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I Kan't Spell



Thursday, June 01, 2006

 
Going Back to my Roots

I was 17 or so and I was in the back of a car riding up Bel Air road. In the back, for the first time, I was with 3 girls, crowded into of a small Honda Accord. They were sipping out of 40's and drinking Wine Coolers and smelling like Liz Taylor's Sunflower perfume. It may have been the most erotic and sexually charged moment of my rather novice beginning.

I remember a kid named DJ was driving. He had side burns down his face and what we called a "chin strap" goatee coming down underneath. He bobbed his head as 2pac's "Me and MY Girlfriend" played on the speakers that rattled when the base hit too hard. I saw him sing out the line "I love finger fuckin you..." and I wanted to be him.

I looked at the girls next to me and they were all bobbing their heads and so I did too. They had big bangs with their hair peeled back against their scalp. They were wearing belly shirts and jeans tight enough that no secrets were kept between their thigs and the seat below. I was attracted to all of them not just one of them. It was more of the mystery of them being girls then anything they individually had that made me act like the young kid driving. They loved him. They wanted to fuck him. I thought if I could be him they would want to fuck me too. They didn't.

I got out of the car at the Jiffy Lube near my house. I saw some of the guys that I went to high school with already congregated there. I went to a different high school then the kids that were in the car. We didn't allow facial hair or consorting with girls during school hours. We wore ties and khakis. A few of my school friends were standing off to the side, girl less, sipping on beers. I felt hard getting out of the car with 4 girls. I knew that the girls hadn't said two words to me in the 40 minutes we had spent in the back of the car but my friends didn't know that. I walked across the parking lot with more confidence. I walked to them with my held high and shoulders back.

My friend Danny laughed at me.

"Bret, seriously dude. You won't know any of those people in 10 years. Actually you won't want to remember them in 10 years. Don't you understand that we are a better more interesting breed."

I didn't fully agree with him but I understood. I got into Danny's Mom's Talon (I can't remember what company made that brand of car). We drove home and it was 10 pm. The other kids, from the other schools, from the same lives, but with different asperations, I knew they were going to go smoke weed and drink flat warm beer in one of the parent's basement. They would never leave that basement.

"Bret, seriously dude, don't fraternize with those people. It doesn't make sense." I should have listened to that advice a long time ago. I should have tried to elevate myself instead of just trying to be like everyone else.

I was succesful once. I was promising and had what some thought was a bright future. I lost that somewhere along the way. I lost faith in me. That needs to stop immediately. And some people will read this and think it's about being a snob or it's about looking down on people. I have no right to do that. I am no better than anyone else and I know that. I know that I'm only one awful thing in my life from being destitute or in terminal pain. I understand these things. My point is that those people I used to know, and most of the people I know aren't me.

I was only good when I was alone. I was only good when I didn't anyone else to invite me to things or make plans for me. I made my own way and my own moves. I find myself now much too dependent on other people's good times.

I don't know what that means in the short or long run but I know I feel sufficated by the idea that I am not living fully. I am simply conforming. It's not necessarily the people that can change me for the better, but I know what I have now doesn't help me. It's time to evolve once again. It's time to be strong again. I've missed me.

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Like the guy with the beard? YES - like the guy with the beers. What? Yep

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"You Son of a Bitch" An Open Letter to Tom Friend
Dance to Your Ocean
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When men become pussies
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Pitchfork takes music snobbery to new level
The Cosmic Clash of the Red Sox and Cubs
The Hatred that is Runts Candy
Starting corporate line-up
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Do you know me? List 1 / List 2 / List 3
The Night I Burned Philly Down
So You Want to be a Booze Hound
She Said it was Free
Funniest Corporate Story Ever
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Death Peddle
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Pieces of Morning
Oasis Album Revew
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Starting Fires With Grass Stains
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