The cartography section of Professor Sydney MacFarland's undergraduate course required the creation of a map. After instruction each student was given access to rudimentary instruments, a tall, portable table and a folded sheet of paper. Our assignment was to map a single square block of Utica's Oneida Square. By the time I turned a second corner my projection was "off the chart". Oh well - I pushed on, taping additional pages to the original sheet. My final submission resembled a large, lumpy tarp - it was not a success. But I did retain a long-term interest in maps.
My collection is small (75 or so pieces) and unpretentious. It includes for instance the 12 maps of the Royal Commission on Local Government in Greater London 1957-1960. If you Google "London Metro area maps" - with a single click access is acquired to over 100 representations. In addition to maps of metro areas; Baku, Berlin, Moscow, Vienna, others, I have subway maps - Boston, Moscow, Tokyo and of course London. The most influential was the London Tube Underground map created in 1931 by Harry Beck. Examine a Paris subway map - on one side the system utilizing Beck's model - turn over and there is a more distance and curve accurate representation. Beck's provides the user with "elegance, simplicity, order". * It has been emulated by subway maps around the world. But ultimately my map collection is just "stuff"- but for me it is "thought provoking stuff".
Paris, a magnificent city and state of mind. Looking at a map I see the Av des Champs-Elysees. Walking west on a sunny afternoon I glanced into a shop and saw a rather striking, black-haired woman attired in silver slacks, dark belt and loose, white blouse. I continued walking - for 100 feet then abruptly reversed direction to have another glimpse. There she was - curious she lifted her head, embarrassed my head sank - I turned and walked away, but she remains etched in memory.
Near the Metro Station Luxembourg. A busy Friday evening, hotels full - but I secure a challenging room. The door was plywood cut to almost fit the opening, no door knob but a lock, the dull glow of a single light bulb. I slept there one night awakening occasionally to the sounds of inebriated citizens mumbling and whizzing outside my window.
Cathedral Notre Dame. Two British ladies stop me and speaking "Frenclish" asked for directions. I responded in English. One shouted, "Oh thank God! He's an American!"
London, legendary for courage, finance and friendliness. Near the Imperial War Museum a gentleman in suit and tie took my picture. Smiling he then approached and offered to develop the photo and mail it to me for $10.00. I thought he was joking. After 15 minutes of stimulating conversation he convinced me that he was wonderfully articulate and extremely interesting. I did not pay him - but I wanted to.
Victoria Station. Waiting for a train I sat down at a table with a beer and sandwich. A man in a sports jacket, tie came over and uninvited sat down. With a broad grin he commenced a conversation. "What's your name?" A pause, "what do you do?"
"Joe" I replied. "I am a welder from St. Louis. What's yours?"
"Winston" he responded. This introduction was followed by a solid half hour of deeply informed and absorbing conversation none of which I remember. At no time did talk of any possible "business" opportunity intrude. I had to depart and rising broke the spell. I wanted to ask my new friend, "Winston, what the hell was this all about - what were you after?" But I did not and shall never know.
There are more maps of other cities and . . .
*Daily Mail online 5/8/2010.
