Last night I had the pleasure of speaking with a great friend on the phone. It had been years since we last spoke. Funny how quickly we fell back into our normal cadence of conversation. Like I said, it was great.
Yesterday afternoon I put on my skateboard face and headed downtown. I skate the same line pretty much every time I go out. Down toward the river, pass the hop silos, through the car dealership lot (great deals!) across Huff Street and under the bridge, downtown (haha) and so on. Regardless of which way I take it always ends at the same place. The east building of my old junior high school, with me walking around the building checking to see if any doors are open and looking through dusty cracked windows. The halls are a dream. Wrecked and piled with refuse. All I can think when I look through those windows is if I could just get in there with my camera and tripod.

So the nightmares started last night about the east building. I’ve had a lot of dreams about this building in the last few months but nothing malevolent about it. Really — the dream ended with me speaking to an entity called “The Core”. It wasn’t very nice.
So around I go. I had gained access to the renovated part of the east building a month ago. Devoid of all character. It had been chopped up nicely and efficiently. I want in the back end of the building where the auditorium and gymnasium still exists. The ruined hallways and dusty banisters. The red, white and gray striping on the walls. All those twisting little corridors weaving through the remains of that big beast. I suppose one day they will decide to knock it down and expand their parking lot. You’d think the two drunken letters that I’ve written to the building’s management company would garner some sort of sympathetic response. Just a little bit of the building superintendent’s time, please. For my own personal satisfaction and records.
A response remains to be seen.
Our list, in the middle of the street (now with sound!):
Ziggy Stardust, Seu Jorge
Lost Highway, Hank Williams
River Euphrates, Pixies
Let’s Turn Back The Years, Hank Williams
Good Old World (Waltz), Tom Waits
Mon Coeur Est Penetre D’epouvante, Caruso
The Black Rider, Tom Waits
My Old School, Steely Dan
“my old school” is a bit jaunty for the old haunted east bldg.
Yeah–pipe it through some old tinny speakers in an empty basement hallway–
so what did The Core have to say?