Venice on the Scioto — 2010 version, by Darren W. Alexander
Rosa holds her accordion high above Bicentennial Park. From where I sit, it looks like it levitates over the Columbia Gas of Ohio building. The accordion looks like one of those cigar boxes I have at home, the one with the Plymouth Indians smoking Cuban cigars.
I stare at her as she plays. Suddenly, I’m in a trance, and in this trance-induced world, I’m on a gondola. Perhaps I’m in Venice, though in the distance, I see the Lincoln-Leveque tower and the Santa Maria replica by the Broad Street Bridge. As we pass the Santa Maria, Rosa sings this beautiful aria, and even though she sings in English, I hear these love songs in Italian.
In the midst of this dream, I’m transported to Gdansk, Poland, except in the city center are Cleveland’s Terminal and Key Bank towers. Polka music blares, and it reminds me of that much-hated Rotary Club in Parma, where my parents forced us to go every weekend during our youth. The dancers wore plastered smiles, and the conductor looked like Lawrence Welk made in Satan’s image. I dance along, even though I hate polka with a passion. As I dance, water from Lake Erie and the Cuyahoga River flood the room. I’m 10 feet underwater and drowning even further. Gondolas swim overhead while I sink further to the lake floor as I sway to this stupid Frank Yankovic music.
“Rosa, stop this crazy music,” I scream, but she keeps segueing into Drew Carey’s “Moon over Parma.”
Rosa finally stops and I awaken from this dream.
“Love it?” she inquires
“It was lovely,” I tell her as I stifle a sigh.
“Shall I play more?”
“No,” I say as I rise up. I give her a peck on the cheek, then walk north on Civic Center Drive, past the 50 state flags, to Broad Street. At the bridge, I look north toward the confluence, where the Scioto and Olentangy meet. Gondolas race past the Long Street Bridge toward the Santa Maria. On one of them, the accordion player sings, though I can’t tell whether he’s singing Italian stanzas or paying homage to Cleveland’s answer to the late John Candy’s polka-playing character, Yosh Shmenge.
Reprinted from the Write around Portland summer 2007 anthology, “Unexpected Metaphors” © 2007, by Darren W. Alexander, All Rights Reserved.