Rolling Along

I’m having one of those slightly magical days that you have every once in awhile and as I sit here in the courtyard at Westfield House studying my list of words that occur more than 50 times in the gospel of Mark (actually as I stare up at the passing clouds), I’ve decided to write about my day rather than let it slip into the recesses of my increasingly cluttered mind.

This day revolves around music, as do so many of these neo-mystical days. This morning Becca left early for the Grand Opening of Becca's candy shop, where she exists as the assistant manager. I was hoping to go down there to see her and also my friend Robbie who was planning to don a giant Jelly Bean suit and dance around, delighting young lads and deliberately frightening slightly older lasses.

Though it be a Saturday, I had set my alarm, so as to not sleep the entire day away. However, my “alarm” was in fact was the radio, tuned to a classical radio station which not only prolonged my slumber but instigated deep REM sleep and a dream in which I insulted Robert Deniro because of my comments regarding of the high quality of Sean Penn’s acting ability.

Eventually I woke, read a little, had some tea and headed down to the city center. My plan was to stop at the candy shoppe then find somewhere to study. I loaded up my backpack and headed down, accompanied with the inspirational sounds of Arcade Fire’s first album Funeral. I always used to walk around with my ipod; back in ye olde days when the device was still a novelty to me. I have forgotten how much a soundtrack added to my life. This walk, which I had made dozens of times before, brought many more smiles to my face this time.

I arrived at the busy sweet shop and visited with Becca, unfortunately the Jelly Bean costume was malfunctioning that day.

I continued on my ramble through town down the cobblestones with Arcade Fire. I had been foolhardy in my idea of finding somewhere to study. On Saturday, Cambridge city center swells with tourists. The streets are absolutely jammed with people, no cars are allowed, and they become pedestrian only zone. I was heading toward St Michaels, an old church, half of which doubles as café on non-Sundays. I was walking down the middle of the street, daydreaming, looking at old statues, being annoyed at the congestion, when the sea of people parts and a man in a motorized wheel chair emerges, rolling toward me.

I stop. Regard the situation.

It is Steven Hawking.

There has been much news around town about how he is stepping down (figuratively) in his position at the University. I have not real affinity for Steven Hawking. I don’t know that I have an opinion about with one way or the other. But at that moment, he made me very happy. If that sea of people had parted and I had my choice of any person to step (or roll) though the multitudes, I don’t know that anyone else would have engender the same reaction. I mean if it had been one of my friends from back home, I would be really excited. But, with Steven Hawking, I don’t know, it was downright magical. It was like seeing an elf. Only a mythical or legendary creature could have produced the same sensation. Snuggle bear, an okapi, Aslan, to name a few. I felt like I had discovered Noah Ark.

Then I stepped to the left and he rolled by.

I continued on to eat a pizza, drink a beer, buy cookies, teas and wine, and walk home. And now I study, but I can take comfort in knowing that somewhere out there Steven Hawking in out there rolling around on the streets of Cambridge for the rest of us sinners.