Day 02
3(1) days of write. I’m going to write at least a page every day, until February first. Because that’s how long (well, actually 10 days extra) it takes for an activity to become a habit.
Today was a bit of a mess.
The plan was to meet Tom (from yesterday’s blog) at a car dealership, 6:30am. that way we could be in Orlando at 8:30am sharp, because the auctions started at 9. By 6:45 there was no Tom, and having had two hours sleep, I was ready to pull the plug. I called my Mom to ask what was up, and she said “maybe he’s hiding.”
Mom. Why would he be hiding?
“Well, he’s only spoken to me on the phone, and he knows you’re my son. Maybe he wants to know why there’s someone lurking outside his office… a neeeeeggrrooo.”
Mom you didn’t tell him we’re black?
“It didn’t come up.”
Grr.
This might be a somewhat foreign experience for many but, the primary problem (one of the primary problems) with racism is that it exists, and it is hidden. You just don’t know who doesn’t like black people. Especially in the south. So there’s always the chance that the person you spoke to on the phone will see you and think “Shit. Nigger.”
Anyway, we drive to Orlando, and for the first part of the ride I’m terrified.
First: The seat I was in was not a seat at all, but one of those crap fold out things that stewardesses (nee flight attendants) sit on for the 20 minutes of take off and landing, because any longer would be wrong.
Then there were his truths
Second: “Wow, this van sure is top heavy.”
Third: “Easy on the heat… it makes me tired.”
Fourth: “No radio? Uh oh…”
Fifth: “I’m not sure if I should take this over 70mph…”
We get there in one piece, and we chat, and, as usual, within 15 minutes of getting into this guy’s story, I feel miserable.
His dad was military, and he says Okinawa was the best time of his life. He was maybe 12. He’s in his 50s now. It sounds as if the intervening years have been awful. It makes me sad for him, and for everyone, because none of us really want/need that much to be happy, but it seems like none of us get it, and we all go through it, bearing our crosses on our own. My seat was far too uncomfortable for all that.
more tomorrow, it’s 3am (I must be lonely)