End of an Era

The last of the good time gamblers, degenerates and Carroll's bar frequenters will be leaving this snowy residential neighborhood (and city) for good. Many a marathon all night, day, weekend and week long sessions have taken place in this 10th Ward-transplant-flophouse. And even more marathon booze ridden dawns have been seen with ocean depth weary eyes. This apartment has been passed on through a dysfunctional loving 'family' of drunks and gamblers throughout the years, many of which were born and raised in the 10 Ward of Rochester, and I happen to be the last of an aging, lost network of family members. We have grown old(er), I have become sober and we have seen the world swirl past Sodus St. leaving us confused, playing catch up and still chasing, just not as hard. Broken windows (thanks Rob), my broken plant (thanks Rob), caved in sink (thanks again Rob) and broken hearts (I couldn't resist)-a typical Sunday afternoon on Sodus St. I lived here before I lived here and that is how I came to reside here. What I thought to be many years of wasted time, I still consider to be many years of wasted time, but I am quite sure I would do it all over again if I had the chance. I would hope I had the foresight to do it differently, but with the touch of wisdom I have accumulated over the years, I don't see it going any other way. Aging is a funny business and I am not sure how I feel about it just yet. I really loved living with everyone that ever haunted this place and the one who continues to live here. The last woman standing-she has inherited a fucked up history that I hope she does not carry on :) Sodus St. has not been SODUS St. in years, anyway.

These walls have not seen the booze, broads and cards for some years now, but I still sleep with trouble in the warm glow of cigarette smoke, the sound of chips clicking, and the night pressing and clawing at the windows-whispering me into the past.

With 10th Ward on my mind,

B.