I woke up too early, of course. Instead of turning on what I intended, the original Predator came up on suggested movies. I let it play despite knowing that testosterone would save Arnold Schwarzenegger. Up next? Predator 2. This movie gives me flashbacks to a September Saturday back in 1991. I had skipped work for the first time, put on my wired headphones, and started watching this movie. It’s impossible to think of the movie without thinking of the plane crash. I let the movie play. More to tempt the universe than in an interest to see Danny Glover battle the alien. What are the odds that something equally calamitous could happen again? The little tendrils of superstition that go through my mind make me laugh. Because the universe is just perverse enough to remind me that anything can happen at any time. The realization is a blessing and a curse. X .
Only those who have failed will understand the need to understand how much their patterns and reactions affect their relationships. People carry needless wounds and patterns with them to the next relationship. All your previous attempts failed for a reason. Love, X
My egg surprise, hidden in Fayetteville, was found on Easter of all days.
I wondered why I hadn’t heard from the person who found it. It turns out the email was hidden in my spam folder in my other email since Easter Day. 🙂
She wrote to me and told me she had walked further along than normal and spotted it there. It sparked her curiosity, and she ventured into the fringe of the woods to retrieve it.
As promised in the note included in the egg, I will leave her another surprise, this one intended just for her.
When I opened the email, I felt pure joy and adventure, knowing that one of my shenanigans had resulted in a great moment for someone I didn’t know. I was touched more than I realized I would be.
A local doctor stole babies from birth mothers, telling them that their children had died. And one case in particular… It took decades for DNA to reveal the story. That happened here in Northwest Arkansas. One of my ideas for a Netflix documentary would be to contact the families of every mother, especially single mothers, who gave birth during a specific time period to perform DNA tests and compare them nationally.
Handsome, charismatic men who portray themselves as humble Christian husbands. Yet engage in a cycle of highly sexual affairs. (A story so common it is literally copy and paste.) Another one with a conservative political career who used his position at his work to take advantage of women. There’s a reason so many sexual harassment complaints arise in the workplace. It has built-in inequality that largely negates people speaking up and setting things right.
More than one doctor who openly had mistresses but yet were considered pillars of the community. Who had children with those mistresses.
People I knew who experienced a wild array of trauma. Everything you can imagine. Even though I had my own mostly unknown traumas, some of these people went through much, much worse than I did.
A dentist who preyed on women. Money can lighten any stain or accusation. Rarely do people choose victims whom they consider their equals.
Cops took advantage of people monetarily or sexually. Some used their positions to ruin their victims instead of admitting what they had done.
Coaches who bullied young kids. Or worse.
Teachers who are inappropriate with their students.
Church leaders behaving inappropriately.
A multitude of lawyer stories. Except they are armed and knowledgeable regarding the process of eluding accountability. Mostly. I’ve told the story many times, but one of them went to prison for fixing cases. My parents were among those who benefited from the arrangement.
Last year I had a bad feeling about someone who owned a plumbing company. I used my skills and uncovered a trail of female victims. One leading me across the country.
I had a similar feeling about a neighbor. He turned out to be a previously convicted sexual predator, along with a nice jacket full of criminal offenses.
All of these things have shadows around them.
Most people are good people.
But one thing you have to understand is that your experience with a particular person does not mean they didn’t have a dark side.
Especially upon their passing, if you lionize them, you have to be willing to listen to anyone who has a contrary opinion or experience with them.
It is in darkness and secrecy that people can be duplicitous and lead secret lives out of sight from observers. At least observers who will speak up.
The above examples are stories I know from here in Northwest Arkansas.
When I got involved in learning about the doctor who was stealing babies, I was expecting a reasonable explanation. Instead, I had to sit in the knowledge that someone was capable of ruining a mother’s life in that way. There was no doubt that he had done it to multiple women.
It’s human nature to avoid accountability, just as it’s also our nature to get mad when someone tries to tarnish a family member or someone we admire. Even a cursory look at Mother Theresa and her charity reveals many detestable secrets.
People have different faces for each aspect of their life.
I don’t have a nice bow with which to tie this post up.
There are certainly false accusers.
But there are also victims or people who know the truth about someone.
Each of these people has the right to tell their truth and story.
History and familiarity with people have repeatedly and demonstrably proven that truth is stranger than fiction.
I have several examples from my life in which the truth didn’t come to light for decades. In one, I found the gift of a beautiful and intelligent sister concealed from me. In another, I found proof of the final crime that sent my dad to prison in Indiana in the 60s.
I l-o-v-e hearing words mispronounced. It is usually a sign that someone has learned a word from reading it. I devised this couplet to remind people to encourage language and vocabulary instead of mocking it. English “rules” are arbitrary and devised with no rhyme or reason. We owe it to the stupidity of our language to mess with every aspect of it. Think about the magic of language. We translate little squiggles into ideas in our heads. And then we argue how the imaginary and arbitrary symbols are supposed to look or sound. As I age, my tolerance for supercilious and snarky attitudes has plummeted. Say it wrong. Spell it wrong. This language belongs to all of us. All the rules we claim will one day be meaningless. Since I speak and read more than one language, I am comfortable and fearless in navigating all the errors I make when communicating. Most people are nervous when speaking or writing. There’s no reason to be. No matter how careful you are, you’ll sound or seem a bit ignorant to someone, somewhere. You have permission to break the language. If you run into someone who is a bit of a wet blanket about your right to do so, look them in the eye and say, “I’d like an eXpresso.” And prance away.
Yesterday, I unintentionally scared the hell out of a pedestrian in a crosswalk. I was doing taxi service around 4:00, coming up the dreaded hill on Appleby. It bothered me today. She was obviously physically fit because she instinctively employed a combination of a windmill defense and a double time step inspired by bad ’80s music. What she didn’t know were two things. First, it was exactly at that point several years ago I was rear-ended and it totaled my car, after I had experienced the worst couple of weeks of my life. Second, yesterday a car behind me had been engaging in aggressive driving. After I made the right turn onto Appleby, I had foolishly hoped that he focused his attention on his next cave drawing. Instead, he had accelerated much too quickly behind me after making the same turn. There is no way he would have avoided hitting me if I hadn’t gassed my little vehicle very quickly. I made a turn with a wider arc to give myself just enough space to avoid the idiot behind me as well as not scaring the pedestrian. But I hadn’t accounted for her instinctive reaction. The cretin behind me sped up the hill on his way to whatever nonsense such people get involved in. All the pedestrian saw out of the corner of her eye was a little blue cloud of a car apparently heading toward her. I tried to wave an apology profusely but she was already making her way across the crosswalk shaking her head in disgust. Today it was back to normal and instead of worrying about somebody hitting me from behind I kept an eye on the vehicles coming down the hill at 70 mph. I wish I could apologize to the woman. And also congratulate her on both her dance moves and physical agility. X
Güino is 16 now. He may look scruffy, but I brushed him 5 minutes and then petted him until I got carpal tunnel syndrome. I think he’s planning on having a rough day. He’s learning Excel. X .
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 