My Summer as a Sherman Citizen
A decade (and a few months…) ago I finished my freshman year of college and got a summer job at what was then called ResNet. I figured it’d give me a chance to save some money and hopefully gain a little independence from my folks—as I recall my goal was to by all my books for the ’97–’98 year.
After getting the job, I had to find a place to live. I don’t remember now if I checked the classified ads or not, but I do know that I spent several afternoons walking around the neighbourhoods near AC looking for places to rent. I was actually getting quite panicky when a friend mentioned that his girlfriend was looking for a housemate for the summer, and so I ended up moving into 820 N. Crockett St. in Sherman, Texas. My parents were pretty upset; they thought I was shacking up with the girl. Which is pretty funny in hindsight: how could they be so clueless as to not notice that I simply don’t understand girls enough to have any success with them? But they sure were convinced I was going off to live in a den of iniquity. Sigh—I haven’t the luck!
It was a wonderful summer. I had no money to speak of ($4.75/hour, IIRC) and managed to spend, so I spent but $7/week on food. Back then Lipton Noodles ’n’ Sauce were 85¢ apiece; I’d buy 7 of them, leaving me $1.05 to splurge on a bag of pork rinds, or some sodas or whatever. I’d no car, so I couldn’t go anywhere my bike or feet couldn’t take me—and there’s nothing to in Sherman anyway. So I’d go to work, ride home at lunchtime to grab a granola bar or just relax, ride back to work, ride back home, make dinner, then relax on the back porch reading a book of philosophy, smoking a pipe and drinking a snifter of brandy.
I had to sit on the back porch, you see, because we didn’t run the air conditioner, as it was too expensive. The house baked like an oven; it was miserable inside. So I’d sit out back watching the sun set—it was a very nice time, actually.
Sometimes I’d walk to Sherman’s downtown
: motley
collection of lawyers, land agents and furniture stores. But that
summer a great little coffeehouse opened up, and the owner & I
would smoke cigars and discuss the world. Sometimes I’d walk by
the storefront black church, with the people
interjecting amen
, ah-huh
, hallelujah
&c. as
the preacher spoke. Or, if I had a little bit of extra money,
I’d get an ice cream cone at
the Braum’s.
I had two housemates: Lara & Alicia. Alicia was pretty unhappy to share a house with a guy, and a week or two after I moved in she moved out; we were fortunate enough to pick up another renter instead, a fellow named James. He was 24 or 26, in the master’s programme and was engaged: he seemed a very old man to us. After all, he’d actually worked after college!
Lara’s boyfriend—my buddy—was away in Mexico for the summer, and the girl I’d been pining after was home on vacation, so the two of us spent a good time moping. One time it got so hot inside that we walked downtown, then back home, and for some reason decided that starting a fire would be neat. So we did, on the sidewalk in front of the house. Not, perhaps, the best idea ever. She ended up marrying her boyfriend, and is now rather an accomplished photographer.
James had worked at a video store, so he had a huge library
of old display videos (they scroll THIS VIDEO NOT FOR RESALE
every five minutes or so, but are otherwise great); he even had the
uncut version
of Branagh’s Hamlet,
which was a treat. He had also been an actor, and had a tape of
perhaps the worst film ever, Gay TV, in which he played a
part. It was so bad that Lara & I pretended to be asleep halfway
through it. He’s now married and has a few daughters,
and teaches and
directs.
Sherman in the summer was something else; I actually grew to appreciate it. The city hosted concerts on the lawn of high school; a good chunk of the townsfolk would attend, and since many of them were faculty, staff or students one was sure to spot someone one knew. The few students in town bonded more than during the school year; parties which in term would have been quite exclusive were much more inviting. It was really nice; I’ve often wished that I’d spent the next two summers there. But of course, the internships I pursued instead led to the job I work now, which is what affords me the opulent lifestyle I enjoy, so I guess it all works out in the end.
All in all, that was an excellent summer. At the end of it, I was 140 pounds and in excellent shape from the combination of too little food and all my cycling. It was grand!
