What do I do?

One reason I do this writing is  to force change upon me - force me to regain the writing habit that I had years ago, but I lost it as the demands of life piled up. Even thought I voluntarily signed up for this class, I continue to fight it. I must admit to myself that I do not like change even though I consider my current situation and, dare I say, mental state to be a bit lost like a ship without a rudder. I am at a point in life where I have accomplished a lot of my goals - even if I never expressed them to anyone and really not sure if they were goals or mere survival. It feels like a change is necessary or maybe coming, but I just don't know what it will or should be. 

The uncertainty seems to be shared by a lot of people I talk to these days. I lost a few family members over the past few years, and that always leads to reflection. Then, there is society that is seemingly unraveling before my/our eyes. So much of what is happening on a daily basis is hard to digest, and is it possible to discuss anything with people these days? Opinions and righteousness have replaced civil discourse? I want to both pull my loved ones close to me and at the same time I want to run away, go away and be somebody else. In the end, maybe this is the proverbial mid-life crisis? Or, is it the broader existential crisis that I fear? I think back to that kid growing up in public housing and bullied on a daily basis and feel relief that I made it this far, but what next? What changes are coming?

Get In

It was another scorching summer day, the sun punished any venturing outside of shady areas. I sat on our steps, staring at the nothingness of the neighborhood. With no air conditioning, it was too hot to return inside along with being too hot to go anywhere. I took a big gulp of water from the nearby hose as a yellow Duster roared into the space in front of our neighbor's trailer. They were the envy of the neighborhood since it was a double wide with top notch air conditioner that I had enjoyed when doing chores for the old guy.

A young guy stepped out of the car and disappeared inside the home - I was jealous wanting to feel that air conditioning. He returned after a few minutes and raised the massive hood on the car. I stood and watched as he leaned under the hood and worked After some time, he finally acknowledged me while motioning for assistance – I slowly approached him and stood with hands in pocket and shielding the sun with my hand.

"Hey there, I am Gil, my dad lives here." He motioned to the home behind him.

"Cool." 

"Can you hand me 7/16 socket?" He leaned under the hood, left hand dangling, awaiting the tool.

I placed it in his hand and he smiled.He continued working as I handed more tools and put everything in its place. Dad said I never paid attention, but I always watched intently whenever he was working.

"You sure know your way around a toolbox." He slammed the hood and ordered me to get in. 

I stumbled into the passenger seat, struggling to close the massive door – he slammed it and we sped away bouncing over the random speed bump – continuously fumbling with the new shifter, mumbling about the transmission, smacking the shifter.

We ended up at the park, speeding up and slowing down and eyeballing me. He asked if I liked girls and how often I touched myself - laughing with each question. The car came to rest in a dark area under some trees. He slammed the shifter forward into park and reached over, touching my leg. I was scared and confused. He abruptly stopped, holding his hand in place with his gaze meeting mine. It felt like he was looking through me. He stayed in a trance before pulling back and placing both hands on the steering wheel - shaking his head back-and-forth while mumbling. I kept wondering what I had done wrong.

He revved the engine and sped away. We stopped for ice cream before returning home. As I exited the car, he came around and grabbed my shoulders. He pushed me down and knelt beside me, said the Lord’s Prayer, handed me a necklace with cross pendant. He squeezed my shoulder, thumb digging into my shoulder blade while reminding me to tell nobody about our trip. I slowly walked the short distance home and never saw him again.

Let's not discuss

"Hey, you taking your break now?" 

It was an innocent question, although it took me a week to summon the courage to ask her, my coworker, to take our break together. That encounter led to more mutual breaks and then an actual date where we went to see the movie "Sleeping with the Enemy" - not a joke, we still laugh about it. When I approached her that first time, there was only the thought of talking, spending time together, I had somehow forgotten the obvious difference - others did not.

As the Three Dog Night songs says "The world is black, the world is white. It turns by day and then by night." Having been in a mixed relationship for many years, I learned, was taught, the difference between black and white. Yes, I was naive. I had no clue of anything related to race - not a big surprise with me being a white guy. Being together irritated so many with no shortage of opinions, stares and comments. It was a shock in every sense of the word, but it was bliss when only the two of us.

