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The Ones Who Talk

thYou know “that guy?” He’s the one in the movie theater who can’t stop himself from yelling at the characters on screen as if they’re friends of his who are making a mistake. The one on the bus staring at his iPhone, whispering to it like it’s an old friend who’s done him wrong. “No!” he says as the screen goes blank for no good reason. He’s the guy who interrupts every conversation that goes longer than one exchange because he “just has to” interject something that is of a life-and-death importance. Yeah, I used to be that guy.

It all started with books, innocently enough. I was probably five or six and reading was what I lived for. Of course we didn’t have that many age-appropriate books at home, so I would read through the ones we had multiple times, like they were going out of style. The characters in those books became really good friends of mine, so I would begin imparting knowledge to them over the course of the book. “Don’t open that door!” I would say, knowing that behind the door was nothing good.

Then it moved on to movies. I’ll never forget the first time I saw Back to the Future and I kept telling Marty, “Your plan’s not going to work!” but he just wouldn’t listen. Luckily for him, even though his plan didn’t work, everything still came together in the end. If he had only listened to me it would have been a lot easier, though. And when the one scientist said, “They’re all engineered to be female,” in Jurassic Park, I yelled at the screen, “Hell no. They’re smarter than your science!” Look who was right.

But not everyone saw it the same way I did. In particular my sister would tell me to “pipe down” when I would get out of control responding to things that really were just one-way communicators. She would pound on my door while I was narrating my baseball games, and when I was proposing to Samantha Micelli (I guess I was loud) and tell me to knock it off. Apparently “nobody” wanted to listen to me profess my love for a fictional character. Of course, though, that didn’t stop me. Continue reading “The Ones Who Talk”

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Knowing When

“Know when to give up, and when to keep forging on.” People used to always tell me, usually on the heels of some grievous defeat, that things will look up, that if I keep working hard the world would reward me. But that’s not true, is it? There are so many people out there trying … Continue reading Knowing When

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Firefly Lights

police-lights-backgrounds-for-powerpointThe lights are obvious, their staccato rhythm mesmerizing against the gloomy backdrop of the highway at night. But they are alone, with no siren to punctuate the otherwise still air, as the old car eases to the side of the road. Steam rises from the car’s exhaust pipe, disappearing into the dark sky as it climbs. Sliding into place a moment later, a police cruiser blocks out the view of the old car as it sits idling on the shoulder, like an old lover tossed aside.

A man emerges into the shadow cast by the blinking lights. He gazes for a brief while at the passing traffic, at all the cars that ease across the lane line in the opposite direction, their drivers splitting their focus between the lights and their own destinations. It’s easy for him to forget the past when the present is so immediate, so sensitive. His cruiser purrs at his back, bringing him back to the moment, and the reason why he stopped in the first place. He approaches the old car, his long stride getting him to the driver’s door in four steps.

The man in the old car sits ramrod straight, but his back is crooked so it hurts him to no end to assume such a position. He just knows it’s expected of solid citizens, something he is not, but something he wants to portray to the officer who is approaching his vehicle. He checks out his eyes in the rearview mirror, and they sparkle with a pent-up mischief that might just be his undoing on this starless night, on a road he’s never been on before, in a county that detests his kind.

He has long, greasy hair that hangs limp past his shoulders, in the fashion he has always preferred, even after the lice were found to have infested that same hair some months back. In fact, he still itches from time to time, what he perceives as a ghost itch but what is in fact still lice doing spring cleaning in the nest on top of his head. There are beer bottles scattered across the back seat of his car, something he can do nothing about. At least it’s not light beer, he thinks, strangely proud of his manly attitude in the face of difficult questions to come. Continue reading “Firefly Lights”

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My Two Moms

There was a show in the 1980s, called My Two Dads, about a 12-year-old girl who somehow came to live with two guys she happened to call “Dad.” These two fellows couldn’t have been more different from each other, with the one a sensitive artist and the other a staunch businessman. But neither knew who … Continue reading My Two Moms

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Dirge

The sound of feet shuffling Slipping on mossy rock Blindly forging onward Through sand and shale To reach their hidden home The feel of rough stone Pressing against soft skin Exhaustion creeping in While they weep and moan Knowing tomorrow is lost The grooves are jagged Cut into the faded rock Gripped by rough hewn … Continue reading Dirge

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Chatting With Lexi: On Prejudice

racism prejudice 2I happened to be skimming through my Facebook newsfeed one day when Lexi comes in the room and glances at my screen. Luckily none of those swear-happy memes were up on the screen, but unluckily it was a large photo of a certain basketball team owner who said some horrible things about a particular group of people. I was hoping that Lexi hadn’t seen the photo and wouldn’t ask about it, but then again, on some level, I wanted her to ask. Because it’s never too young to learn the truth about some people, and to help sort out some questions she might have.

And boy, did she have a lot of thoughts on the subject.

Lexi: Who’s that guy? He looks really old.

Me: That’s the owner of a basketball team.

Lexi: Wow, so he must have a lot of money.

Me: Yes, he does, but that’s not why he’s in the news.

Lexi: Why is he in the news?

Me: Well, he said some bad things about people.

Lexi: What did he say?

Me: Just some really bad things about black people, and everyone is upset over it. That’s why he’s in the news.

Lexi: Wait. Don’t black people play basketball?

Me: A lot of people play basketball, but yes, black people too.

Lexi: So, if he likes basketball why would he say bad things about people who play on his team?

Me: That’s the point, Lexi. Lots of people have thoughts like that about particular groups of people. They just don’t say it out loud. But just having those feelings is wrong, whether or not you say them out loud.

Lexi: Yeah, if I didn’t like somebody I would just say it.

Me: But you would have a valid reason for not liking them, right?

Lexi: Yeah, like with Emma*, if she pushed me I wouldn’t like her.

Me: Right, but black people never did anything wrong to this man. He just doesn’t like them for whatever reason. That’s wrong, to hate one group of people like that.

Lexi: I’m black. Continue reading “Chatting With Lexi: On Prejudice”