Awaken

Bobble-Headed

It’s a Saturday, in the evening.  I’m playing nice, acknowledging my partnership duties, being personable & friendly at a social event for the significant other. I’ve already made my rounds at least once through the crowd, small-talking & smiling the usual insignificant casualties of satellite gatherings.

I make my way back to the basement for another beer and breath free from the congestion. Poster boy for ‘Growing-Up-Gotti’ is sitting solo on a couch in the host’s man-cave rustling through his green-eye stash, sampling the scents.

“And what’re you doing over there?”  I ask, laughing, as I grab another beer from the mini-frig.

He responds, something or other, unintelligible and forgettable, as usual…

Junior Mr. dial tone doesn’t have much of a personality yet, young & not yet having the true knowledge of who he is or why, much less the intrigue to inspire figuring that out.

Silly me, ever the optimistic one, presumes that being it‘s only he and I in the room, that this may be the best chance I’ll have at stealing a moment’s peace, for a while at least…

He returns the wackie-tabackie back to its drawer, chinning up, as if to show his in-laws that this sort of indulgence is part of his past only, due to his new role of fatherhood.

I sit down on the couch adjacent from him, twist off the cap and lean back.  I notice he’s looking anxious, uneasy.  He’s to & fro between looking me in the eye and looking down at the table.  And then after a series of shallow breaths, it comes…

“I’m not going to stand for you disrespecting my wife.” 

Taken aback, I immediately smirk and let out a little snicker. 

“Uh,” I pause, swallowing my sip, “I.. don’t.. recall.. disrespecting your wife…” 

“Well I noticed you didn’t say hello to her.”  He blurts out, fidgeting his fingers into themselves and his knees back & forth from the couch.

“No, no I didn’t.”  I shake my head, my eyes peering him into proceeding as I’m amazed (for a moment only) that this battery-operated bobble-head actually mustered up even enough drunken courage to defend his better half’s supposed honor.

“Uh, and she.. didn’t exactly.. say hello.. to me either…” I add.

“And she’s not going to.”  He exaggerates, forcing the conviction through his eyelids.

“Well then I guess, I’m more than just okay with that, considering…” I twist my neck, slightly nodding.

“She has disrespected me though…” I add again, understanding the obvious irrelevance.

Funny, of the pair, I’ve always held more respect for her than him.  I figure at least she has a backbone, warped as the opinions that spawn from it may often be…

A moment passes before he thinks to add, “And you know I’m partial, you do know that, right?”

“Oh,” I nod in affirmation. “I would expect nothing less of you…” I let it linger a second or two before adding, “or more for that matter.” At this point, my tone is snide but I’m on the safer side of civil. 

It’s not as though I didn’t expect to sail through this evening without at least someone saying something to me about my consistency in inconsistency.  There aren’t many here I expect to understand the way I see the world, especially when their heart’s interests are vested where I’ve chosen to partner.

Being that I’ve not really argued nor elaborated upon anything he’s come at me with, I sense that he’s left unsatisfied. I watch him frustrate internally before his nerve rises and he’s able to spit out the silence.

“So you’re having a baby.  Everything’s different now, you realize that, right?” 

I’m writhing as my smile remains intact.  In his tone, I can already tell where this is headed.  He’s been eyeing me up more and more each time I’ve seen him over the past year, commenting on his inability to connect with me thus far through the four years of history we’ve been forced to share.

“I know you’re a very creative person.  You’re very much an individual.”

“Well thank you!” I interject unapologetically, while nodding in defiance.  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He continues on as if not to lose his train of thought, “You realize it’s not just about you anymore, that it’s all about your family now, right?”

And as though I hadn’t seen it coming, my teeth begin to burn beneath my breath… 

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea about how to prioritize the importance in my life right now, and in general, typically.”

This clueless halfwit is really about to try to school me on what it means to be a man, a family man no less, 3 months after becoming a father himself, as if he knows anything about me, my background, my past, my family, or the lengths I would go to for those close to my heart.

“So then, you’re not planning on leaving again, are you?

“Uh, no, no I don’t.. have any.. actual.. plans… to leave.”  At this point I’m still well behaved, why I’m bothering to be I’m not quite clear on.  I can laugh at his transparency all the while.  I’ve always observed his being intimidated by me, especially my interaction with his father-in-law who too holds no real respect for him.

He then proceeds to take it even further.  “You know every word, every action matters.  You’ve made some mistakes, and I have too…”

I know what he’s referring to and I become overwhelmingly aghast!

