This is Romeo’s world and we’re all just living in it.
1941 N. 4th Street, Columbus OH, 43201- 4:21PM
Is location limited to geography? Syntactically, the answer must be no- location is an extremely broad term while “limited” negates its broadness- it is an oxymoron. Similarly, location can be thought of as an oxymoron- it is both the space around a subject and the subject’s usage of that space. In other, less pretentious realms, we can say that location must involve a thing or person that is being located whereas geography implies a general environment. Geographically, my tiny planet is composed of the outdoors: 4th Street to be exact. However, its location is that of the front lawn of mine and Romeo’s multiplex, in front of Soussey Market, in the afternoon.
I am connected to this street, this peculiar place I have called home for the past year. Home, I have found, is analogous with routine. Their venn diagram, I presume, is a perfect circle. Rituals, unsurprisingly, can neurologically be described via many of the same mechanisms that dictate spirituality. My daily prayers begin when I wake up, walk down the stairs and fill up my dog’s food bowl. He will plead with me to give him something resembling anything other than the grayscale round pebbles comprising his kibble. I will pull some leftovers out of the fridge and make him a kibble/french fry/cheeseburger casserole. I will think to myself, “that should hold him off for a couple minutes.” Later in the day, I will walk across the street to the convenience store. There will be one of three gentlemen working- either the owner or one of his two sons- depending on the time of day. When I walk in, I will immediately head towards the refrigerators housing the juices; I will grab two cans of guava nectar and at least 6 packages of twoforadollar halal gummies. I will lazily head to the counter. I will ask one of the three gentleman for blunt wraps: “for tobacco purposes,” I will say. He will smile. I will smile back. I will complain about the 80 cent card fee. He will smile again. I will say thank you in Arabic, he will say, in Arabic, goodbye. I’ll walk back across the street. My dog will be waiting for me at the front window. (And I will pray again soon.)