Humankind has been pissing me off since 1952. Of course, I have done a lot to piss h-kind off too. Being a pest, not being macho, not conforming to non-conformity etc. In elementary school it was the teachers, false friends, too much religion, and lousy family life. Then came high school and now it was prejudiced teachers, more bullies, false friends, and no friends. This time I had baseball, World War I history, blues music and the British Invasion to help me along. The latter 2 were used to piss off the faculty and some classmates. In the end, the problem was that I wrongly blamed athletes, especially football players, for all of my problems.
College came and I escaped to Marist College on Route 9 in Poughkeepsie. When reading the Harry Potter books 30+ years later, Hogwarts would remind me of Marist. Poughkeepsie was a relief from Brooklyn, the high school scum, and family. I also got a chance to piss off the preppies with crazy army surplus clothes, and plugging unknown rock artists like Big Brother, Cream, and John Mayall (who would all become the rage in due time). However, I no longer resented jocks since I became one myself (crew team) and got to know several in the dorms. This was too good to last since I got yanked out before the school could throw me out. Now it’s St. John’s University, living at home and a feeling of déjà vu. I still am nostalgic for Marist College and Poughkeepsie to this day. The fact that I no longer go to school on Route 9 is the source of the name Route9x (ex Route 9er, get it?).
St. John’s had it’s fraternities who dominated the social scene, and while football was not a big sport, the place reminded me of the bullshit that I went through in high school. Now I had a chance here to piss off the left by being conservative, the right for not being conservative enough, the fraternities by changing my mind about pledging one, and the sororities for being hung up on a sorority girl when it was unrequited. However, the Greek letter people pissed me off to no end, as did the university itself for 30+ years.
Then it was the Air Force. I was a draft dodger, since I beat them to it by enlisting. I really pissed off the home front by serving – being part of the fascist military establishment. However, the Air Force pissed me off because I felt that I could not be an officer when I wanted a career as one. However, just before I got out (early, after 3½ years) many of the officers were being booted out as a reduction in force.
Coming home meant a big readjustment, and it took a long time (another 3½ years). During this time I got a nice Irish born girlfriend, discovered the visual and performing arts, and traveled to Europe twice. When my Irish born girlfriend went back home I was back at square one. I decided to go back to college, at SJU. On the first night I crossed paths with my future wife and the groundwork was laid for some stability. I worked in the banking industry and that really pissed me off since I had to put up with bullshit from yuppies and WASP’s who had extra equal opportunity in equal opportunity institutions. I had begun to resent them from the days at Marist, so this put the final nail in the coffin. I still managed to piss off my bosses and coworkers and got fired 3 times in 9 years between 1980 and 1989.
On a happier note I got hooked again on baseball in 1983 (being only sporadically interested since 1963) and eventually would play again in softball leagues. During these 9 years between 1980 and 1989 I joined the local department and am still a member. The egomaniacs, blowhards, and prima donnas managed to piss me off to no end. However, the feeling is mutual since I do my best to piss them off in return, usually by one liners and subtleties.
In 1990 I became a parent for the first and only time. Unfortunately my daughter has autism, and what really pisses me off are those that think that it is a big joke. Let’s see how funny they think that it is if it happens to them!!!
Symbols have been important in my life for a long time. Heraldry captured my fancy in high school. Until I looked up my family’s and my wife’s family’s coats of arms in 1988, I made attempts to design my own, based on people, places and events I experienced. The same with flags: I designed my own personal flag It has a royal blue triangle, with black and white stripes, based on the colors on my family and my in-laws' coats of arms. The family arms coat of arms is the triangle. It has the same shape as the flag of the Czech Republic. Being a bit eccentric, my favorite geometric figure is the triangle, so the flag also salutes the Iron Triangle near my old stomping grounds.
Numbers also play an important role. The number 43 is actually 4 and 3, for the two greatest Yankees I never saw play (Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig). 43 also is a contraction for 133, my fire department badge number. Then there is number 8 in tribute to the four different baseball legends who exemplify the best about the game: Yogi Berra, Gary Carter, Willie Stargell, and Cal Ripken Jr. 8 also plays an important in the New York City subway system (being a subway buff, this is important). There are several stations named 8th Street and 8th Avenue, along with the 8th Avenue subway. Subways and baseball formed two important havens in high school.
Colors are important. Blue and gold are my family arms’ colors, and were also the colors of my elementary school which closed in June 2009. I am also fond of blue and orange - the colors of the City of New York, Nassau County, and my favorite major league baseball team, the New York Metropolitans, who play across the street from the Iron triangle. This web-page has the text in orange on a blue background; this is based on the New York City flag.
The Masonic order also is full of symbols. Since I am not a member of the order, I don’t have access to most of their meaning. However, I read that the ‘G’ in the compass supposedly stands for Geometry. Geometry uses symbols, including the triangle. It also was a subject that served as an interest in sophomore year of high school (as did trigonometry in junior year). The Shriners, a part of the Masons, captured my fancy since the NY World's Fair days, thanks to their Middle Eastern themed garb and symbols. This was before the present strife in the region.
Marist College and by extension Poughkeepsie represented an escape from the chaos of home, the neighborhood, and high school. Rock and roll music was the chief opiate while there. Since I was not there for too long, and what took its place when I returned home was chaos, I will always have a nostalgic feeling for Marist College, Poughkeepsie, and the Hudson Valley.
The map below features the Poughkeepsie Masonic Lodge, combining an order with interesting symbols and a city that was a symbol for freedom and a new chance, even if only for 8 months.
