When I live in new places I sometimes find myself wondering why the person (or people) who were here before me left. I'm usually ecstatic when I've found a kick ass place, which makes me think the previous occupants were idiots. That wasn't the case with Old Townley, but we don't need to re-live past memories... do we?
I haven't thought about it too much since I moved in here because I walked into a hell of a place. Got lucky, really lucky. In fact, today was the first time I had really reflected on who lived here before.
As Todd could tell you, I LOVE getting mail. Today's mail had my Verizon bill and yet another catalog for my loft's previous dwellant. I don't mind receiving catalogs, if they're interesting. But thinking about the catalogs that usually come here for dude, I finally know why he moved away.
He's a mountain man, Grizzly Adams, a potential moonshine coneseur... who, oddly enough, also loves to buy children's clothes. I presume for the fowl or the smaller animals that he kills. They gotta look good, too.
The city life was definitely not for him. Buses, fire engines, cars... bah! Concrete floors and exposed sprinkler systems weren't his gig. Walking to bars and nightlife in the River Market are not appealing... not to a man of the wood, that is. He needs to roam and run free, with guns and camouflage clinging to his body. Using deer scent and duck calls to communicate with his friends – dinner. He has gone mad, and drags a box of children's clothes in tow as evidence.
Yes, one could say that a man not to dissimilar to Howard Hughes once lived in my loft. Society's norms and morays could not mold him. Nature demolished nurture this time. Survival of the fittest is his creed, until he runs out of bullets. I fully expect him to come to my place one day, hoping to score a box of .22s on sale.
+ original post date: July 23, 2005 04:46 PM
+ categories: Dwellings