2004-06-14 - 1:59 a.m.

After six years of Catholic school, nuns chasing me around with rulers if I didn't apply myself, I found myself at the extremely tender age of twelve or thirteen, attending public school at Boston Latin (an exam school), and despite my extrodaniry prowess in the field of academics, I didn't do well there (because I didn�t apply myself).

I had to go to summer school.

Which I did, and it was fine, but it's not like Latin kids got their own summer school.

So I went to the closest school in my area that was having summer school, and it was in a bad area (which is now not bad anymore).

I was used to taking the bus my whole life, but to this place I got dropped off and picked up every day.

I ended up getting the best score out of everyone in the class, and it was the last day of class and the teacher let us out early.

Which was great for everyone but me, since that meant a couple of hours with no ride.

I borrowed a quarter off of a kid who was wearing a t-shirt with a rasta Bart Simpson on it--Bart was saying in a cartoon balloon it�s a black thing you wouldn�t understand, but before I could get to the payphone to call my parents, the kid asked for his quarter back.

So I walked home.

A better way to put it is that I guessed my way home. That's where I learned three valuable things: that I have an excellent sense of direction, and that�s also where I learned that I really do like to walk. And I also learned one of the finest lessons I've ever had the privilege of learning.

I walked home, and we�re not talking the bus route / main streets. This place was far away from my house, and I walked for a long time, freaking out but knowing I was okay if I saw a landmark here or there, I saw that once, and I figured out how to navigate semi-known territory that day, and I learnt it good.

But as I was walking, I thought to myself soon this will be over, and I�ll be home and playing Dragon Warrior that I rented from VideoSmith, and I won�t be thinking about this walk anymore.

And then I got home and played Dragon Warrior, and I forgot about the whole ordeal because fortune smiled upon me.

Today the Roommate and I walked from Somerville to West Roxbury.

That�s 4--City on maps.yahoo.com where 1 is some guy�s bedroom window and 10 is the world.

That was a nice walk too, and we got cold Bud drafts at the Gallway house (best Bud drafts in the city).

The last few dregs of the walk were unbearable. Pointing out things about Roslindale just weren�t that great in the face of the slight yet unbearable incline given to us by Bellgrade Ave.

But we persevered, and all of a sudden, we were in West Roxbury, where it was over and we got taken care of.

My ma is a cafeteria lady. She was when I went to high school (Catholic, again, and I applied myself there), and she left that job when my brother got denied the same deal I got (and he ended up to graduate at the top of his class, and my family paid every dollar of it).

She�s a cafeteria lady at a ritzy high school where the kids live there and pretend they�re in college, and I could tell you stories, but all I need to say is that there�s a thirteen day stretch where she works and then that�s the end.

But they serve lobster at the end, and she gets to take a couple home.

I keep in touch with my ma--I talk to her, and she invited me home for some lobster and I said no �cause I didn�t want to infringe but then realized it was more of one of those I want to see my son right now deals and so that was our walk.

And when that walk was done, there was no memory of it--or there wouldn�t have been except that my Dad and later my Ma and later my aunt Tina all asked about it. They were amazed. My dad drives five blocks to the convenience store that would take two blocks to walk down.

We ate the fruit of my ma�s labor on that wonderful back porch--the only drama was over whether to eat inside or out, and I requested out (I think my dad would rather more days outside and was glad to have an ally) lobster and chicken and sausage and steamers and store bought potato salad with an apology.

The Roommate and I hadn�t ate so well in quite a long time.

I sang for my supper--got a few jokes in, and we got chauffeured home with leftovers.

We were there two, maybe three hours. It was really nice. My dad taught me, quite graphically, how to eat a lobster (when he was dating my ma he ordered his first one and the waitress came by every now and then to help and encourage him), we got to see my family when it wasn�t a holiday, we got a good walk in to kick off the summer, and we forgot about the walk once we got settled in.

I might not have gotten to play Dragon Warrior (you can never go back), but I when I threw away the middle of that lobster, I quite readily dispatched the green slime.