This entry is posted with some caution knowing there are probably sore feelings on my dad's end. I'm only mentioning him because he's the only one who reads my site. My sister won't read it because she thinks all I post about is sex and bizarre fetishes. Mom doesnt't understand why I maintain heptapod.org.
Sadly, none of the studios would play it straight and they'd give him a dry, cool wit.
Anyway the story which came to mind was The Whisperer in Darkness. Not The Whisperer in the Darkness but The Whisperer in Darkness. Mmmmmaybe Shadow over Innsmouth.
Spot says, "After all. They're family. They'll understand and won't take it personally."
The concept of family has always been a troublesome one for me. Unlike faith in some deity, families are tangible and are a measurable phenomena that requires little in the way of faith. I know my parents are my parents. I know my sister is my sister. Yet one of the troubling aspects of family has always appeared around family reunions.
Sure it can be considered something wonderful but I'm baffled by it. My father's side of the family is big and there are plenty of uncles, aunts and cousins. Whenever I went to one of these events I always wondered why they were so friendly towards me if I never made their acquaintance before that time. They don't know me, they don't know if I have a basement full of dead hookers or I'm selling methamphetamine to kindergarteners or if the past four years of my life has been spent researching a cancer vaccine which will be freely available to everyone.
Funny thing is that I usually don't see these people ever again. Reckon it's nice if there's a group of people who will readily accept a person solely on the basis of their genetic heritage. The simplicity could be considered beautiful.
So it's about faith. Somehow there's some social bond between kin which transcends one's personal foibles or triumphs. As you may know, gentle and constant reader, I'm not a person who accepts the concept of faith. If there was some all knowing deity who is the embodiment of love then it would intercede on the behalf of its subjects. Faith is an extension of trust and I don't trust God. I can not trust someone that I do not know as a person.
Plus I feel alienated from my immediate family. This is above and beyond the fact that I'm living in Colorado Springs. My mother has always been the angry one wielding power, my father was always trying to keep the peace and I'd only talk with my sister on a sporadic basis. Plus I really don't know about my sister since she thinks forwarding stupid shit to me is akin to actual correspondence.
One of the things I've been doing on my own is trying to make my own family. Brian is my brother. Jaybird and maribou are my family. raddidge is my family. Spot is my little girl and she's family too. When it comes to these people I've gotten to know and love them. I always see family as getting to know and then accept or tolerate the individual on the sole basis of their genetic relationship to you.
The place that I really like is the Plaza 22 Diner. Also Forno's of Spain in Newark. Some lowbrow pizzaria or hole in the wall Chinese place.
So I told Jaybird and Jaybird said, "It's not about you. It's about him."
Thing is, I've already told my father about this and he begged me to play along and be happy with it.
Meh, I'm sure raddidge will like it. Gotta compromise. Sigh.
A great Victorian house stood alone surrounded by tall grass and brown weeds. Inside I discovered it was mostly empty, a vast staircase led halfway up the side and then took a right against the wall continuing to a partial floor about fifty feet above me. The wall to my left and in front of me was entirely made up of windows. Each window was about 5 feet by five feet. I couldn't see how they were attached to each other or the frame of the house but I was fascinated and frightened that they would collapse on me.
As I ascended the stairs I noticed some windows which were decidedly out of reach were open or just cracked open. Fortunately none of the windows had been broken. I never made it to the top of the stairs but I knew it was someone's bedroom. For a minute I had a realization it was Chris Farley's bedroom. That's when I decided it was time to go out and get a job.
I knew that I could live in that building. The sunsets would be amazing to watch through those glass walls. Still a man doesn't live on bread alone and I needed work to support myself.
A short walk later I found a tall, dark building with a narrow doorway. This building might've been shaped like a triangle and the entrance was through the narrowest corner. I could only see this one area. Even in dreams I'm morbidly obese but I was able to squeeze my way through. Now I was in the lobby of a fire department and someone who looked remarkably like Johnny Cakes from the titular sixth season episode of the Sopranos was sitting behind a desk.
"I'm lookin for work. Got anything?" This felt like the most futile question since firefighters are supposed to be strong enough to carry someone my size down a ladder over their shoulder. Enough endurance to not get tired or winded even when both lungs are full of smoke. The captain leaned forward and started typing on his computer, "You're in luck. There's a dispatcher position open in Newark and you can start tomorrow."
Shocked by my luck, I was afraid. Something was up yet in retrospect it was completely honest. Second guessing the situation was my downfall. "I gotta think about it."
So I walked around the streets for the rest of the night wondering about the job. Maybe there's something better for me. Maybe I'll end up quitting. Maybe they'll fire me and go "LOL YOU CANT BE A FIREMAN".
When I went back he wanted to know if I made a decision. That's when I mentioned my father's name and the captain sat up straight and took notice of me. "Why didn't you say so before? Holy shit. Let's see if we can find anything better for you!"
I shook my head and started leaving and he started shouting at me. "Fuck you, kid. Don't you walk away from me. I was giving this to you out of pity. Piece of shit if you ever show your face in here you'll be sorry."
I never got back to that house. I couldn't find it again.
