Building Character (FINI)

"Sometimes we encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."

~ Fyodor Dostoevsky

31.

I have no real memories of childhood. Obviously, I remember what it's like to be a child; certain events from my childhood that spring to life if I dare wander back that far. But I can honestly say that I have no real "first memories," of early development. My father, who I now know to be an overworked and under-amused, die-hard introverted business man, is nowhere to be found in that search. There are hints of him here and there, phone conversations, weekend visits and the brainwashing of my Scotch-soaked mother, but nothing concrete. I remember her, too, but not as a "child." I say this as such because my memories of life seem to start out at a much farther along rate than those of people with who I am acquainted. I'm not sure if I actually popped out at 6 or 7 years of age, or if a lifetime of living in a parallel universe has broken my ability to actively think chronologically... 

For what it's worth, my father is one of those people who never smiles and when he does, it's as if some child's nightmare is about to come true somewhere. He has that perpetually red face that is either alcoholism or some serious stress issue (neither would shock me, but both are probably to blame). I don't know him very well. He and I are from the complete opposite ends of the personality spectrum, though I have to admit that our attitudes have successfully blackballed us from the rest of our family. It happened to him for being a cutthroat and an obsessive, almost demented ladder-climber, while I went the more predictable route of thieving, swindling, drugs and jail sentences.
My father is the type of person that sees the entire world as some sort of odd parody of the business office, where he is the man in charge and everyone else is some kind of subordinate. He interacts with everyone this way, which is why I find him so goddamned amusing to be around. It could be said that I have an almost insufferable ability to "not take things seriously," so being around this man is like watching reality television. The really odd thing about of this is that when I look at him interacting with me, there's that same look of absolute awe. Neither of us can possibly fathom the other's motivations or train of thought. It's as if we're both looking at blueprints for some sort of  bizarre android that we not only have to figure out and then build, but spend the rest of our lives interacting with. I would assume that it's frustrating for him, as I know for a fact that unless he is in the same room with me, I'd rather not speak to him at all.
This is a man who came from the furthest of the back hills in the mountains of North Carolina, worked his ass off to educate himself, destroyed anyone who got in the way of what he was doing, then somehow forgot what in the hell it was like to be a real human being along the way. His tolerance for failure is nonexistent, his temperament is that of a nest of hornets, his sense of humor is what can only be described as bleak and yet through all of this, there is no one that I'd rather have dinner and a glass of wine with. When he's not playing the part of Dr. X's horrible automaton, he has a deep insight into the way the professional world works and why. He's quite interesting to talk to, and if I didn't know better, I'd say that he has a very serious passion for the good life brewing underneath all of the bourgeois. This is a man who knows fine culinary values, has impeccable taste in fermented beverages, and will pretend to be interested in almost anything you say to him (which is important to someone that talks as much as I do).
To call him "dry" is an understatement, but I still miss the ol' bastard. I should probably call him up and annoy the shit out of him sometime soon.




34.

Robert Jones
You're probably doing the same old shit, despite the fact that you're close to 15 years older, aren't you? I remember us playing Mortal Kombat 3 on the Super Nintendo, drinking underage and being the guys that invented playing playing basketball on the dance floor. I can picture you drinking Corona with no lime and falling for pyramid schemes. I hope you've smartened up.  Where are you and what's going on?

Josh Babb
You kinda disappeared from life after your liver failure. I'm not sure what happened, but I miss us listening to music for hours on end; you always carrying around that briefcase meant for holding cassette tapes. We used to hit up Manifest Records for used tapes and were always on top of the trends. I heard rumors that you've been spotted in and around Charlotte, NC. Is this true? Have you come out of hiding?

Brandon "Peanut" Sullivan
What the hell happened? I went from living on your couch to you living on mine and then you just vanished one day. Heard you had a kid that you love, even though the family life didn't work out for you. I hope things are well. You still playing the hell out of that bass? Are you still living as a local legend in some band or another? I got a mysterious text from your number not too long ago and haven't heard from you since. Are you trying to make contact?


32.

I once knew a really bright kid by the name of ...let's call him Tobias. I say "knew" and "kid" in a really loose manner, as I still talk to him fairly often and he is in his late 20's. I guess what I mean to say is that I don't really know him like I thought I did, and "kid" is just me using the parlance of my times. This is a guy who has everything he needs going for him. He's good looking, educated, diverse in his interests and talents, has a supportive (if not slightly dysfunctional) family, yet is probably one of the most infuriating people I know. In fact, I often try not to think about the guy.
For what it's worth, Tobias has a good work ethic. However, I think it has less to do with the fact that he is serious about anything in any way, and more to do with the fact that he just doesn't know anything else, or have anything better to do with his time. After all, when prompted to speak on the subject of work (which oddly enough happens even when he isn't prompted), you can be sure that he will complain about whatever he happens to be doing at any given point in time, all while completely aware that he alone can change his life. He's been a truck driver, a bar tender, a waiter, a cook, ect and he never seems happy with any of it. As if having to do anything is just some monumental inconvenience to his sitting around and feeling sorry for himself.
I often bring up going to school when talking to him. I tell him that grants and loans can carry him through at least a two year degree. I tell him that he doesn't necessarily have to "work his way through" school, because if spent wisely, loan monies can pay off bills for months in advance. To any of this, he inevitably responds in a fashion similar to the fact that he can't afford to commute back and forth. Or that he isn't sure what he wants to do; that he doesn't have time, as he works such and such hours a week.
I know that these are issues that do actually plague people. I really do. But I also understand that he isn't one of these people. His rent is fixed; it includes all of his utilities and is ludicrously cheap. He could easily afford it working part time. He has no car payment or insurance payments, as his mother takes care of all of that for him. I'm simply left to believe that he is unwilling to change. I'm not sure if he's scared of change, worried about responsibility, insecure or what. I just know that even when I was living with him, making double what he made a week at two jobs, he was still like this. And this is a time when he had no excuses whatsoever. I could have completely taken up the slack at that point in time, and he could have done whatever he wanted. Yet...nothing.
I'm not sure why all of this bothers me so goddamned much. Perhaps it's because I care about him and want him to succeed. Maybe it's because I have little patience for people who are unwilling to take chances. I do know that if it isn't necessary, I don't think of him often. I guess I'm just waiting for the day that he surprises me. Waiting for the day that he's actually the happy persona that he fronted on me when we first started hanging out. Being happy isn't a cardinal sin, and neither is doing whatever it takes to make yourself that way, so long as you aren't hurting anyone along the way.