Charles, as I recall him, was a nice kid. I didn't know him that well or for very long; we worked together for a little over a year almost a decade ago. But he used to tap on my truck's window to wake me up before our shifts started at 05:30 even though I drove a Ford and he drove a Chevy.
We'd walk toward the large building in the pre-dawn dim, not saying much, probably thinking about how tired we were, and about how that particular tired never compared to the tired we would feel once our jobs were finished. Our asses were kicked on a daily basis; but we also ate breakfast burritos in the cafeteria on our lunch breaks.
Charles was soft spoken and laughed genuinely. For a short time, he was my best friend. He knew someone who was important to me at the time (I want to say it was an ex-girlfriend), but I can't remember who that person was. I can barely remember Charles now, too; his name came back to me only two days ago. He was blonde, grew decent facial hair, and shaved when he wanted to be less unruly. He had a good smile.
I remember being affected by his presence. But I was selfish. Did I even say a proper goodbye after I quit? The word bastard should be reserved for the young and arrogant and neglectful and unseeing. I hope Charles is happy if he's still around. Sometimes I just miss people. If only I could hate myself more effectively for forgetting the people who proceed through my life.
22 August 2012
13 August 2012
"From the southland and the droughtland"
I have been wanting to produce a new blog - one that resists discussing the death of yet another famous writer - for some time now; however, with my lifestyle being what it is these days (one that involves -- most importantly -- Netflix, a little reading, a little tennis, sporadic aerobic binges, drinking, and countless social functions) I just haven’t found the time or the desire. Lucky I am then that my good, albeit elusive, friend Roman Conrad recently returned from a short, on-assignment job in Damascus (Syria, not Virginia). Roman is a truly remarkable writer/observer/poet/widower, and I begged him to come up with anything for General Narrator, anything topical that would ultimately shed his brilliant light on American life. After several days of lengthy phone conversations laced with promises of alcohol and poorly-manufactured Mexican cuisine, he finally agreed, and rode his motorcycle down from Carpinteria, California, where he lives when he’s not traveling. I gave him time to roam the streets of Long Beach; he was in search not only of a topic, but of the right kind of people whose conversations and musings would help him broach whatever subject he decided to explore. After a week or so, Roman came back to my apartment -- I was out stalking the filming locales of the upcoming season of Dexter, but preemptively had an extra key made for him so he could come and go as he pleased -- and produced the following essay while holed up in the shower of my small bathroom. I have yet to read the piece due to quite a few late nights and later mornings, but knowing Roman, I’m sure it’s a great, insightful read, and I pray you enjoy his mind in the same envious way that I do.
“Americans Remain Resilient Amid Mid-Summer Swelter”
By: Roman Conrad
Special to General Narrator
Just as the Free Syrian Army -- despite problems among divided sects being opposed to one another in purpose and tactics -- continues to wage war for freedom against the Bashar al-Assad led regime hellbent on oppressing and/or murdering its impoverished citizens, so do farmers across the expanse of this great nation prepare themselves for a similar battle against an arguably less-vanquishable foe: inclement weather.
Reports from many credible sources are calling this the hottest and droughtiest dry season this side of the Dust Bowl of the 1930s. Enormous tractors with balers, binders, and planters in tow leave a wake of rising dust rather than fertile ground for future sowing. Crops of differing produce sit crumbly and lifeless, decimated by scorching heat. Cattle farmers are forced to send animals to an early slaughter and are left pondering the metaphorical parallels as they do so. In the vein of Studs Terkel -- the great American voice who documented the effects the Great Depression had on the American public -- these indeed are Hard Times.
The extent of the heat’s unrelenting oppression, however, reaches far beyond the world of agriculture. Here in Long Beach, the city I am currently visiting, the effects are just as damaging and worrisome. Margaret B. Thompson, a stay-at-home mother of four who I came upon while she was watering a dead patch of grass in her quaint front yard, recalls when her husband gave her some sobering news:
“It was August 7th, I think. My husband called me from his office and said, ‘We just had a rolling blackout at work. All the computers are down. The lights are off. Everyone’s pretty upset. I heard on the radio this morning that state officials declared a Flex Alert. I think it’s best if we stop using the air conditioner for a while.’”
I asked Margaret how she reacted:
“I panicked a little [chuckles nervously]. You know, without air conditioning our house can get pretty stuffy, and then the kids complain a little more. But they still have the Xbox 360 and that helps them forget about the heat at least for a little while. The first thing I did, you know, after my husband told me to keep the air off, was I went to Costco and stocked up on as much Gatorade and Diet Coke as I could. So that has been an added expense. But it’s nothing compared to the money we’ll save at the end of the month when the bill comes.”