“Do Not dare talk to me about mistakes!  And do not assume you and I have anything in common, whatsoever.  You’re a monkey from where I sit.  Because if you really believed you’d actually made a mistake, you’d have some character by now, but you don’t!  I’ve never beaten my woman, or anything close to it!  I guess you think that because you beat the shit out of your wife that you’ve learned from your mistakes and you’ve since been forgiven.  That’s what’s wrong with you fucking Christians, especially you ‘born again’ Christians.  You naïvely convince yourself that your God’s absolved you of your sins and that you’re suddenly some new and better person because of it.  Well guess what!  You’re the only one who has the power to absolve your sins.  Why would God help someone too lazy to help himself?  And the only way you could actually ‘absolve’ yourself is by going inward and finding & acknowledging why it actually happened so it doesn’t happen again!  But that’s impossible for you to contemplate because you couldn’t fathom taking the time even to find out who you are because you’re too chicken-shit to realize that you don’t know who you are.  And you’re too oblivious to admit that you don’t have a clue, so how could you ever actually get up and go do the work.  You’d rather claim you’ve submitted to your ‘Lord’s will’ so you can play powerless to it.  And to think, from what I’ve heard, you’ve had an understandably shitty life, or at least a shitty family past, which to me, at least from past observations, can often have one fortunate side effect, that it presents you with a life that could have/should have created some actual stand-up character in you… But I guess it’s like they say, you can lead a horse to water but you can’t…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  He interjects.  “What about my family?” Everything I’ve said has become lost in simply mentioning his family.  I’m surprised at this point that he hasn’t hit me yet, considering everything I’ve so provokingly just spewed upon him.  I guess bringing up his past shocked him enough to give up the meat-head testosterone aggression.

“It means that you have no personality!  No mind of your own!  There’s not even the slightest bit of substance in any of your opinions.  You walk around at each one of these gatherings nosing up to people trying to make them like you, outwardly flaunting an array of second hand personality traits, like a ghost coasting under the guise of a personality comprised of what you perceive is the best of what other men’s ideals and beliefs are.  Even in ‘confronting’ me just now, if you could even call it that, you’re completely transparent!  You so long for the approval of these people that in hopes of making them think you’re someone of substance, you’ve taken on the most worthy cause you could come up with, ie: ME, the ‘creative guy,’ the one who’s ‘left’ more than once.  But you don’t really know me.  You don’t know the circumstances for my leaving.  And you don’t care to know.  Admit it!”

“That’s not true Shawn.  The last time I saw you, I said to you in front of everyone that I wanted to get to know you, that you were the one person I couldn’t connect to yet.”
“Exactly, in front of everyone!  Just like I said.”  Like most people, give them enough rope and they hang themselves, he walks right into making my point for me… 

“And the reason you’ve always felt that way around me is because I’ve had to consciously search for something worthy within you to sympathize with just to find some level of common ground with you but to no avail!  So if I’m forced to talk to a person in the same way that I apologize to a dog after accidentally stepping on its tail, then it’s beyond obvious to me that there’s absolutely no reason for me to try any harder. I’ve shared space with you for over 4 years now and I’ve waited, given you more than once the benefit of my doubts, but again, nothing!  So no, I don’t try ‘connecting’ to you.  And that makes you extremely intimidated by me.  You feel transparent around me and the resentment obviously builds…  So what do you do?  Tonight you actually think I’ll let you get away with attacking every aspect of my character due to your insecurity in your lack thereof, and under the guise of being the ‘concerned’ and ‘protective’ family member…  Are you serious?  What’s most funny is that you don’t realize you’re not even family here.  You’ve married in, and you’re nothing more than a satellite, not unlike me, in this regard ONLY… [I clarify]  You do realize that no one here could give a shit about you, right?  I doubt even your wife truly does!  The only purpose you serve here is to stand on the arm of your wife so she doesn’t look like a whore who got knocked up on a one night stand, and probably to pay your due physical and financial support in raising the child.  Now don’t get me wrong, they wouldn’t want to see either of us ‘satellites’ run over by a truck, but otherwise, we are of no consequence here.  And after having accepted that, realize that on top of their basic lack of concern, no one here likes, much less respects you.  And why?  Because you live your entire life from the neck down!”

“What?  From the neck down?  What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll give you the minute to try and wrap your mind around it…” I laugh mocking his impotence even further…

“Look!”  He shrugs off my riddle.  “All anyone can ever expect of me is consistency!”

“And that’s what I mean.  You pride yourself in ignorance, denying taking yourself even a step further, even as you long for their acceptance. And you wear these things upon your chest like some deranged badges of honor, as if you long for these ridiculous ideals to prove your worth. Every aspect of your existence, your job, your marriage, your spirituality, and every one of your relationships, each is lived from the neck down, only, and your head just bobbles above, floating there, looking fucking stupid!  And you wonder why no one here respects you.  Why should they, simply because you’re now ‘family’ to them?  Maybe through your veil of perception that’s enough, but not to me, and apparently, not to them either!  God bless them!  Respect comes from the heart, period.  It can’t be regulated and distributed via loyalties, laws, and definitely not liaisons…”

With this, I stand up from the couch.  He’s staring at me dumbfounded and drunk, silent. There’s no sense in attempting to engage myself intellectually any further with someone like this. Tomorrow he’ll continue on his meandering path as he always has and he’ll write this off as nothing more than an uncomfortable intoxicated conversation… And that’s more than okay with me…