Other People's Dreams

Steve called me up and told me that he was living over by the Colliseum. "It's great," he said. "Being so close to history. John you should really see this." A few days later he sent me his new address in an email. I decided to go visit.

Of course I knew that the Coliseum wasn't in Binghamton, NY. How could it be, right? But I had heard the stories about the London Bridge being moved brick-by-brick to Flagstaff. So I figured it was possible that someone did something similar with the Coliseum. People do strange things, follow useless ambitions that have their own twisted glory. I took a day off of work, got a Zip-car and made the drive up from the city. By the time I reached Steve's cul-de-sac, I saw what he had been talking about on the phone. At the end of the road stood a 1/8th scale, poured concrete model of the Coliseum. It was entirely intact, as the Coliseum was on the day it was finished. It reallly looked a lot more like a Mexican bull fighting ring than a Roman wonder of architecture.

Steve's house was a split level ranch with faux doric collumns in the front of it. He answered the door holding two big glasses of sweet tea. He passed one to me, and gestured at the Coliseaum with his other hand.