Tuesday, April 3, 2018

10,692. RUDIMENTS, pt. 274

RUDIMENTS, pt. 274
Making Cars
Have you ever suffered  -  as
I have  -  from (what I call)
'the onesies'? As in, 'one thing
I'm certain of is....' From that
end point, the list just goes on.
Whatever your motivation or
interest, you fill it in. 'One thing
I'm certain of is that Chemistry
stinks, as a subject to learn.'
Or, 'One thing I know is I'll
never try this again...' There are
always differences in the matters,
but the material is mostly the same.
My friend's mother, Gladys, was
a nurse. One time I had some
stitches in my head, from a stupid
accident that had ripped open my
scalp. I was living then in the
country, and had never had them
taken out  -  the old kind of
stitches, thread; not the sort now
that self-dissolve after a little time.
I was visiting home, and told her
about it, for they'd formed a sort of
bump upon my head. She looked
them over, and chided me nicely,
for never going back. And then,
for me, she took them out  -  which
meant a gentle slicing of the skin
what had started growing over them.
Almost an 'ouch,' but not quite.
I said to her, 'One thing I know is,
I'll never do that again.'
-
Maybe what I always wanted was a
sort of insurance policy that this life
wasn't just all going to be a waste and
a fake. How would that be if we died,
after all that effort, for nothing at all?
It cannot be. Nature never 'wastes' an
effort, and this life, and all its make-up
and contingencies, is certainly that.
So I am certain it is all for something
else, some other reason, we are here,
and gone. Maybe we don't see it, or
can't, or refuse. Or maybe we just
cloud it all over with our worldly junk
and never realize a thing. But then, I
wonder, is THAT then held against 
us? The best part of life for me was 
early on  -  as I've mentioned before,
down the end of our block, at first,
was woods. Woods with some paths
through them, and a small pond in 
the center. We'd go there, as kids  - 
Winter ice-skating; Summer hang 
out, big logs; different aged kids;
some learning to smoke, others 
getting interested in girls, and 
some girls, flirty about it, starting
to like guys. Ten year olds anyway,
so what's it matter. Bicycles and
flannel-lined dungarees; that's 
something I remember. And then,
one day along the way, it all got
cut down and cleared, and they
built houses. The biggest thing I
missed was the possums. They 
used to hang from the Summer 
trees. By their tails; three or four 
possums anyway. When there 
was no school, and it was nice
out, I'd be sure to get up early,
like 6am, and go to the woods, 
just to see them hanging  -  upside
down, by their tails, asleep. It
was weird, and I've never heard
about it ever since; maybe koala 
bears I think, in Australia  -  I've
read they do that too, except I
don't think they even have tales,
so who's behind that farce? One
thing I've never figured out is that.
-
And while I'm at it  -  all this Inman
Avenue boyhood crap  -  another 
thing I never got to the bottom of 
was 'gerunds.' All this schooling and
stuff, and they're ending up teaching
us about something called 'gerunds.'
I never got that one. It was about,
I think, a noun. Say, most simply
and boyishly, 'piss' That's the noun,
then when you make it into a gerund
is when you turn in, with 'ing' into
the major lead, or subject matter, of
what you're saying. Like 'Pissing, I
was thinking of what I'd be doing
that afternoon with the Little League
team I was on.' Or, I guess, even later,
'Playing, I was really more or less
just standing in the outfield until a
hit ball came my way.' That's the
gist anyway, and I've probably even
gotten in wrong. Who cares. But,
at the same time, what in the world 
were they thinking about in trying
to teach us that? Maybe it went like,
'Killing, I was just as much in fear
of being killed in these damned
rice-fields and paddies. And isn't
a paddie Irish? That's a Vietnamese
themed one. Onesie? I Oneder.
-
By the time I really got around to
it, I was crazy for girls. No denying.
I certainly wasn't gay, that much I
knew. Girls were all around me,
and  -  before I went into the seminary,
where that entire field of endeavor
was immediately snatched from the
jaws of victory  -  I was getting sort
of into the hang of looking for what
I wanted, the sorts of things that
attracted me. One thing was Winter
coats. I somehow loved seeing girls
all swaddled in big coatsand hats, with
faces and eyes alone visible. Now I
see it to be a weird twist on that
while Islamic 'hijab' thing. But
back than it wasn't that, it was
emotion. Girls made me sing
inside, brought something out in
me when I'd see them. Really, I'm
not being perverse, just mentioned
the truth and an observation. They
swelled my heart, as if I belonged
in the world with them in it. Nothing
came of it, of course; I'm just saying.
To my previous mention, yes, the
seminary negated all that, even 
though some of the people there 
had their own things going on.
-
What do you do with a world like
that? It was pretty different then;
nowadays, indeterminate sexuality
is no big deal. For some reason seen
as OK, within bounds, even cool and
elite. Call me old fashioned, but Jeez
I hope not  - 'vive le difference', as the
Chinese, or someone, say. Differences
there are, and let those differences
swell with pride.
-
Life just made me nervous, and
I never knew what to do with
it, or what to do about it.





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