Tag: nostalgia

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personal

My biggest fan

What is your definition of love?

 

Meant to post this a while ago but I thought it was too long. It’s my definition:

When I was 15, my best friend, Kevin, told me that my girl Diana cheated on me. We never spoke, I just shut her out. Stupid kid stuff.

Maybe a decade later, I drove by her home and, for some reason, I rang her doorbell. I expected her to slap me when she answered the door; instead, she let me in, gave me a smile and an apron. She had this huge bar of chocolate that she told me to chop for cookies.

So I went in and started chopping.

After a bit, I asked her, half-jokingly, what happened between us.

She stopped and answered:

You listened to Kevin but we both know that he was the first guy to ask me out after we broke up. So that makes you an idiot. I never cheated on you, you know that. I was your biggest fan. That makes me an idiot. You never stood up for me and I didn’t understand why, because I was kind to you. I was on your side but you weren’t on mine.


Why weren’t you?

I had no answer. Almost twenty years after the fact, I still have no answer. I don’t remember anything else but I remember what she said.

That conversation started me off in being who I am now. In fact, I learned the phrases biggest fan and on your side that day.

It’s why I’m always loyal.

You see, she doesn’t know, but I still wonder if No. 7 ever found that job under the California sun; I wanna call her office someday and hear that message that says she’s left the company she hates.

And I still wonder if Diana bought that ranch in Colorado that she dreamt of and has kids to help her make cookies. I wouldn’t know, though.

I never saw her again.

But I hope she got it all.

As for me, I’m waiting for someone to be on my side again.

Location: home
Mood: pensive
Music: But until then I’ll do just fine on my own

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personal

Fathers and sons

For my dad on Father’s Day

Couldn’t celebrate father’s day because of the wedding. I saw him though.

My dad graduated from the second hardest law school in Japan – the equivalent of Princeton here. I graduated in the top third of my class; he graduated in the top 5%.

But, when he was younger than I am now, he came here to wash dishes and chop fish to feed his family. He didn’t want us growing up there.

Realize now how hard it must have been to be 4,000 miles from home, not know the language and work at jobs far beneath you.

Can barely make it outta the Upper West Side.

He said my mom cried when he came home stinking of fish guts for the first time. She was the local beauty queen; he was now a fish monger.

I thought I married a lawyer, she said.
You once believed in me enough to marry me, he said, just wait.

She did and he became the man he knew he could be.

He says that he believed in himself even if no one else did.

He says that he believes in me. I’m actually a bit surprised he’s still pulling for me.

At least you’re not gutting fish; you’re already doing better than I was.

I’d like to be the man I think I could be. I’d like to be the man he thinks I could be.

He doesn’t know about this blog (don’t tell him). But I wanna say, Thanks anyway.

I’m very grateful.

Location: 1PM, yest., doctor’s office
Mood: sick
Music: daddy’s rich And your ma is so good-looking
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personal

Sneakers and Coin

I’m not vain, just realistic

I’ll be traveling this week. Recently, though, I ran.

I’m not a runner, at all. But I found out that I’m 13.9% bodyfat. Unacceptable. Lexxy-pie‘s jumping rope like mad but that’s not for me.

People think I’m vain. I’m not. Just self-conscious. I have good reason to be, because, in 20 years, I’ve never forgotten how much coin people put on physical appearance.

Was a fat kid, you see. Really fat; 5’3″ and 183 pounds. Hella fat. Only for three years but they were the worst years: 12-14. Right when you discover chicks. No fun there.

The sneakers you see above came in the other day. I laced them up and I ran.

Man, I hate it. But I’ll do it. Until I’m breathless and weak, I’ll do it.

Because in 20 years, I’ve never forgotten how much coin people put on physical appearance.

Location: @10AM yesterday, going to the post
Mood: drained
Music: you want someone who truly loves you I will be the one

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personal

The other side

Suppose we all want to get to the other side of something

(c) Someone else

My ex-girlfriend from Europe dropped me a line yesterday. It was good to hear from her. As always she said little except that she’s doing well, seeing someone, and happy. I’m glad.

It would be nice to hear how the other is doing occasionally, as there was a time when we were very close.

True. It was a lifetime ago – before planes hit buildings in my fine city and burned them to the #$@#$ ground.

