UUUH, I shouldn't be up. I popped into consciousness this morning like premature birth and there is no going back to sleep. I want to follow up on this...
Both my brothers live by this isolationist doctrine that is totally foreign to me. I mean, I grew up smack in the middle of the two, superlatively distinct eras of family life that shaped these two souls. You would think that if this trait was indicative of something elemental in our household that I too would be shaped by its force...or maybe the subtlety passed me by entirely. My younger brother, J., is stubborn (good god!) and hunkered down like he has to insulate himself against fatal forces of bad influence... my older brother, M., is nursing wounds and making the worlds biggest pearl out of the raw materials of neglect and resentment.
J. seems to think that if you talk him into liking a new song then he is done for...
M. acts like we were all listening to the song for time immemorial before we let him in on it...
And this is what kills me, they both have fallen for the biggest social swindle and egotistical fallacy of all time, the Great American Myth of the Individual. Do we all really think that our actions and consequences belong to us? Don't we owe it to each other to not kill one another with emotional fallout?
Where do I start?
J. is going to Iraq. Oh sweet Jesus I am dying here....I love this kid like crazy mad, more then he could understand. It was a rough stretch there when he came along and we were more like a band of fugitives then a family, all kinda distrustful and desperate at the same time. He doesn't remember that particular emotional climate but I do, and I took care of him, made sure he survived, rollerskated around the kitchen, cooked him dinner...
Littler then me
And he is accepting Iraq like a bitter pill, ran off and married his sweetheart, got heady notions about duty and brotherhood, and is totally intolerant of suggestions that this is at all avoidable. Like this is his, affects noone else, is none of anyone's business. He was deployed to Egypt for a year, moved to Montana and is getting activated again, though there maybe some safeguard in his case against immediate re-activation. He yelled at me THERE ARE GUYS IN HIS UNIT WITH NEW BABIES, WHAT MAKES HIM SPECIAL? He gets angry at the perceived suggestion that he should shirk his responsibilities. But what the fuck are we supposed to do? It is survival instinct. Panic. This changes our lives, is changing your life...THIS IS HAPPENING TO ME TOO YOU SELFISH PRICK. I just wanna push him down on his ass for being so fucking stubborn but I don't dare cause my ass-kicking fortune turned about seven years ago during one of his adolescent growth spurts.
Bigger then me
And then there is M. Man oh man, he was always bigger then me and never let me forget it. I sprained my wrist once trying to smack him and the way I am feeling right now I would do it again. M. ran off and married the biggest bitch west of the Mississippi and I will throw her into any dog fight to prove it. Sheri is his second wife, is not the mother of his two children and is one wicked broad. M. hoards himself to himself with justified acrimony and she is like a fucking curator for his museum of pain. As long as he can get mileage out of his perceived wounds, his aches, his betrayals he will never let them go. He hoards his children, he hoards his fraternity and his kinship. She is incredibly adept at applying logical fallacies using pop-psychology language to make it all meaningful. She sees my mother as a mortal enemy, like some reverse Psycho Oedipus complex in which winning his attention is a zero-sum game. This has been going on for too long time.
But now she is playing the endgame. She has upstaged all this other grief by triumphantly excommunicating my mother on the most absurd charges...because she wrote letters to B* (mother of my niece and nephew). I cant stand it. I am going to put gum in her hair and sign her up for ten thousand magazine subscriptions. And he thinks his children is HIS*HIS*HIS and don't exist for the rest of us, but with his sanction and blessing only.
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- Uphill Both Ways
- Home Sweet Home
- The Buried Narrative
- Fed Up
- I Always Drink Tequila On My Birthday
- The Word
- Sweet Blood
- In Case You Don't Have Enough To Worry About
- I Thought I Put All the Chaos and Angst Behind Me
- Saturday Race Day
- I Want To Be Seen
- I Am Full of Bad Ideas
- cant seem to get online
- Deify Reagan?
- Here Goes....
- Sprints and Shin Splints
- The Year of the Tiger, Poor, Poor Tiger....
- Looking Up At the Sky
- My Thoughts Just Trail Off......
- Fleet Feet
- Goodness and Light
- An Ill Wind Blows
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