Six months ago, my son called me and said, “Dad, there’s this opening for a class that is going to be held in Rome and Florence Italy in May. What do you think? Its kind of expensive, and I am not certain I want to do it.” Italy? May? “Plus I have a girlfriend who is graduating who wants me to stay around, he said.”
Without a thought, I said, “you are going”.
Five months later, it is time to make his travel arrangements and as usual with college kids communication is somewhat of a problem. After going back and forth trying to sort out travel plans with him and not reaching him in a timely fashion, I decide to just make the plans for him. I did. The plan was he would fly into Rome for his class, but after his class ended he had to find his way through Europe over the next month to Stockholm whence his return flight to Boston originated at 6 AM. Where he went and how he got there in the month leading up to departure was his to decide. He had Eurail for all of Europe.
May comes around and he returns from college for a week and finally it is time for departure. I stood watching as he went thru security. He was kind of like a deer in headlights, excited but scared.
His first emails were, Italy is great. Great food, great weather, great architechure. Then he stopped emailing. As the time approached for his return I heard from him and everything sounded OK. The challenge would be to get to the airport on time.
So, he made it to everyones relief and after awhile I asked him, “where was your favorite place?” Without hesitation, he said to me, “Berlin”. “Why”, I asked. “I need to tell you a story to explain how cool and crazy Berlin is to you dad”. He says to me, “I was staying in a hostel, not far from Humboldt University, and I was meeting all of these characters. It was great. Just amazing. One day, a friend who I had come to know comes out walking around Berlin with me in the early afternoon. As we are walking down the street, one of the streets in an area I won’t disclose, he spies a manhole on the street, a short distance down the block. When we get to the manhole, my friend stops me, reaches down, and opens the manhole cover! I looked at him like he was nuts. He says to me, “ go down into the sewer, then go down in this direction a short distance and turn left at the first opportunity, and walk until you find the glass door.” Crazy. But, I trusted him, so I descended into the sewer! When I got to the bottom 25 feet or so down, I looked up at my friend staring at me through the open manhole, and he is pointing to me to walk in a certain direction. “Go that way, and turn left, go to the glass door”. So, off I went through the sewers of Berlin. After a short distance I came to the intersection and went left and then to my amazement, up ahead was a glass door. I opened it, walked in, and discovered an underground RAVE going on. There were 6 disc jockeys, a couple of temporary bars set up and pure madness inside. Girls started coming up to me wanting to know, why wasn’t I dancing, naked and consuming substances I have no idea of like they were. I have no idea how long I was there,—when I got home --or how I got home. Crazy and Nuts. It was just unbelievably fun. It is probably still going on, only you couldn’t find it without someone who knows. That’s the mystery, you can’t find it by looking for it.”
I smiled a really really long time. Remember the 60s? The spirit still lives.
Posted by on 07/11 at 09:07 PM
Comments:
This horrifies me. This is way beyond the 60’s .Wild!
Remember the 60’s
Six months ago, my son called me and said, “Dad, there’s this opening for a class that is going to be held in Rome and Florence Italy in May. What do you think? Its kind of expensive, and I am not certain I want to do it.” Italy? May? “Plus I have a girlfriend who is graduating who wants me to stay around, he said.”
Without a thought, I said, “you are going”.
Five months later, it is time to make his travel arrangements and as usual with college kids communication is somewhat of a problem. After going back and forth trying to sort out travel plans with him and not reaching him in a timely fashion, I decide to just make the plans for him. I did. The plan was he would fly into Rome for his class, but after his class ended he had to find his way through Europe over the next month to Stockholm whence his return flight to Boston originated at 6 AM. Where he went and how he got there in the month leading up to departure was his to decide. He had Eurail for all of Europe.
May comes around and he returns from college for a week and finally it is time for departure. I stood watching as he went thru security. He was kind of like a deer in headlights, excited but scared.
His first emails were, Italy is great. Great food, great weather, great architechure. Then he stopped emailing. As the time approached for his return I heard from him and everything sounded OK. The challenge would be to get to the airport on time.
So, he made it to everyones relief and after awhile I asked him, “where was your favorite place?” Without hesitation, he said to me, “Berlin”. “Why”, I asked. “I need to tell you a story to explain how cool and crazy Berlin is to you dad”. He says to me, “I was staying in a hostel, not far from Humboldt University, and I was meeting all of these characters. It was great. Just amazing. One day, a friend who I had come to know comes out walking around Berlin with me in the early afternoon. As we are walking down the street, one of the streets in an area I won’t disclose, he spies a manhole on the street, a short distance down the block. When we get to the manhole, my friend stops me, reaches down, and opens the manhole cover! I looked at him like he was nuts. He says to me, “ go down into the sewer, then go down in this direction a short distance and turn left at the first opportunity, and walk until you find the glass door.” Crazy. But, I trusted him, so I descended into the sewer! When I got to the bottom 25 feet or so down, I looked up at my friend staring at me through the open manhole, and he is pointing to me to walk in a certain direction. “Go that way, and turn left, go to the glass door”. So, off I went through the sewers of Berlin. After a short distance I came to the intersection and went left and then to my amazement, up ahead was a glass door. I opened it, walked in, and discovered an underground RAVE going on. There were 6 disc jockeys, a couple of temporary bars set up and pure madness inside. Girls started coming up to me wanting to know, why wasn’t I dancing, naked and consuming substances I have no idea of like they were. I have no idea how long I was there,—when I got home --or how I got home. Crazy and Nuts. It was just unbelievably fun. It is probably still going on, only you couldn’t find it without someone who knows. That’s the mystery, you can’t find it by looking for it.”
I smiled a really really long time. Remember the 60s? The spirit still lives.
Comments:
This horrifies me. This is way beyond the 60’s .Wild!