Zombie Christ Day
Monument Avenue is consumed! On this, the day of Christ's Resurrection , the reverent piety of annual-church-goers and the capitalism of flower vendors are out in force. A friend offers me a ride home from work, despite his tank reading: "E." Exiting Carytown, I note that there are a lot of people out. My immediate or initial understanding of "a lot" soon falls short of reality. The weather is nice and people are enjoying it, my friend says. Of course there are people out. It's a sunny Easter day.
The sun washes the stress from my brow. A smile brims, stretches across my face. S.A.D. must exist. That or I.A.D. The I being for "indoor." We're on Boulevard, taking a right to Monument. The street slowly reveals a small crowd, and little bands of people walking together, all in the same direction. A church sits, its parking lot full, to our right. The reasonable assumption here is that these people are getting their fill of Christ for the year.
We approach the increasingly saturated epicenter of the event. Mariachi bands blare through mounted speakers. There are bands on rich people's porches. I bet they're getting paid by the people that live there. The houses on this street can cost well upwards of my ceiling concept of money. One-hundred-thousand. Two, three, four. Multi-million.
Someone pulls out in front of us, almost crushing our right headlight. My friend is completely justified in yelling, "It's a red light, you dummy." It is a red light for them, yet I am surprised to see him shove it in their face while respecting the crowd. I respect him for a moment then remember the face of a kid found stealing cookies in some video we watched in my Child Pysch class. This kid, maybe 4 or 5, happily reaches for cookies when he realizes he is caught-- he begins crying and bolts from the kitchen). He shakes his head. When there's this much going on around you, and you're a woman, he tells me, you suck at driving. I'm amazed at his driving discipline right now-- he has been taking shots and smoking pot all day at work. To help kill the stress.
We come to the newly appointed "end" of Monument, roadblocks and cops halting our passage. Not to mention thousands of people. I tell my friend he can let me out here and go. You sure? Yeah, and I thank him for the ride. I filter through the crowds with inclined difficulty. I make the mistake of crossing to the other side of the street, the side to my apartment.
I walk, alone, against human traffic. Everyone is smiling and having a good time. And I am smiling. Holidays feel natural, I just wish they had a better cause. Either way, it feels good. I turn onto Meadow, and then on Grace, and walk into my apartment, thinking Easter's alright, even if Christ is a Zombie.
