on my shoulders and gives me a kiss on the cheek. I try to keep myself together as BU disappears behind me and I fail miserably – but my face is turned towards the window the entire time.
We turn around on Commonwealth Avenue and there’s Warren Towers – the dorm I stayed in during summer orientation, the dorm R lived in freshman year. For us RAs Warren Towers was a nightmare – everyone who got assigned to what was primarily “the freshman dorm” had to work three times as hard as the rest of us. Or they just had constant sex with their residents, whatever.
Drive down Commonwealth and hit Kenmore Square. I used to walk down to the Store 24 in flannel pajamas and my Jesus Kicks. One day we’re down there and the place is closed, I see the guy behind the heavy glass door and begin to pound on it, screaming, “24 hours, man! It’s in the fucking name!”
The Pizzeria Uno in Kenmore was the place to go freshman year – it almost felt like a bar and the four cheese pizza was delicious. We’d always hang there and catch the first three innings of the Sox game, make our way to Fenway and get the severely discounted tickets from the scalpers who are just trying to get rid of them.
Go further down Commonwealth and you get to Angora Café who changed their name to Ankara Café but fuck that. Frozen yogurt with over fifty mix-ins, a night out consisted of waiting on a line that snaked out the door just to get some magical Fro-Yo. Stop upstairs when you’re done eating at the head-shop and fantasize over the glass pipes that cost too much to ever justify purchasing – why spend fifty bucks on a pipe when fifty bucks will get you enough dope to last the week?
Passed Comicopia – the comic store I’d stop in once every couple of months and say to myself, “You know, I want to get back into comics.” Buy an issue of the X-Men to discover Wolverine’s a horseman of Apocalypse or some shit and remember why I stopped reading them to begin with.
Get to Copley Square – a bunch of us got dressed up freshman year and went to a Valentine’s Day dance there – rented a hotel room that cost about as much as I was making in a week. Believe it or not, that was the first time R and I had sex – and yes, we’ve been dating for almost seven or eight months (shit, last week is full of revelations, first Unstrung Heroes and now this). She wanted to wait until she was 18; I guess I can appreciate that. Of course, she turned 18 the last days of December but I had this crazy notion that I’d make it right for her, first time and all, and after waiting so long what’s another month and a half, right? So we got the nice hotel, danced all night, set the mood at the hotel and I was done in about two minutes. Five minutes later we went again and that time it lasted about three minutes. You see, you can’t make it special when you haven’t had sex in almost a year.
And then it’s on the Mass Pike, heading west. You see the school one last time, all the dorms and the university buildings – that one last look at PJ Killroy’s, my favorite bar, and then it’s nothing but Newtons and Framinghams and Walthams and Peabodys.
After ten minutes I wipe my eyes and start talking again, the car ride feels like it takes forever but once we’re back in New York all I can think about is the coming move to DC.
All I can think about is Robin.
Labels: mitc
posted by Jason at
12:53 AM
0 Comments
jason rodriguez is an eisner and harvey-nominated editor and writer. email him. or become his digital BFF below:
www.flickr.com
This is a Flickr badge showing public photos and videos from Eximious Pictures. Make your own badge here.
a few of my favorite things
barack obama blog@newsarama.com journalista pop candy dc conspiracy dcist cracked joshua hale fialkov salon slate funny or die arlington libraries quarterdeck amateur gourmet italy gawker trickster bethesda writer's center sam cooke standard attrition road trip america bendis board new york mets bell's two-hearted ale heidelberg pastry shoppe arrowine busboys & poets greenberry's arlington hard times cafe rhodeside grill ray's the steaks arlington cinema & draft house mediabistro galaxy hut washington post young liars scalped cotes du rhone cafe asia smithsonian institution san deigo five guys burgers and fries puma definitive jux dan the automator prince paul dj bc thomas pynchon william faulkner orson welles wonkette tallula rfd perry bible fellowship nerve big brothers/big sisters purple liquid strange maps lp cover lover boing-boing confessions of a college callgirl rebel xti defamer the beat
Previous Posts
- Beginnings: Moving Out
- Beginnings: Cutting Out
- Beginnings: The Speech
- Toys
- Gross!
- Putting the Mega in Jesus Christ
- Paintball
- Sweat Shop
- My B, B
- Pets