On TikTok I ran across Cece, a musician singing over a country song Last Night by Morgan Wallen. The song is about a drunken night a couple spent having a hard time but the singer and the song say, “this ain’t over yet.” The TikTok video at the end of this post is a version of the internet’s “I Fixed It” thing...
So so much needs fixing all the time, ‘twas ever thus…
S. sent me a text, said, “We’re playing pool, go get A., meet us at the Legion.”
I don’t love going to the legion because there are a couple guys (one of them has a rank there) who sit and point and laugh at me and it’s v. uncomfortable. I talked to them about it once but it didn’t change anything. There are just places where I’m not much of anything. So I avoid that place unless I know that people (friends) I know are there playing pool–the table felt and bumpers are new, it’s super fast. Fun.
I walked in to see that S. and friends weren’t there yet, but other people were, people I call friends.
One of the men, I’ll call 8-Ball, who really took me under his billiards wing was there, but he was wearing a Tru*p hat. Red, white, and blue. I love those colors which gives many of my progressive associates pause. I understand the arguments. The vast pains. I do. I have a take on it all, all that I say when I talk about America. Anyway. 8-Ball’s friend, C., wore his MAGA hat. They all smiled when they saw me. As I said, I’m friendly. I love the complexity of relationships with lots of people. I love the goodness in the worst, try to stay kind about the worst in the good. I got a hug from R. who’ll show up in the book. Great character. Heartbreaker. Always helps my pool game, too. I decided to stay. Improve my game. Gather writing material, though, honestly, at that moment I was so tired, I just wanted to work on my cuts and banks and avoid more writing material. I have enough…
Long story, very short, at the end, C. and 8-Ball said, “There’ll be blood on the 6th.”
They never stop. These men. They’re sure of their victimhood.
They’re sure they’re good guys. They love their guns, say “We have a right to protect ourselves” and truly feel afraid. They are kind to me, and I know a number of my worst so-called friends from the left progressive side of my world will say it’s because I’m like them, part of their demographic. I’m not. There’s a lot to say about that. It’ll be in the book.
I try not to be jaded or cynical, though I have moments. Governments and institutions aren’t individuals and individuals do respond and create bravery in the face of horror, all the time, every day. Despite not seeming to play the part very well, I’m an activist. Just like Cece, I’d love to fix things with my voice. Sure wish I could sing. I hope you’re all fixing things, not by spilling blood. I mean, I get blood-spilling. I just don’t want Tru*p-caused neofascist-inspired suffering on a massive scale. Seems like a thing to want as a progressive lefty thinker, as a truth-writer.
I haven’t gone down all the rabbit holes with Cece, Morgan, or the history of pool so I’m not endorsing anything…gosh, it’s exhausting to be a person right now.
Sometimes, I’m just out here trying not to drink, making friends, and doing questionable things because who really cares, keeping secrets sometimes and sometimes, not.
i love your heart. black and white binary thinking is not your way (or mine.) and the way you write about the tr*mp fellas, if they saw your life was endangered on that personal connection level, they would put themselves out there for you…at least that’s my sense. life is odd like that, isn’t it?