Night School – Stream of Consciousness Saturday- 9/26/2025

When I began college, it was as a night school student, not as a daytime student. And I could not afford to live in a dorm or an apartment. I was living in a small house in front of the big loft building where my old carving studio had been. The little two-room building offered a compact work space, bathroom, and living/ sleeping space. It was only me and my big grey cat Clancy ( AKA The Grey Menace). Alongside was a plot where I had a small garden for tomatoes, squash, and other food items.

Working days and going to school nights, I eked out an existence running from semester to semester. It was a curious situation. The loans ran from the beginning of the semester to the end. At the end of the semester, I finished paying the loan for that semester. Things were literally hand-to-mouth. Everything was cooked on a two-burner hotplate or the small hibachi grill outside. My father regularly shipped up whole filet mignon that kept Clancy and me in protein. And no, we didn’t eat a lot of prepared or canned goods. Too costly. I made my family Spanish rice or chile con carne from scratch frequently. The nearest grocery store was about a mile walk. I had no car, and everything had to be carried.

Entertainment was an AM clock radio ( yup, no FM band) and my guitar. I was too poor for a TV. And if I wanted to catch the news on TV, I walked to the bar/ restaurant in Somerville to watch.

Midnight at the Switching Yard

Now this appealing little hideaway was convenient to a Boston and Maine Railroad switching yard—right next door. I was so used to it that the slam, bang, grumble, and creeks did not bother me in the least. Hell, I had slept aboard an aircraft carrier in the Navy with entire squadrons of planes taking off and landing. Little would keep me from sleeping. But it was the rare girlfriend who would stay over more than one night. More than one of my girlfriends jumped out of bed with loud eekes and cries of panic as a switching engine began moving cars around at four in the morning.

The Bon Vivant Cat

What about my cat? He had a few girlfriends in the neighborhood. I’d feed him on the steps evenings during the warm part of the year, and one of his girlfriends would stroll on over for a casual dinner, light conversation, or romance afterwards. He was quite the bon vivant, cat about town, “more filet my dear? Waiter! Service, please!”

Eventually, I moved on to going to school days and living a more conventional lifestyle, but every time I drive by the old loft building ( it still stands), I think about those days by the switching yard.