So I was worried. But I resolved to start and it went okay. I memorized on the treadmill at the gym in Pristina. Would go there when it wasn't crowded—only some cops, a pop singer, her trainer, and a couple of elderly missionaries. At least, that's the roles I assigned to those people. Had no idea who they were really. But Pristina's got plenty of people who only rise to the level of their stereotype. Wasn't sure why the people in the gym should be any different. Anyways, after a few years, you start to recognize some folks for what they probably are.
Went to the gym because Pristina's a concrete town. Tried running on that concrete. Hurt my feet. Tried running in Mitrovica. Same problem. Whole place was paved, and then the pavement cracked apart. Revealing just enough cobblestone to trip over. Found that there was a whole third river buried under that town Mitrovica. Saw it through the cracks once. Would trip on the cracks, pound my soles on the street. Bruised toes and sore soles. Took a membership at the gym. Ran on the treadmill, but got bored fast. Would memorize to take my mind off of running, and vice versa. Boredom efficiently canceled. I appreciate efficiency. Didn't even mind when the pop star and her trainer stared at me, mumbling on the treadmill, repeating words about Apocalypse Town.
Wondered how my actor friends managed this. All the memorizing.
Took a vacation with my wife. Mount Olympus. It's still there. We drove up part of it, stayed in a small hotel. Tiny village, not even really a village anymore. Leftovers of a village that had mostly moved down the slope a couple miles. We looked out from snow-covered Mount Olympus down to the sunny beach. Road iced us in the first night. Got drunk the next night, New Year's Eve. Went for a hike New Year's Day. Slipped on the ice and hit the ground with the back of my head. Hit my head on Mount Olympus. Felt ... felt nothing, then felt a pain that was only a warning about the pain that was coming. Looked up at my worried wife and remembered her, but nothing else. We started walking again, this time to try and find a hospital. Didn't know where to find that. Thought to myself, “Remember Apocalypse Town,” but couldn't. Couldn't remember word one.
Walked four more kilometers to the town that had slid down the slope, but the town was closed for the holidays. Found a bar and the bartender called a taxi. Taxi took us to the clinic one town over. Clinic put a brace on my neck and sent me home. Said I probably had no concussion but was going to feel it that night. Clinic turned out to be right. Second taxi took us back to the base of the mountain, but wouldn't take us further on account of the ice. Started hiking. Spent eight upward kilometers testing my memory.
Tested it by reciting true stories about Apocalypse Town, true stories I had written down and memorized because I thought they were worth remembering in the first place. My wife listened. Told me I said them right. I realized it wasn't that hard to remember, because they were all mostly true.
Hated Mount Olympus ever after that.
- t
p.s. I love you, Kosovo music. Today's video selection is something a little bit different: a story about music as I know it in Mitrovica. If you want to know a little more about that town, you might watch the whole video. If you prefer to just know a little bit about a music project that I've devoted some time to over the past years, just watch the beginning till 1:17, then skip till the end at 8:10 for the last minute.
p.p.s. I love you too, Houston.
