Yvonne Shafer, a professor of mine at Ohio State (I know, I should say THE Ohio State University, their official branded name), once likened a decrepit building she saw to the original set for Arthur Miller’s Death of a Salesman, as designed by Jo Mielziner for the 1941 Broadway premiere.
I thought that look would also be suitable for a play about the rooming house I lived in in Columbus while attending OSU. While I could go into a lot of details (making it a full-length play), I’ll just give you some brief character sketches of my neighbors in that particular dwelling.
On the first floor lived a young woman. In the two years I lived there, I never saw her. Not once. However, I often heard her baby crying. At times, I might describe it as a colicky baby. If I wrote about my experience as a sonata rather than a play, the baby would be the wailing saxophone that comes in and out of the music.
I lived on the second floor, in a studio apartment. I had one room for my desk, dresser, dining table (aka card table), and bed, and then a second room with a kitchen and closet—the balcony had been converted for this purpose This was the largest living area on the second floor and I was lucky to grab it when I did, because I could cook all my meals here and not have to go to the basement common kitchen area. It was quite livable and very affordable for the $125 a month rent. (Those were the days, huh!)
Also on the second floor were three other rooms, each with an inhabitant, all with interesting stories. I’ll move clockwise starting from the room across the way.
In that room was an Indian graduate student; I believe he was studying Chemistry. One night he brought a woman home and had noisy sex, which was a bit annoying. More annoying was the night I was in bed, and awakened to a howling outside. It sounded like the tortured spirit of a murdered man. This grad student was coming home, walking up the street, and crying. He went to his room and called the woman on the phone to beg her to take him back, wailing as he spoke. That went on for a very long (and for me sleepless) time.
Moving to the next room was the Art graduate student, majoring in Glass. One morning I emerged from my room and found a giant boulder in the hallway. It measured about 4’ x 3’ x 3’, and looked like it had crashed from space. It only weighed a couple of pounds, and was a class project. I have to say that it looked very realistic so kudos to him. However, his lovelife was a mess, since he was smitten with a woman he took to a party and she spent the entire time with another guy. He told me about this and seemed to be asking for advice, but I had none to give. Also, he used to sweat inside his room while I froze in mine, since his vent was first in line from the heater. When I mentioned it to him, he closed his vent, and suddenly he was cooler and I was acceptably warm. Lesson: talk to your neighbors (just not about their love lives).
Next around the room came the communal bathroom which we never seemed to be in conflict over time and use, which was good. Then finally on that floor was a grad student from Nepal (I don’t know in what field) who would occasionally stop by and ask if I wanted to go to the movies with him. He meant the porno theater that showed things like Caligula (the X version). I declined. We also had a conversation once and, though I don’t recall the topic, I do remember him saying: “You just use a condom and it is okay.” Yes, you’d think I’d remember the context for that quotation.
Finally, upstairs was a Chinese grad student. Two things were notable about him. First, he owned a portable, non-electric typewriter which he would pound on (noisily) late into the night. Secondly, often during the week, the doorbell would ring about 10:55pm, and he would come running down the stairs, third floor to second, past my door, and second floor to first. He’d open the door and several voices would excitedly chant, “Benny Hill! Benny Hill!” Then three or more sets of feet would charge up the stairs past my door to the third floor where they would watch Benny Hill on a local TV station. And they would laugh….
For the most part, it was a comfortable and convenient place to live for the two years I spent in what Yvonne once referred to as “the social whirl that is Columbus.” And I had a wonderful time at the party I planned before my departure, which I titled, “The Goodbye Columbus Backyard Barbecue and Moving Away Party.” However, I did not shed a tear when I finally left it or my housemates for the last time.
MUSOFYR 