February 10, 2004


Road Island

In elementary school they make you believe that spelling and grammar are what it's all about. To be smart you have to learn these things and be good at them. I've come to realize that that's all bullshit. Elementary school teachers are mostly the same useless types that go to copyediting class.

When I was maybe three my parents took to to see Pink Floyd's The Wall, when the scene came with little British school children going through the meat grinder I puked on my shoes. I suppose that at that moment I knew what was to come.

Copyeditors are the same little kids who were teacher's pet and stars of the class. It turns out it all counted for nothing! Now they get to sit alone counting page numbers and checking the table of contents. In class they still give the teacher beaming, dumbfounded looks and when a question is asked they shoot their hand up. Their answer will be a meaningless phrase recited straight from the book, "Copyediting is the three c's, correctness, cohesiveness, clarity, and consisitancy."

Road Island, yes I know it's Rhode Island. I've seen it there on the map a thousand times and on the weather beaten sign as you cross the state line "Welcome to Rhode Island". But in my head it's Road Island and I am in the passenger seat of a dented blue station wagon with fake wood on the sides. It's summer and I'm ten. The window is cracked and the soft wind makes my hair dance. My eyes are on the sand dusted road; in this state the asphalt fades right into beach--Road Island. We ride by mountainous dunes, spotted with straight green weeds and reined in by nothing more than a flimsy wood fence that falls and rises like a crooked smile. At the horizion there is a blurry spot of darkened blue. The ocean.

Posted by on February 10, 2004 10:15 PM