Picture is an excellent cover to the short story. It is a single for .99. I sometimes think I could do better. Well I do. sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t. I found a poem on a napkin.
& the Equator
I’m going into
My Flag is on.
-A proactive civil demonstration.
In no way
Oh There it Is.
If you are locked on
You fire back.
Ought to be
To the Astronauts
Some to wear
My T Shirts!
For their Human
Of a No Ground
Where God and
Fight it out
& Send them
Off in Time
It will be
A new Crusade
I’m going into
She was Ok and we did a lot of acid. We did it on the weekends and we did it on Wednesdays and we did it on the weekends. There for three months or so, was it 6? She was my Art of Film teacher.
I’d gotten those scholarships from the school in Chicago somehow. I think someone in the church basement gave me a break. Turns out one of the schools I went on to for another 6 weeks was summer school for Mitt Romney’s school Cranbrook. I got to see green 3D laser made holograms in a lab there for the science part of it Oakland University.
My memory for all of it isn’t great. I’d done LSD in Chicago and told my Uncle about it as a bad influence and he still holds my lies against me. I once told my daughter she had a right to her secrets. You can’t be yourself if you never get any privacy and can’t keep any secrets and if you aren’t a good kid by 13 you’re a fuck up for the rest of your life.
I had every good reason to be depressed besides whatever chemical biological propensity there is for it.
Mom said it was okay and good to hate dad and divorced him telling me he was having affairs with men. Men was Bob. There was another guy. Time went by and my father was depressive. There are words about it.
But this isn’t what this is about.
What this is about is why my male 17 18 high school self and her 24 year old self first year teaching job was worse than I thought then, though you know of course for most of the time it was good for me to think of how I got the teacher. It is a common desire of young guys in high school with young teachers.
I left the other girl who is hard to name right this minute I can see her. She is in some Super 8. It will come to me. Blonde nice girl whose dad had a .22 revolver I wanted and he would have sold me but I didn’t have the money. He smashed a bumper around in the car I was in with him drunk. He ran the white persons pay more exclusive school. Kindof cool he sent his child to the public school. It is good I forget now the names.
She they had a pool and nice house and the roads were going to destroy the neighborhood he and his mom knew and they got the deal on the house. I was going to be a writer, and jeff was funny and Paula was going to be an anthropologist and my teacher quit without getting caught because I wasn’t going to betray her and Jeff told her and I was already a spy and dumped him for the trip to California and went instead to Toronto.
So yeah, we aren’t friends and that was the thing that you care about now when you get old. I’m old now and think of how everybody matters.
One of my friends makes fun of me for that.
The guy Steve Talent killed himself in the high school teachers yard because the Principal got him to rat out all his friends. They were going to fuck over his teacher affair girl who was no intellectual like my army brat girl from Berkley. What a deal huh?
Steve gassed himself over his losing friends.
Like there are some places like when you say “South”, Southside of Chicago, or North, Northside up by Lincoln Park, or West, Westside where there are these gothic apartments that cost lots to live in and are in a park that they got to making like Battery Park looking new before the jets hit the Towers. Overall the point being that there are places where the choices are never that bad really. There are places where it is civilized at most every turn.
Then see there are places where the good choices are bad.