Brad Walsh

And My E-mails Amounted to Many

Is MP3J an actual term that people use?

Being back in Ohio for a few days was like taking off roller skates. You know you were just walking not too long ago, but it still feels completely foreign to be using your feet. It’s more work, maybe. More work to do less.

Too much fast food. More driving than I’m now used to. The unnerving feeling that old friends were nervous with me. My brother is home-schooled now and doesn’t wake up until noon on Mondays. Pandora already wants a divorce. Miss my damn dog.

Old friends, some from elementary school, some from college. People with birth names like Falcon and Montana. And a new friend, another visitor from New York who knew people I know and may be about to put in four years in the ridiculous mile-long jailhouse that is Oberlin College. It seems that many of the people there that I still know and love are not very well-liked by the new people. But they all concur that Oberlin sucks. Especially now that Teryl died. God dammit.

Never again will I attend a Barbie party in the Masonic Temple with Martin Luther King watching from the front yard.

I have a theory about why my senior gay male friends at Oberlin hate it so much. There are about 2800 students at Oberlin College. I would guess that 40% (1120) are male. Of those 1120 guys, maybe 20% (224) are gay, despite what every straight girl at Oberlin would have you believe. An extremely generous grant might allow a senior gay male a rate of being attracted to 20% (45) of those gay men, and of those 45, perhaps 30% (13) are attracted back. And since a senior really shouldn’t date a freshman, 25% (3) are out. That leaves maybe 10 dateable people, 5 of which are too scared to say word one to anyone they like, 1 who turns out to be a secret racist, 2 who get used up in September, and 1 who becomes an ex by Christmas and then it’s the end of the world.

In Cleveland, I visited my coffee shop twice. The first time was upsetting because I thought I didn’t know anyone who worked there any more. But my favorite was there the second time, and even though I only stayed long enough to discuss the owner of the old theatre across the street and pay for my medium (not grande) coffee, I left feeling good.

Had dinner with Ray and Vicky and Kathy, and called Candace because there was a her-shaped void.