- Take Care of your own.
“In benighted, incompetent Africa, I had never encountered an orphan: the American streets resembled nothing so much as one vast, howling, unprecedented orphanage. It has been vivid to me for many years that what we call a race problem here is not a race problem at all: to keep calling it that is a way of avoiding the problem. The problem is rooted in the question of how one treats one’s flesh and blood, especially one’s children. ”
- Freedom doesn’t really mean we’re Free. There are expectations and even then it’s all a lie.
“And what the white students had not expected to let themselves in for, when boarding the Freedom Train, was the realisation that the black situation in America was but one aspect of the fraudulent nature of American life. They had not expected to be forced to judge their parents, their elders, and their antecedents, so harshly, and they had not realised how cheaply, after all, the rulers of the republic held their white lives to be. Coming to the defence of the rejected and the destitute, they were confronted with the extent of their own alienation, and the unimaginable dimensions of their own poverty. They were privileged and secure only so long as they did, in effect, what they were told: but they had been raised to believe that they were free.”
You know as I continue to watch this ridiculous political race unfold in front of my eyes and continue to watch the way the world is going I continue to kind of scratch my head and say why? Why? You know growing up, I always kind of felt like when everyone else was admiring someone I was the only one admiring the other guy. I never liked the role models my friends liked; I was different that way. But there was a underlining thread in my role models. they were usually honest, had integrity and they were usually the underdogs. I feel the same way now.
“If there is a hard, high wall and an egg that breaks against it, no matter how right the wall or how wrong the egg, I will stand on the side of the egg. Why? Because each of us is an egg, a unique soul enclosed in a fragile egg. Each of us is confronting a high wall. The high wall is the system which forces us to do the things we would not ordinarily see fit to do as individuals . . . We are all human beings, individuals, fragile eggs. We have no hope against the wall: it’s too high, too dark, too cold. To fight the wall, we must join our souls together for warmth, strength. We must not let the system control us — create who we are. It is we who created the system. (Jerusalem Prize acceptance speech, JERUSALEM POST, Feb. 15, 2009)”I look at what America puts on a pedestal. It seems like we want shallow, we want liars, we want vacant. I don’t get it. I have to be honest, I felt hope with Barack Obama. I thought it was a step in the right direction. I still feel that way. I think OUR country needed Barack and Michele and I think the African-American citizens needed Barack and Michele. Why are we going backwards?
Why is this country so shallow? Why is this country so ready to praise the Kardashians and all this nonsensical reality stars or the Trumps of the world. Why are they media’s sweethearts? And nothing against the Kardashians but why are these people even in demand. I don’t get it. Why is the media talking about the Kardashians every day? Big Business? Why is Trump in a presidential race.? He is a known racist and misogynist. He isn’t good, he isn’t a leader. Why would ANY woman VOTE for that? I know the world is corrupt but the people of this country could make a difference. Why are we dumbing down our country. I mean I guess our country is probably the most informed it has ever been because of the ability to share information so quickly and wide spread so I get that. But why is the media feeding us such bullshit. I feel like we are the watered down USA. It reminds me of when the waitress in you local diner waters down the catsup and thinks no one notices.
So as I was watching the debate I kept thinking of something I read a while back. One of my favorite movies is HUD, with Paul Newman. This was one of the few times Paul played a really bad guy. No Morals. The tag line was A man with the barbed wire soul. Melvyn Douglas played his father.
I will never forget what Melvyn Douglas said to his son. It was heartbreaking but it was memorable. https://youtu.be/1gVa4FAikBghttps
You don’t care about people Hud. You don’t give a damn about ’em. Oh, you got all that charm goin’ for ya. And it makes the youngsters want to be like ya. That’s the shame of it because you don’t value anything. You don’t respect nothing. You keep no check on your appetites at all. You live just for yourself. And that makes you not fit to live with.
Little by little the look of the country changes because of the men we admire. You’re just going to have to make up your own mind one day about what’s right and wrong. — Homer Bannon.
Sounds Familiar. Why do we continue to put the bad guys on a pedestal? Why do we continue to admire them?
Even Paul Newman was surprised that so many young men had posters of Hud in their rooms after the movie came out. He couldn’t understand the admiration HUD received from the movie goers. He actually was quite spooked by it.Why would they love a guy that was a cad, a narcissist, a Liar, dishonest and a rapist! Paul Newman said he didn’t like it at all. It was unsettling to him.
Even in the Movie Midnight Cowboy Jon Voight had a picture of Hud Bannon in his room.He was admiring himself in the mirror with Hud as inspiration. Maybe that was a telling scene since Jon Voight continues to endorse and side with Trump. Hmm.
Anyhow it always stuck with me. Little by little the country changes because of the men we admire. Still rings true.
I was thinking a lot about my dad recently. I go thru periods where I think of him constantly and then I can go weeks without thinking about him at all. If you told me that ten years ago I would have told you that you were crazy. I guess I get caught up in the day to day business of living. I am always so surprised that I don’t dream about him more. I always thought he would show up in my dreams more. It’s funny how our dreams work. I don’t understand them. They are so random and bizarre. I never dream about the people I love , why is that? Anyway I was thinking about the blog I wrote called Monsoon in Chinatown; a letter to my father. I wrote that years ago after he died. It was an exercise to help me get over his death. I posted it below in a previous post. I was told by a therapist it might help to write him a goodbye letter. So I did. It was a long private letter but I posted part of it. I never spoke about the day he died but It was the worst day of my 38 years of living. I felt like writing about it today. I remember being depressed, vacant, sick, scared and well not very present. I was there but I wasn’t there. I think somehow my brain couldn’t handle all the emotion so it shut off. I wasn’t myself and I was somewhere inside myself. I felt like a turtle who went back into it’s shell. I know this seemed distant and selfish to others but I couldn’t be any different at that time.. My brain was in charge. I was who I was then. My life was in shambles and this was the Main Event.