Cue the song "Brother Louie" by The Stories when she meets the family - "He took her home to meet his mama and papa. Now he had a terrible fright." 

I was hot-tempered, a short fuse, in my younger days thus many altercations. I lost many so-called friends and family, and all I can say is good-riddance. In the end, we persevered. The backlash never came from who I suspected and that has been a constant in life - people always surprise me or rather my pre-conceived notions (prejudices?) are usually wrong. It colored (no pun intended) every aspect of life as you have to always be aware of your surroundings; avoid certain areas; travel/vacations in large cities with more diversity and so forth - it is a consideration in everything.

A son joined us and I took notice of the slights and treatment directed his way. I held him close and took what bullets I could, but in the end I could not control it or shield him. He had to learn the hard realities. He had to be prepared to navigate and survive. 

A by-product I only really noticed lately is people speaking in low tones when any topic related to race comes up. They approach it carefully, they eye me carefully, gauging my reaction. In reality, I ignore most of it and the people these days as my expectations are low.

Relationships are hard enough by themselves, the added scrutiny does not help. A byproduct of the experience is more compassion for all others not following a traditional path. Life is hard and people are doing their best to survive the daily grind and find happiness - live and let live.

Who has the time?

I thought I would have more time to write or do whatever as I got older, but I seem to be busier than ever or just too tired to do anything. I write when the inspiration hits or there is something to complete (like this prompt), so maybe that is why I am not a professional writer as I never developed a discipline or routine to do it every day. I do find that once I have an idea/story in my head, it lives there - sometimes taunting (haunting?) me - until it is completely out of my system and on paper (virtual or real). 

There is no gray area

As the Three Dog Night songs says "The world is black, the world is white. It turns by day and then by night." Having been in a mixed relationship for many years, I quickly learned the difference between black and white in our society. Yes, I was naive. Very quickly I learned that I had no clue of anything related to race within our society - not a big surprise with me being a white guy. Being together irritated so many with no shortage of opinions, stares and comments. It was a shock in every sense of the word. I lost many so-called friends family, and all I can say is good-riddance. There were threats and a few fights, but we persevered. The backlash never came from who I suspected and that has been a constant in life - people always surprise me or rather my pre-conceived notions (prejudices?) are usually wrong. It colored (no pun intended) every aspect of life - we were always aware of surroundings; avoided certain areas; travel/vacations were in large cities with more diversity and so forth. Relationships are hard enough by themselves, the added scrutiny does not help. A byproduct of the experience is more compassion for all others not following a traditional path. Life is hard and people are doing their best to survive the daily grind and find happiness - live and let live.

Opportunities

I cannot for the life of me think of a single example of something I did not do and then got a second chance at it. The term "second chance" floods my brain with things I would love a second chance like if I had a second chance with school, I would have taken it more seriously and applied myself (the exact thing my teachers said I did not do). There is always the one that got a away, so maybe a second change with her would be good (or not). Furthermore, it has always been a personal motto to take advantage of the moment, so much so that a friend always made funny of me for telling them to do something because "who knows when you will get this chance again?" I have always used this approach when traveling for work - do and see things wherever they would send me, because who knows if I would ever return (in most cases I never did). Finally, my father passed away a couple years ago and my siblings groaned about wanting more time with him to tell them their thoughts (he was not a nice person), but I was content as I found many opportunities to give dad a so-called piece of my mind and he never shied away from doing the same to me - in the end, we both knew where the other stood. 

Why write?

I signed up for writing class because it was offered and I wanted to kickstart my writing and now I wonder if it was the best idea. You see, I signed up for the class long ago - seems like a year, but I guess it was a month. My mind was in a different place at that time, it was geared up to get things done and cross items off the mental to-do list which is where it found writing as a thing needing to get done. With that said, I signed up and forgot about it until the email arrived. My motivation is lacking, but I think this will still be good (this is my new mantra). Anyway, that is the gist of it, I look forward to working together.