Remember driving to this drawbridge in her tiny town outside Denmark and waiting for the bridge to come down so we could get to the other side. I liked being there; actually, I like being elsewhere, which is quite different from being somewhere.

On that note, I just bought tickets for the left coast. SFO.

I’ll need a place to crash for a weekend so if anyone has a spare couch in May, I’m there. I’d cook dinner in exchange for some hospitality. If you’re a pescatarian, I’ll buy/make some mac & cheese.

It’ll be good to see the California sun again; I missed her, though I’m sure she didn’t notice I was gone.

Me? Oh, I’m OK, thanks.

I’m just waiting to get to the other side.
Location: in front of the computer all #@$&*^@! day
Mood: drained
Music: Let’s get out of this country I have been so unhappy

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personal

One foot

I’m head over heels with one foot in the past

A buddy gave me a bunch of LPs and 45s to sell on ebay and I took a break from studying to go through it. The 45 for this song was in the bunch and stopped me cold. I took a picture of it for my last post.

Loved this song when I was a kid. I was 11.

I was fat and had a huge crush on a girl named Yvonne.

Another girl named Grace tormented me endlessly.

Teddy and Alex beat me up regularly.

Philip was my best friend.

I believed that the house across the street was haunted and had just started to read 1984.

I remember so much.

I’m becoming that guy that spends his life with one foot in the past.

Location: @11:11AM, barred from the Harvard Club because I’m wearing jeans
Mood: busy
Music: now just how long will it last

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personal

Traditions I can trace

Loud music is the antidote when you’re fuzzy-headed

Thanks to modern chemistry, I’ve been sleeping again this week. I’m really fuzzy-headed right now. Not a good thing considering that I’ve got a two-day, sixteen hour exam at the end of this month – don’t ask.

So to wake myself up, I blare old music at all hours of the day.

I remember when I was younger, I used to put my LPs and 45s on (if you can’t relate to this, please know that I hate you) and do the same in my parents’ basement.

Heard that way back when records were made of wax, you could re-record new music by just cutting new grooves into them.

I’d like to do that with some parts of my life.

Other parts, I’d like to play
over

and
over
again.

Location: @1PM, catching the A train downtown
Mood: busy
Music: one open mind this is my four leaf clover

Categories
personal

Don’t wake me from the dream

Sometimes dreams seem so real, and we wish they were

Had a dream the other night that seemed so real.

Was in an old apartment I had and someone was washing the dishes. I came up behind her and tapped her shoulder and a face I haven’t seen in a while turned around to smile at me.

Her: (drying hands) You ok?
Me: What are you doing here?
Her: (laughing) I live here. Why? Are you trying to tell me something?
Me: You live here?
Her: Yes, I live here.
Me: Are we happy?
Her: What the hell’s wrong with you? The question is, are you happy?
Me: I am.
Her: Then what’s wrong?
Me: Not a thing. Everything is…everything is right.

Then I woke up.

I so didn’t want to wake up.

Location: @1:23AM, showering before bed
Mood: melancholy
Music: I’m so free…No black and white in the blue

Categories
personal

Getting outta Dodge

Keep thinking of going far away; all I really end up going is mad

Think I’m going a little mad.

My hands won’t stop shaking and I’ve become obsessed with idea of just hopping on a plane and going somewhere far away. I don’t know where or what I’d do about the mortgage, the businesses, the job, everything.

I was once very happy on this little beach in just south of Denmark. I was also once happy in the Forbidden City. I was also once happy in my little apartment off 5th Avenue. I was also once happy here.

My #$@$#@$@# hands won’t stop shaking.

And I still can’t sleep.

Think I’m going a little mad.

Location: @12:10AM, almost hitting 90 on the West Side Highway.
Mood: Weird
Music: I’ve got to go, I’ve got to go, I’ve got to go…

Categories
personal

Train on Time

Both and I and the subways have changed – hopefully for the better

The N train at 3AM with most passengers sleeping – not that I’m jealous.

I remember that I used to take the train to and from high school – it took me an hour-and-a-half each way. Back then, the trains were covered in graffiti and filled with older people working their way through life.

Now the graffiti is gone and I’m one of the older people working his way through life. At least I dress better now.

I think.

Location: Back in NYC
Mood: drained
Music: it might sound strange but I wish it would rain
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