I went to my parents house on New Years Day, my dad was still with us. I was living by myself and had slept at my apartment the night before. I would have been there already but my biological relatives invited me to go out for New Years Eve. I didn’t want to go but my mom told me to go. I had just found my biological Aunt and she asked me to spend New Years Eve with her and the family. I went. I had been spending a lot of time at my parents house when I wasn’t working watching my father wither away. It was the holidays and I think my mom thought I needed a break so she told me to go out and have fun so I went.
Have fun, what a strange thought.
I was so happy to find my biological relatives but it was such a bad time for it to happen. I wasn’t in a good place. For many different reasons.
I had spent Christmas Eve sitting with my dad thinking he would pass…but he didn’t. The Christmas Eve I will never forget. It was me and my mom and two of her friends there in the house that night. I was sitting with my dad in his room and we watched the Christmas Story together. That was the last thing we did before he slipped into a coma. In fact the last thing he said to me was a line out of that movie. He was repeating one of the lines out of the movie over and over. I can’t watch Christmas story anymore without reliving that night.
I would doze off and wake to his thin frail bony frame staring at me over the railing of the bed. I don’t know if he knew I was there but I think he did. As I was sitting there with him I heard something down the street like singing. I figured it was Christmas Carol Singers so I looked out the window behind my father’s death bed to find about fifty or so people walking up the street. They were holding lit candles and singing. Next thing I knew they were in the house. The minister of my fathers and mothers church came in between Christmas service with half the church behind him. They were all holding candles. It was like one of those sappy hallmark movies. They loved my dad, the minister loved my dad, the congregation loved my dad, everyone loved my dad. if dad couldn’t be at church the church would come to dad.
I left my dad’s side and went downstairs to be with my mom and all these people who so kindly came to pay their last respects. The minster and his flock. My mom let them in and as they filed into our small house singing they formed a crescent in the living room and held hands. My mom stood there with the poise and strength that her generation seems to have mastered. She was the perfect host; kept her game face on for those divine people while I melted. I couldn’t hold it together and it took every molecule of my being not cry out loud. I could feel eyes on me with their kind sympathy. My mom on the other hand was a strong upright force that was there for them as not to make them feel uncomfortable. I will never forget the look on her face when we all prayed. Her strength was at its glorious best. She was in the hands of her god.
After the prayers had been said and the songs had been sung they left, the candles burned down and there was one more Christmas Eve sermon to be given and they had to get back. I went back upstairs to sit with my dad, my daddy, my best friend. He made it to Christmas day. In fact he made it all the way to New Years Day. I spent the New years Eve with my new Aunt and her family and then went back to my apartment. I came back New Years Day morning to be with my mom and my dad, I was depleted emotionally, tired and totally spent as we all were. I went up to see him and then I went back downstairs. I remember I was watching the twilight zone so as not to think, trying to distract myself from the pain that was all around me. The craziest thing happened. My favorite twilight zone show came on the TV. The reason it is so crazy is because it’s the one with young Robert Redford when he plays the Grim Reaper. That was such a rare show that they never played. It was one of those 24 hour twilight zone marathons that they do on New Years Day . As I was watching the Charming Redford as the grim reaper conning that poor old lady, my mom came down the stairs crying and told me he was gone. I ran back up to him and watched my mom finally break down. Her life partner for fifty years or so is gone. I called the funeral home and whomever else I was supposed to call. I watched Mark, the flustered and devastated minister knock on our neighbor’s door before he realized he was at the wrong house. He was there minutes after my dad passed to help console us. After a while my sisters started to show up with their husbands.
He finally left us on New Years Day and he waited till I got there. I was so glad I was there. Mom thinks he waited to New Years day so that she would get an extra year of his work benefits. I knew he wasn’t ready to die. He was 73, he wanted to enjoy his grandchildren, he wasn’t ready. I saw the looks on his face as he was dying. He knew the cancer had spread all over his body and even though he NEVER complained in the six months he got the cancer and died from it; he couldn’t hide his disappointment from me.
Everything happened quickly, the Hearst showed up from the funeral home and took him away. My sisters were consoling my mom and I was back in my turtle shell. I was in shock I think. After a while reality sunk in and I had to go back home, My mom wanted to be alone and I had to get ready for the funeral.
I went outside to drive home and as I walked outside I realized my tires were completely deflated. Someone cut my tires on the day that my dad died. Are you kidding me? I just stood there looking at my tires in a state of shock.
Was I really going to have to get my tires fixed on the day I lost my father. I guess so. No one was offering to help so here it is. It is already starting. The one person that would have helped me with my car was gone. After staring at my car for what seemed like an hour.. I had my god damn deflated car towed down to the tire place and got my car fixed.
At that moment I never felt so alone.
I was in the waiting room waiting while they put new tires onto my car. They were not fixable.
There was a woman and child waiting with me in the waiting room and the child kept crying. I felt like I was in a nightmare. My nerves were shot, the child’s screams were killing me.
Then the guy at the desk decided to make a pass at me. WTF…like some kind of sleazy offer with a wink. I remember thinking if there is a hell I am in it right now. yes..This is definitely hell.
My tires were fixed and I went back to my apartment alone and there I sat ….still.
Thinking about my mom, my dad, what was to become of all of this.
Yes, that was the worst day of my life.
Knowing then that it was also the first day of the rest of my life, a life that would never be the same without him.