Transitional Fossil

" The question isn't "who is going to let me"; it's "who is going to stop me".
Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

Saturday, February 18, 2006

3AM Phone call

[pilfered pic]

Every now and again we all get that call. The call that makes us feel like we've got it really better than most. This was one time when it was my turn in the barrell.
Phone rings, three o'clock. I've been the one making these phone calls, years ago. I fell asleep one time. My friend was pissed.

Anyway, the phone rings. It's my friend. In Jiveland, anyone can be your friend. There are varying degrees of friends. From "Hey" friends to good friends. This was a friend. One that I would talk to at 3AM and not tell him to call back tomorrow. He tells me in a confidentlly slurred voice about his life. Here it is, in not-so-clearly remembered order:

The Rundown
1. He lost his job at a shitty firm two weeks ago
2. Trying to start his own company with two kids
3. He's having a little trouble in the erectile penile department
4. Personal accumulated debt: $8K
5. He loves his wife, he's still alive, and a little unsure of himself.
6. He thought about all his problems in one big, unformed pre-historic black mass. He walked to the bathroom. He tells me that he's only telling me this to tell me. Not for any other reason. Pills here and there. He closes his eyes and a can imagine each one stumbling down his throat. The ones that didn't topple to the floor. Gulping down a big glass of water and staring at himself, realizing he can't take it back.
But he's just talking. He laughs a desperate laugh and tells me that it can't all be that bad. Right??

I comfort him best I can. He alternates laughing and sobbing and sipping on the motivating liquid behind the call. Think to myself this is the true test of a friend. The two paths are to repeat those phrases of comfort away from the reality hurtling towards him. Or. Tell him the facts but there are people that have been through a lot worse and encourage personal effort and growth.

And that right now, not far enough away, I'm thinking that there are people, sweaty, on a dance floor, or some kid watching his parents play American Gladiators, but for real. Right now someone's eating pizza or pissing in public for the first time. But I'm getting nostalgic.

I'll give him some advice from Bob Marley and hang up. The question is do I believe Bob ["Every little thing, gonna be alright..." for the uninitiated] and does it matter?? I can see how the problems we endure can seem overwelming. Stepping in shit may be good luck, but you still have to clean your shoe. Or your foot. Well it depends where the shit is...who's the shitter...anyway...

Ok. Back to Dreamland. Where the Reality is.


  • At 8:38 AM, December 10, 2008 , Blogger Lady Writer said...

    I'm just randomly going through your archives, since I don't see anything new.

    - If you can't move forward, move on back...

    Just did a piece on Friendship - this piece seems so coincidentally relative right now.

    *sigh* It's so good to have archives...


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