Thursday, May 05, 2005

The problem with Normal is that it only gets worse.

A life lesson. I don’t like sports. I’ve tried ‘casue it’s normal. And growing up and trying to fit in, normal ain’t a bad way to go. But, it didn’t take. I just never got into them. I like running around and playing tag, and what not. But throw more organization in that and I kinda hated it. I tried to hide it, but I was no good at it.
But I was watching TV (something I DID like to do…unless sports stuff was on). I saw the most wondrous thing to my young mind. It was this cool, high tech phone and it was free. This thing was a cool looking gadget, man. Streamlined, I think it may have had glowy bits, and it just was geeky gadget heaven (for the early ‘80s). There was a draw back. They way one got this phone is purchasing a subscription to “Sports Illustrated.” Ick. But a small price to pay, ‘cause, dig the phone man! At least I perceived it as a small price to pay—didn’t have the whole money thing down yet. And my dislike of sports was more passive then; I just didn’t like it; it’s not like now in which my hatred of sports is more active. But on the plus side, it came with another free item: a swimsuit calendar. Honesty time—I didn’t care about that. Not then. I was aware of girls. I thought the models were attractive, but I was more of a gadget fan. And I swear I’m being honest. I dig the hot chick imagery now…I mean look at the stuff I put in the art museum. And I’m very upfront about liking the imagery. And deep down, I knew coveting the phone was silly. Not totally off my rocker crazy, but not normal. I was a kid, yeah I talked to people often, but no big business deals were forged. And we did have a phone already. It was silly, but damnit the heart wants what the heart wants.
So being a kid with little or no money, in a family that was also not financially well off (my single mom with Diabetes and a heart condition did her best back then. I get that now.) But she did have SOME money, and I had none. So in order to get the stuff, I had to go through her. I asked her for the subscription to Sports Illustrated. She gave me that RCA Victor dog look. And rightfully so. I asked for Sports Paraphernalia. Like most moms, she had a prescience and insight about these things. And I might as well started speaking Mandarin Chinese, Lighting a Menorah, and walking solely on my hands. That would have been far less uncharacteristic. I think I probably hurt her head. She just said no. Didn’t much matter the reason, we didn’t have the cash. And like I said, it was out of character. But this phone was my “Red Rider BB Gun” (metaphorically, because I already had a real BB Gun).
I pursued the matter further. Like pretty much relentlessly. I wanted that fucking phone man. And, not to blame the marketing folks, but they pounded that commercial into the airwaves. It was on constantly. Enough, that my mom finally saw it. A little later she walked up to me slowly. She had that, sagacious, sensitive; “life enriching talk” looks.
“Tim, the “Sports Illustrated” thing.” Pregnant pause. I thought she was going to cave. She was a good mom. She raised us to be as not materialistic as possible. And we were at least vaguely aware of the bad money issues but she wanted us to be happy. She thought, paused, and said, “You know, it would be a lot cheaper if we just bought you a calendar with women in it” she said with every trace of earnest that a progressive, liberal mom would say to a kid who is about at that age.
Perspective set in. The whole “not-normal” thing came home to roost again. Just how stupid wanting that phone was, really became so damn apparent. And how I wanted that instead of the girlie calendar was really goofy.
“Yeah. That’s a good idea, mom.” But I never got that calendar ‘casue I’m telling you man, I really didn’t care back then. Plus as progressive and liberal as mom was (and possibly trying a bit too hard to fill in for an absentee father) the prospect of mom getting me a swimsuit calendar was just a little to…open for me.
I gotta tell you, she was glad when I first started dating.

Comments:
Eh, "normal" is over-rated.
 
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