It’s never been unmitigated fun to travel to or with my family. That’s not because of them or anyone outside myself – the issue is with me. I’ve always loved my time alone. I shun, as far as I recall, all company. Except (and here’s the moral of this poem), I have to venture out to come back home.
Three years ago a book I bought arrived, assembled by some family and bound in vibrant colors for the folks who strived to show support, or loved the art they found, that issued from the mind of someone downed by injury to brain and drawing hand. I laid that book down next to where I sit, where it’s remained in place, a gadget stand, until this morning. Recollecting it, I shelved it in an area more fit.
I watched you take yourself off nicotine, abruptly and without a backward slip. I witnessed when you altered your routine, eliminating alcohol with grace. It’s true your sister tried to intervene; a few of us made comments that you heard. But you cold-turkey quit. What do you mean to now assert nobody can self-whip addiction? Recollect how you got clean.
I don’t use ketchup often any more. I’m meatless and I seldom go for fries. But sometimes I want cocktail sauce, a pour of Louie dressing (Thousand satisfies). I visited my tiny local store, assuming I could add to home supplies a little jar. Imagine my surprise – the only stuff they stock is mega-size.
“McMansion” is the way his mom portrayed the place they rented from AirBnB. He didn’t understand what she conveyed, and asked her to explain. “Monstrosity” she didn’t say. “It housed our family – enormous but not fine, to be precise.” He pondered and then ventured critically, “That’s someone’s house, and you’re not very nice.”
They had me skip a grade when I was young. From 3rd to 4th they boosted me mid-year. They thrust me into higher math among a group of kids I didn’t know. My sphere transformed, I raced to learn to multiply (my 7’s, 8’s and 9’s were rushed too fast). I leveled up in subjects though, but my advance in form and manners was outclassed.
My BFF (intelligent but low in confidence, at least historically), said “No one skipped me. That’s one way I know how much more smart you were and are then me.” Oh that’s not it. My talents were for S.T.E.M. The faculty was primed to notice them.
I love my brother. And I’d like to spend some time with him – we’ve been too long apart. December on his farm has charm – we tend to early coffee chat and afternoons in chill and crispy air. I’d have to spend ten hours, though, in getting there and back. I’d have to let the dogs and wives offend. I’d have to bear the air bed’s lumpy fart. This Christmas trip I just can’t recommend.
I’d rather eat some carb than exercise, but I’m experienced (that’s code for old). Indulgence now no longer gratifies the way it did when young, and I don’t bounce back into health or fitting smaller size. I need a burn that isn’t gastric juice. The benefits delay provide arise from vigor and a pleasure self-controlled. Regarding this, I may be growing wise.