I Could Make You A Memory

The 1,968 of you who watch the Facebook videos I do haven’t figured out yet that I could make you a memory.

I could close up shop and disappear forever. I could fall out of bed bang my head, get hit by a bus, struck by lightning or fall into a flaming pit.

If it happened I would be gone without notice and you’d have no idea where I went or if you should go looking.

Because it is possible I chose to disappear just as it is possible that I was snatched by space aliens but not the kind who give me a suit that gave me special powers.

Some of you don’t believe I would ever do such a thing or that the aliens could take me against my will because I am a force of nature who has proven I have a very particular set of skills.

So I propose you imagine for a moment what would happen if I was gone forever and you had no ability to ever communicate with me again.

It is not hard for me to picture as that is the experience I am having right now with dear old dad. Ya know, my own old man who walked out into the corn fields and left us hear to do our thing without him.

I Could Make You A Memory

Wednesday I am going in for a physical and I have a list of questions for the doc. I want to know more about certain things and figure out if they are stress related or part of my almost being middle aged.

I want know what I can do to change a few things because I am DONE with a couple of them.

Cue Toto as we sing along with “I seek to cure what’s deep inside, frightened of this thing that I’ve become.”


There is a guy sitting at the edge of the bench I like to use. He is screwing around with his phone, oblivious to the crazy bearded man staring at him.

For a moment I debate whether I want to wait for him to finish because as a creature of habit I have come to see the bench he is sitting on as being a talisman for lifting more weight.

The guy looks up and we make eye contact and he smirks at me as if he is someone special. “I have another set, give me a moment dude.”

He gets up, adds a 25 to each side and makes a show of stretching.

I look at him and do my own peacock impression but instead of 25s I throw two 45s on each side of my bar.

Time for the the almost middle aged man to show junior who is boss.

Throw on the right music, lay back and start pumping. The bar goes up and down with less effort than it took before and I feel like I can almost grab a hold of that which I have been reaching for.

I am learning to walk again and figuring out what it is like to be awake after a long slumber.

Three more sets and I wander to the bathroom to wash my face. The old guy in the mirror tells the reflection I could make a you memory and the reflection mocks him back.

“I could make a you memory…too.”

Wrestling With Angels

I don’t know why, but once we reached the hospice I kept waiting/expecting dad to sit up one last time.

It never happened and I don’t think it matters that it didn’t. I didn’t ask him to do it and I wouldn’t have but I wanted to see it.

I think I wanted to see one last “fuck you” I am going on my own terms and the funny thing about my desire to see it is that I did.

They told us dad wasn’t going to make it through the night and that is why I sat on the plane from Texas to LA searching for some kind of magic to use to make the plane fly faster.

Dad made it a full five nights beyond what the docs had said and I know if he had believed it necessary he could have gone longer.

The point is my desire to have him sit up is a selfish one that doesn’t have meaning because he did it anyway, but I share it because I figure the better I understand this moment in time the easier it is to get beyond it.

You know because when my old friend darkness comes I run towards it instead of away as I did as a kid.

There was a moment not long after dad’s diagnosis when I listened as he told me some of what he thought it would be like when I said if he ended up wrestling with angels to high five me so I could tag in.

He made a face and I said if believed that Jacob could wrestle with an angel why couldn’t we.

“Grandpa told me he would punch the grim reaper in the nose so why can’t we do the same. Why can’t we look at the Angel of Death and say we are the baddest motherfuckers in the valley and work him over.

Dad smiled and told me to take care of my mom and sisters and thus I got my marching orders.

Back At The Thirsty Lion

I had planned on being back at the Thirsty Lion last Friday, a day after having been sheared and partially shorn of all this extra hair upon my head and face.

But my barber was booked so the cut got clipped and I chose not to go.

Unless something crazy happens I am going to get it done tomorrow and then I’ll go back to The Thirsty Lion.

It is a dad kind of place and located near some places I go for meetings with regularity.

The last time I was there I saw a guy who reminded me of Desmond from Lost. If he had said he’d see me in another life I would have nodded my head and said ‘aye.’

I have said it to a few and will say to a few more. “I’ll see you in another life.”

We never know what will happen or how it all goes. I could make you a memory is such an egotistical thing to say.

It lacks the full force of truth but it has just enough power to maybe make something of it…or maybe not.

(Visited 48 times, 1 visits today)


Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Please enter an e-mail address

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

You may also like
%d bloggers like this: