Teach
03-18-2008, 08:51 PM
The place seemed to sweat. Yet, it could also be cold, harsh, and austere. Unforgiving. Foreboding. Yet kind, loving and embracing. Some parts reminded me of a fancy English Men’s Club; others the catacombs of ancient Rome. And, there were all shades in-between. On the one side, you could see the beckoning Atlantic Ocean; on the other, the stark silouhette of the Boston skyline. It was like what Mark Twain reportedly said about New England, "If you don’t like it...wait a minute." Above all, it was a enigima, a riddle and a conundrum, all wrapped into one. It was...It is...a place called Suffolk Downs in East Boston, MA. Only we called it: "Sufferin' Downs," or simply, "Suff." Oh, I know it well. On second thought...do I really?
When you give human qualities to inanimate objects it’s called personification. Well, I’ll give a human being the qualities of inanimate objects. Oh, the inanimate and the real would meet. One day. I’d even act as a facilitator.
She was as complex a human being as I’ve ever met. Hard as a rock. Yet, soft and supple as a fluffy, throw pillow. As dirty and disgusting as the seat on a commode at a public restroom; yet, as refined as pure granular sugar. As bright and illuminating as 100-watt bulb, yet as dim as a chunk of coal in the depths of a mine. Her name: Sue DeRoisiers, or simply, Sue D.
You’d know Sue if you met her. How could you forget! I knew immediately that this was someone quite different. Unusual. It was as if we were all pieces of iron pyrite and Sue was the magnet. But, just like that — Sue could reverse polarity.
I first met Sue at a party at her house. Sue had a way of attracting men like the Sirens in Homer’s Odyssey. Frankly, it was hard to forget her. But that was the mystery. You really weren't sure what you were forgetting or remembering. Sue, depending on her mood, could dress like "the fashionable, well-dressed woman," or a hobo or hippie, or someplace in between. You rarely saw her real hair. She had a varietry of wigs to fit her mood. Yet, she could make you feel like the only man on the face of the earth; she could also, depending on her mood, make you feel like a despicable piece of trash.
In hindsight, Sue was likely (I ain’t no "shrink") a manic-depressive (you know: bi-polar). She may have also been dissociative (multiple personality). Frankly, you didn’t know which Sue you were going to get. Even throughout the course of an evening she might demonstrate several different selves or "alters". Talk about karma chameleon.
That first night I met her I was enthralled; it was like the first time I visited a racetrack. She immediately impressed me as being exciting, bubbly and enthusastic. She seemed to have no constraints or inhibitions. So open. So receptive. There was something about her. Something intangible. Alluring. Yet, the one thing that immediately caught your attention was her face — angelic. She truly looked like a goddess. Her face would haunt you. You’d see her...everywhere. You’d think about her.
Yet, she was not glamorous;the rest of her, that is. She had what I'd call a Rubenesque figure. OK..pleasantly plump. Oh, she was also extremely well endowed. Voluptuous. And when she wore a tight sweater, she could cause even the most flaccid of men too suddenly find that their private parts, just south of the Equator, had suddenly been "spray-starched." In fact, one of Sue’s friends told me the story that when she was in high school she came to class one day in this tight red sweater. According to the friend, this old, crotchety teacher, nearing retirement, who had been lecturing his students in the front of the class, had to suddenly beat a hasty retreat and "hide" behind his desk.
Yes, I would date Sue on and off during 1968. I say off an on because there were times I loved being with her, yet other times... Well, I just couldn’t deal with her. There were stretches where I'd see her for weeks on end; and then, there were periods of time I wouldn't see her for a month or more. If I caught her at the right time, we’d have a wonderful evening; if I didn’t....
I do remember one evening I took Sue to....(to be continued).
When you give human qualities to inanimate objects it’s called personification. Well, I’ll give a human being the qualities of inanimate objects. Oh, the inanimate and the real would meet. One day. I’d even act as a facilitator.
She was as complex a human being as I’ve ever met. Hard as a rock. Yet, soft and supple as a fluffy, throw pillow. As dirty and disgusting as the seat on a commode at a public restroom; yet, as refined as pure granular sugar. As bright and illuminating as 100-watt bulb, yet as dim as a chunk of coal in the depths of a mine. Her name: Sue DeRoisiers, or simply, Sue D.
You’d know Sue if you met her. How could you forget! I knew immediately that this was someone quite different. Unusual. It was as if we were all pieces of iron pyrite and Sue was the magnet. But, just like that — Sue could reverse polarity.
I first met Sue at a party at her house. Sue had a way of attracting men like the Sirens in Homer’s Odyssey. Frankly, it was hard to forget her. But that was the mystery. You really weren't sure what you were forgetting or remembering. Sue, depending on her mood, could dress like "the fashionable, well-dressed woman," or a hobo or hippie, or someplace in between. You rarely saw her real hair. She had a varietry of wigs to fit her mood. Yet, she could make you feel like the only man on the face of the earth; she could also, depending on her mood, make you feel like a despicable piece of trash.
In hindsight, Sue was likely (I ain’t no "shrink") a manic-depressive (you know: bi-polar). She may have also been dissociative (multiple personality). Frankly, you didn’t know which Sue you were going to get. Even throughout the course of an evening she might demonstrate several different selves or "alters". Talk about karma chameleon.
That first night I met her I was enthralled; it was like the first time I visited a racetrack. She immediately impressed me as being exciting, bubbly and enthusastic. She seemed to have no constraints or inhibitions. So open. So receptive. There was something about her. Something intangible. Alluring. Yet, the one thing that immediately caught your attention was her face — angelic. She truly looked like a goddess. Her face would haunt you. You’d see her...everywhere. You’d think about her.
Yet, she was not glamorous;the rest of her, that is. She had what I'd call a Rubenesque figure. OK..pleasantly plump. Oh, she was also extremely well endowed. Voluptuous. And when she wore a tight sweater, she could cause even the most flaccid of men too suddenly find that their private parts, just south of the Equator, had suddenly been "spray-starched." In fact, one of Sue’s friends told me the story that when she was in high school she came to class one day in this tight red sweater. According to the friend, this old, crotchety teacher, nearing retirement, who had been lecturing his students in the front of the class, had to suddenly beat a hasty retreat and "hide" behind his desk.
Yes, I would date Sue on and off during 1968. I say off an on because there were times I loved being with her, yet other times... Well, I just couldn’t deal with her. There were stretches where I'd see her for weeks on end; and then, there were periods of time I wouldn't see her for a month or more. If I caught her at the right time, we’d have a wonderful evening; if I didn’t....
I do remember one evening I took Sue to....(to be continued).