Visiting Jacki

Jacki recently moved a bit farther outside of Columbus, with Andy. He’s a great guy, and I got to meet him on Sunday. The house is gorgeous, and Jacki showed me all the work that Andy’s put into the place (and all he’s planning to do). This is a shot of him with his grandson Jake.

Hanging out with Devin, Jacki’s boy. We played a great deal of video games together, back in Columbus. Towards the end of my visit, he kept pleading with me to go see "Goldmember" with him. He’d already seen it twice, but wanted to go again. He actually begged me, falling down on the floor and grabbing my feet.

I know he was trying to make me feel bad, but still… it made me realize how long I’d been away. Devin is a fantastic kid, and I would be honored to be able to see his progression into the creative, energetic, good intentioned man he is destined to become. I need to visit Columbus more, and spend more time with Jacki, Devin and Andy.

Devin is all impulse, and all about the moment. It makes me feel young to be around him, and to draw from that spontaneity.

Don’t tell anyone this but… at times, Devin makes me feel like a father. Or, at the very least, what a father could be capable of.

Group shot. Me, Jacki and Juliet.

You might laugh at this (lord knows I did). But if it’s hot outside, just try and tell me you wouldn’t want a big washbasin full of cold water from the garden hose. It’s a little slice of Heaven!

Plain City
by Felix Jung

for Roger Mitchell

The sign by the road is an invitation:
Next Exit, Plain City. I’m on my way
to Columbus, East on I-70. One arm
is on the wheel, the other dangles
out the window like a broken wing.
The radio is soft. I’m alone. Some cars
leave the highway’s artery, the sound
of tires as they yawn against the ground.
The sun’s gone dull, and the few stars
overhead are lulling me to sleep. I sing
to stay awake, Bob Dylan’s jingle-jangle
keeps my thumbs in synch. The farms
along the road are resting from the day.
I’m almost home. The night is almost done.

On my way home, I drove back and forth to get a good shot of the "Plain City" sign. Took me forever, having to exit and re-enter the highway numerous times. I’ve made the trek into Columbus numerous times, and I always pass by Plain City. I wrote this poem about 3 years ago, and decided I wanted a good image to go along with it.

On the way home, it rained a good deal. As I was passing through Indiana, I was tempted to stop by and visit my parents. For a good part of the day, I was extremely sad. A big part of it had to do with seeing old friends, seeing how much had changed, and trying to figure out where I truly belong. Chicago? Columbus? Somewhere else?

Despite the good parts of the weekend, a very large feeling of depression settled over me on Sunday… lasting through Monday night. What I imagined was a return to my grad school life was really a realization of how much things were changing. While I had fun with old friends, I also learned that I may never see many of them again.

I was sad, and felt that if I saw my folks… I’d just get sadder.

I kept driving, straight through until Chicago.

Sweet home, Chicago.