Having just returned from a four-week journey around Europe, I can finish my tenure as a Chronicle columnist with a fresh perspective on life. I now present to you all that I have gleaned from my sojourn à la Vonnegut's "Slaughterhouse 5," for there is simply no other way-despite the fact that it may turn out to be incoherent nonsense. Thus, I must begin: "This (column) is a failure, and had to be, since it was written by a pillar of salt."
Listen: Rod Feuer has come unstuck in time.
Rod has gone to sleep in his dorm room a neurotic wannabe Wall Street man and awakened at a thermal bath in Budapest, for he is spastic in time and space. Now he finds himself floating naked, liberated in Gellert's warm water, completely oblivious to his previous task of filling out summer internship applications while pulling out his hair-some of it already gray, of course.
"Where was I?" he asks himself, but soon finds that he really doesn't care; he's much more relaxed here than wherever he had been before. And to think that his Thai massage is only a few minutes away! Imagine fitting this into your daily routine, he thinks as he looks at the people around him before dipping his head underwater. And I thought the United States had everything going for it, he thought to himself as the water warmed his head; maybe Communism wasn't so bad after all.
When Rod resurfaces he is surprised to find himself staring at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel (fully clothed). Michelangelo sure did one hell of a job, he thinks, but then finds himself unsettled by it all. After all, Rod had seen quite a few grandiose churches throughout his life, and he had yet to figure out what purpose they served. How did oversized, ornate reliefs and sculptures help those seeking salvation? Guidance? Rod thinks that Freud would have reduced Christianity, or any other religion, to a "mine-is-bigger-than-yours" phallic contest. Yet he still raises his camera in awe and takes another picture.
So it goes.
Rod is sitting in a suit and across from him is another suited individual; it was an interview. Can you work in a team environment? Of course, he says as he brushes some lint off his trousers, he was used to working with people. Why do want this job? Because, he says, and delivers another polished reply with confidence. How much (of your life) are you willing to sacrifice for success? There is silence as Rod stares off into space.
Snapping back into reality, Rod finds himself in Budapest again sitting on a bench overlooking the Danube River. The girl he met the night before was sitting beside him. She barely spoke a word of English, and he not a word of Hungarian, but they had their dictionaries and the courage to try; then again, you don't always need words to communicate-just a little music.
Rod asks her what it was like growing up under Communism. Her answer: She was too young to really remember what it was like, so there wasn't much to adjust to when everything changed. As she talked Rod remembered that not too long ago, this sweet girl would have been "the enemy," someone behind the "Iron Curtain." What a bunch of B.S. governmental propaganda we were fed, Rod thinks to himself while reaching out to grasp her hand.
When Rod looks up again, he finds himself with his Luke Skywalker pajamas on, staring into his mother's eyes. It was way past his bedtime, but he wanted to stay up to see his father. Where's Daddy? His mother tells him that his daddy is still at work. When's he coming home? Late, honey, late-another car crash; he's in surgery. The clock strikes midnight and Rod feels his eyes shut slowly from exhaustion. Maybe he'll see him tomorrow night... so it goes.
Waking up, Rod realizes that the air has gotten colder; he's in Copenhagen now. He has just left the Ferrari exhibit and is now walking toward the erotic museum with his friend Alan. Along the way they see baby carriage after baby carriage been strolled along the sidewalks-some by women, some by men. Alan tells Rod that Scandinavia has the some of the highest fertility rates in the world. Judging by the "looks" of things, Rod tends to agree. Maybe socialism isn't such a bad idea after all he thinks as he sits down on a bench to rest his feet.
As his rear hits the seat, Rod finds himself sitting on a tram in Budapest, yet again. While talking to Alan the man next to him interrupts him. Ssshht! You: Shut up. You hear me? You shut up. Fly home. Fly back. You hear me? Fly home-back to America. Maybe capitalism isn't as great as I thought it was, Rod thinks, realizing that not everyone was as young as his new friend was when Reform moved into town. And then he watches the man make a hand motion like a airplane taking off. Rod faces the other direction.
When he turns around he finds himself sitting on an airplane obviously having taken the old man's advice. His destination: the Gothic Wonderland. He looks out the window and sees a flock of birds. One bird says to Rod Feuer: "Poo-tee-weet?"
Rod Feuer is a Trinity junior.
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