surreality is my only option.

We liked a college, and that was new.

Now, “like” and “dislike” are terms that we have to keep in the strange and other-worldly perspective of tree-roots, zombies, and presence of treadmills in rec centers. But--keeping our somewhat clueless point of view in mind--we decidedly liked Manhattanville College. But, man was it a long trip for a short trip.

Trial By Keys: Helen (Jeff’s sister and our NYC host,) had Thursday obligations, so she left a set of keys (3) for us with her Upper West Side door people. We duly elevated to the 15th floor and spent the next 15 minutes trying all possible combinations of 3 (clockwise top, center widdershins, bottom clockwise, etc.) I don’t know why this was so difficult. Yes, I do, at least in part. It’s because Jeff didn’t like that I only allotted him a couple minutes to attempt to insert a key upside down and at a 45° angle, before I went back at it myself. The solution involved using Gabe’s ears to discern which deadbolt was giving off the telltale “locked” rattle and completely disregarding Helen’s handwritten intructions. So we got in. And it was a lovely day to walk across Central Park to our first school visit with Jeff trailing me and Gabe by 15 paces as his nose slowly got back into joint.

I increasingly perceive the two people for whom I’m primarily responsible as a couple of freighters, drifting at snail’s pace in opposite directions, but--for now--at a roughly similar (though not matching) latitude. Gabe can insert a key into a lock correctly, and discern whether or not it has turned. Jeff knows that we live in the town of [insert town name here ;)], and not Annapolis. Not so, vice versa. Gabe perceives (correctly, I believe) that Jeff attempts to interact with small children at an adjoining restaurant table in a way that is slightly creepy and intrusive. Jeff perceives (again, correctly) that Gabe is apt to insert “humorous” questions at awkward and not-ideal moments in the campus tour. They both rely on me to an almost burdensome and disconcerting extent. Neither wonders whether I know what I’m doing when we get off Amtrak at New York Penn and I lead us toward signs for the “A” subway line. They trust me unquestioningly and blindly. Were it up to Jeff, he would be lost in the confusion. Were it up to Gabe, he might very well say “ok...so what city are we in?” Neither can deploy his subway ticket at the turnstile magnetic strip reader correctly. Jeff cannot understand the concept at all, and I position him, slide his card, then pull him through. Gabe slides his through the one to his left instead of his right. Luckily it is not crowded and I am able, from the other side of the turnstiles, to redirect him through the now-unlocked lane.(The phrase which pops to mind when I think about Gabe--”What’s the frequency Kenneth?” Because the brain clearly works. But the wavelength on which its tuner is fixed? Unknown.)

The major thing that differentiates the two is this: One can be taught, and will--sooner or later--bumble into the shipping lane known as “growing up.” The other is drifting, albeit at glacial pace, into the seas of oblivion. In the meantime, if I could momentarily split into particles and waves, I’d like to test whether I would feel more alone with these two or without them, as in actually alone.

It is my hope that by sending Gabe away to college, he’ll stop defaulting to the assumption that I’ve got it covered, and recognize that there are a few more facets on the polyhedron of life he needs to take heed of. As for Jeff, I will be turning on the tv for him for as long as he remains interested in tv. (This remote is for the tv. Tune it to channel 3, then take this other remote, aim it at the cable tuner, and hit 053 for CNBC. Right.) Meanwhile, I am learning not to mind his hours in the kitchen chair, dozing or doing nothing.

But, as for the take home points most pertinent to the ostensible reason for the trip: Manhattanville College has a strong support program for LD students. They also have (in no particular order of importance) treadmills in the gym, nice not-so-preppy people, black squirrels, creative writing, a good-smelling cafeteria, and Japanese classes.

Oh, and we won a red and white pop-up chair from the admissions guy because I knew--in a quick q & a contest--that the school has 1600 undergrads.