Skewed

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE: Geez. I Really DO Suck....

In which our hero shows more of himself.

[Saturday afternoon, October 4th, Metamora, IL]

"I am finding no evidence to refute the theory that there is nobody that I had been involved with that hasn't gone on to a vastly more successful relationship (1). That does nothing but encourage me to take efforts to keep all of my memories of Number One in a place quite secure from the intrusion of reality (2)."

(1) Three parts pity party, one part unproven theory. As hold with most things of this ilk, a small nugget of truth is indeed present. I'm not quite sure how to word this , so just stick with me for a moment. There are people I had relationships with in the past. These frequently ended badly because of my high level of idiocy. There are also people I had wanted to be involved in a relationship with who wouldn't touch me because of my high level of idiocy and/or the fact that they had a line on something else. I think that loosely covers the groups of women I still pine over. The disproof of this theory would lie in finding just one example of someone whose relationships had not gone on to something better. And why would I want to find that person? So I could dance around them and say, "You should have stayed with me!! Nyah!! Nyah!! Nyah!!"?That tends to make the statement fairly transparent as a way to get these women I am/was attracted to to say something positive about me. Because, in doing so, I guess I see a tiny bit of hope that I may still have a chance with them after all. A pretty manipulative way to weasel a compliment out of someone and at the same time administer a backhanded ego stroke/threat minimization to the significant other.

(2) The most obvious reason for this is also the one that puts me on the least stable footing. While I look at those memories (wildly inaccurate as they must be) and see the person I was sort of getting to know 20 years ago, the memories she would be looking at would be those of the jerk that I was 20 years ago. My memories are unrealistically slanted towards the positive, but i doubt I could say the same for hers. And that supposition rests heavily on the further assumption that she has any memories of me at all. And backing all of this up is the incorrect thought process whereby we remember the things that support our theories, and forget those that do not. So, I have spent years and years cultivating these memories of these people trying to make them become something that may have only actually been that way for the briefest of moments of their lives. If at all. Talk about chasing after shadows.

** It was an exhausting weekend moving MSD and the Giant to Fort Wayne. I think it will take many months before I find myself willing to consider helping anyone else move.

** "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull" Didn't quite manage to live up to the hype in my opinion. It was better than 'Temple', but still not up to the level of 'Raiders' or 'Crusade'.

**I am really liking the thought of doing a rebuild of a classic Rifleman. For some reason I seem to have rotary AC/2s on the brain. A quartet of those could put just over a ton of AP shells way downrange every 10 seconds. To me, that sounds like a good thing.

** Still not sure if my separated banana plant is dead or not. It doesn't look dead, but it shows no signs of growth, either.

** My yellow thumb also extends to the aquarium. So far it seems to be resisting my efforts to revive its plant population. Not sure what to try next.

Location

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT: Rock In The Park

In which our hero sits in the sun some more.

[Saturday afternoon, October 4th, Metamora, IL]

"I'm sitting in a small park on the south side of Metamora. Off to my right and maybe 30 yards away is a pinkish boulder that marks the site of 2 of the Lincoln-Douglas debates that happened in the 1800's. One of the houses where I used to live is abut 3 blocks NW of here. Of course, it bears only a passing resemblance to the way I remember it "WEIBTY" (1). So for the moment, I'm just sitting in the sun and doing some writing (2). Gonna head over and say hello to Steve's folks (3) for a bit, then back to the hotel for a nap maybe (4). Then it will be time to get cleaned up for the event. "WEIBTY" will most likely be the order of the evening, along with a vast sense of disconnect and distance (5). Why am I doing this again (6)? Monte and Jana had the right idea, I'm starting to think (7). "WEIBTY" "

(1) Whaddya Expect, It's Been Twenty Years" This is what the common sense voice kept saying in my head, over and over and over again through the whole weekend.

(2) No, I did a lot of writing. I killed a pen, I wrote so much. There is a slight chance that it died of boredom, though.

(3) This was one of very few points in the weekend that was very much the same. Strange how often dinosaur poo comes up in conversation.

(4) Never got the nap.

(5) Less of the first than I had thought, but slowly increasing levels of the last two throughout the evening.

(6) It was supposed to be a fun weekend away from home. That's not quite how it turned out.

(7) Or, they're just much better adjusted adults than I am. Either way, the end result is the same.

Interlude

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN: Play It Again, Chris

In which our hero identifies with a lyric

He's the boy with the messy mind

It's hard to find the time to clear it

He's the boy with the broken brain

Not insane but never happy

Sharpen up those fangs

Not insane but never happy

It can be quite tricky when you attach yourself to the words of someone else. They never end up meaning the same thing to anyone else who reads them. For the moment, though, this seems to work.