Perhaps I should take the concept of mapping out my geographical timeline a step further, treating it more scientifically. By isolating the variables more carefully, I’ll make the results more objective, and who knows what I’ll learn in the process. I can start by dramatically narrowing the criteria for the each point on the line. For example, I can write a timeline with points that correspond to precise shifts in my physical placement on the planet:
2 October, 1967
Born in a hospital in Chicago.
1967-?
Lived on the Southwest side (Scottsdale?) of Chicago until age 4 or 5.
197? – 1981
Back and forth between a house on 55th St. (near Main St.) in Downers Grove and a school/church near Webster and Highland streets.
Periodic trips, including: Rockville, Springfield, and Holland, Illinois; Crown Point, Indiana; Wisconsin Dells; Disneyworld, Florida; Hot Springs, Missouri; Detroit and Macinac Island, Michigan; Philadelphia; Washington, DC; New York; Los Angeles and San Diego.
1981-1982
Back and forth between the house on 55th near Main St. in Downers and a school/church in Lemont, Illinois.
A trip to Disneyworld, Florida.
1983-1985
Back and forth between the house on 55th near Main St. in Downers and a school on 63rd near Lemont Road.
Periodic trips including a visit to Hawaii.
1985-1989
Back and forth between the house on 55th near Main St. in Downers and a school on Michigan Avenue in Chicago.
Trips to Boston, New York, Atlantic City, Paris, San Francisco, and Washington, DC.
Winter, 1989
Back and forth between an apartment in the North of Chicago, a school on Michigan Avenue and an office on Grand Avenue.
A trip to New Orleans.
1989
Back and forth between an apartment on Glenwood Road in Brooklyn, an office near Times Square in Manhattan and a college on Avenues H and Bedford in Brooklyn.
Two trips to Willowbrook, Illinois.
1989-1990
Back and forth between an apartment on Newkirk Avenue and a college on Avenues H and Bedford.
Trips to England, Wales, Scotland, Ireland, Washington DC, Fire Island, and Asbury Park.
1990-1991
Back and forth between an apartment on 3rd St. in Manhattan, a college on Avenues H and Bedford in Brooklyn, a college in Downtown Brooklyn and a bookstore on 49th Street in Manhattan.
Trips to Willowbrook, Los Angeles, and Boston.
1991
Back and forth between an apartment on North Moore St. in Manhattan, a college on Avenues H and Bedford in Brooklyn, a college in Downtown Brooklyn and a high school in Bushwick, Brooklyn.
Trips to Upstate New York, Stuttgart, Strasbourg, Venice, Rome, Sienna, Pisa, Florence, Amsterdam, Berlin, Copenhagen, Stockholm.
Winter 1992
Back and forth between a flat on Richmond Road in East London and a college on the South bank of the Thames on Wandsworth Road.
Spring 1992
Back and forth between an apartment on Jones Street on Nob Hill in San Francisco and several offices on Market St.
A trip to Willowbrook.
1992-1993
Back and forth between an apartment on Landers St. in San Francisco and an office on Market St.
Trips to Hong Kong, Bangkok, Las Vegas, Yosemite, Napa Valley, Lake Tahoe, Nevada, Berlin, and New York.
1993-1994
Back and forth between an apartment on rue du Ruisseau in Paris, schools in the 5th, 2nd, and 6th arrondissements and an office in the 3rd arrondissement.
Trips to Frankfurt, Stuttgart, and Heidelberg, Germany; Nîmes, Arles, Montpellier, Marseille, Toulouse, Avignon, Perpignan, Mende, Lozère, Bourges, Nantes, Saumur, Rouen, and Dieppe, France; Westpoint, Manhattan, and Brooklyn, New York; Willowbrook, Naperville, Aurora, and Chicago, Illinois; Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minnesota; Indianapolis, Hammond, and Lafayette, Indiana; Atlanta, Georgia.
This is only a sketch for a much more detailed listing that might include exact dates, addresses, even the hours and seconds spent at each place no matter how seemingly insignificant. Another timeline might use geographical or mathematical coordinates to determine my position on the globe, ignoring labels like “country” and “neighborhood.”
Then there’s all that time spent in those non-places (cars, trains, airplanes) to think of as well. Where was I when I was “on the way” or “in the air?” Was I just “in the plane” or rather “somewhere over Kansas?” Does the location of the earth beneath a plane as it travels continue to have an impact on the events inside the aircraft? The answers to these questions will be crucial to mapping the data of my experience.
• • •
Dear Mom,
I’m making a timeline of my life, and the first couple of entries are the hardest because I always forget the exact info. We lived in which neighborhood and on which street? What was the year (and month if you know it) that we moved to Downers Grove? I know, I know: “How many times do I have to look up our family history for this kid?” This will not be the last time I forget, mom, but at least this time I’m going to type up the answers.
I’d stop on that light note, but I’ve got to be honest about something. There’s something that’s been bugging me. Did you happen to notice that every line I write to you is practically bent down at the edges with all the guilt? Yes, guilt over being so far away while you’re getting so much older and weaker. Selfishly, I pray I won’t be left with the burden of tending to the needs of your degenerating bodies, but I know there’s a good chance that the job will fall to me, and I haven’t a clue how I’ll handle it. You and dad are both going to die, and I’m afraid that you, mom, are going to be first. I pray that he’ll be fast and first so that you and I can have our coffee alone together, talking when we want, but keeping quiet sometimes too. I want to see you go out in one big creative explosion, just before you too succumb to whatever it is that we succumb to. Don’t be tired, mom. Don’t let him wear you down till there’s nothing left but aches and illness. It’s so selfish of me to ask you this, I know, but I ask you only because I hope it’s not too late to get to know you as I never was able to: you alone, not you as you must be in relation to him, the man who gave you his name and address and identity.
This is where I start saying things like, “It’s never to late to take a new lease on life” and “Even at 60 you can live the childhood you always dreamed of.” The problem is that I don’t really believe any of that. I see how you’re falling asleep in your potato chips near the television, and it’s too sad for me to think about right now when there’s nothing I can do about it here in Paris but type you this letter which I’ll never send.
Let’s just go back to the question that began my letter and forget the rest: When and where did you give birth to me? Why? And while you’re busy with all that, please tell me that story again, the one where you carry me in your belly through the Chicago snow drifts on your way home from work in the blizzard of ’67… For years now, I haven’t lived in a city where snow piles up, but I can still imagine those hot chocolates, the Christmas songs, the…