Margaret and her family aren’t the only ones making sacrifices during these trying times. I talked to Wilhelmina Brown, a tax adjuster who works in Los Angeles, at a local coffee shop about the soaring temperatures just before she started her daily 45 minute commute into downtown:
“It has definitely been an adjustment. I come here every morning to get a cup of coffee to help start my day, and recently I had to switch to iced coffee to help keep me cool.”
Has that helped, I asked:
“Yeah, it really has. It’s a pain because the iced coffee is the same price as a regular cup of the hot stuff even though you’re getting less coffee because the ice takes up more space, but it definitely keeps me cool and still keeps me awake throughout the day.”
(In related events, coffee shops with eastern facing patios have seen a severe decrease in patronship between the hours of 6am & 12pm; the same has been reported at shops with western facing patios between 3 & 8pm, thus leaving a meager three hours for a tolerable coffee buying experience -- all of which fly by, by the way, during non-peak coffee buying hours.)
Bobby Fellows, who does PC repair from home, was also at the coffee shop when I spoke with Wilhelmina.
“Right now, in the morning, is about the best time to get anything done really; it’s not as excruciating. I just dropped my kid off at school, but I’m dreading having to pick him up later this afternoon.”
Why is that?:
“Well, he gets out of school around 2, and that’s really just about the worst time to be outside. I go outside to my truck, get in -- I got [sic] leather seats so I’m just sticking to them at first -- and am sweating almost immediately. My wife calls it ‘swamp back.’ The air conditioner cools everything down pretty quick [sic], but those first three minutes are really brutal.”
Forecasters haven’t been able to adequately explain why this recent heat wave sweeping across the country -- some point to global warming while others say it’s merely the weather being its usual, unpredictable, cyclical self -- nor have they been able to give any idea as to when it will let up. In the meantime, southern Californians continue to persevere, somehow managing to bear the unbearable. When the heat will subside? Only time will tell.
“Americans Remain Resilient Amid Mid-Summer Swelter”
By: Roman Conrad
Special to General Narrator
Just as the Free Syrian Army -- despite problems among divided sects being opposed to one another in purpose and tactics -- continues to wage war for freedom against the Bashar al-Assad led regime hellbent on oppressing and/or murdering its impoverished citizens, so do farmers across the expanse of this great nation prepare themselves for a similar battle against an arguably less-vanquishable foe: inclement weather.
Reports from many credible sources are calling this the hottest and droughtiest dry season this side of the Dust Bowl of the 1930s. Enormous tractors with balers, binders, and planters in tow leave a wake of rising dust rather than fertile ground for future sowing. Crops of differing produce sit crumbly and lifeless, decimated by scorching heat. Cattle farmers are forced to send animals to an early slaughter and are left pondering the metaphorical parallels as they do so. In the vein of Studs Terkel -- the great American voice who documented the effects the Great Depression had on the American public -- these indeed are Hard Times.
The extent of the heat’s unrelenting oppression, however, reaches far beyond the world of agriculture. Here in Long Beach, the city I am currently visiting, the effects are just as damaging and worrisome. Margaret B. Thompson, a stay-at-home mother of four who I came upon while she was watering a dead patch of grass in her quaint front yard, recalls when her husband gave her some sobering news:
“It was August 7th, I think. My husband called me from his office and said, ‘We just had a rolling blackout at work. All the computers are down. The lights are off. Everyone’s pretty upset. I heard on the radio this morning that state officials declared a Flex Alert. I think it’s best if we stop using the air conditioner for a while.’”
I asked Margaret how she reacted:
“I panicked a little [chuckles nervously]. You know, without air conditioning our house can get pretty stuffy, and then the kids complain a little more. But they still have the Xbox 360 and that helps them forget about the heat at least for a little while. The first thing I did, you know, after my husband told me to keep the air off, was I went to Costco and stocked up on as much Gatorade and Diet Coke as I could. So that has been an added expense. But it’s nothing compared to the money we’ll save at the end of the month when the bill comes.”
Margaret and her family aren’t the only ones making sacrifices during these trying times. I talked to Wilhelmina Brown, a tax adjuster who works in Los Angeles, at a local coffee shop about the soaring temperatures just before she started her daily 45 minute commute into downtown:
“It has definitely been an adjustment. I come here every morning to get a cup of coffee to help start my day, and recently I had to switch to iced coffee to help keep me cool.”
Has that helped, I asked:
“Yeah, it really has. It’s a pain because the iced coffee is the same price as a regular cup of the hot stuff even though you’re getting less coffee because the ice takes up more space, but it definitely keeps me cool and still keeps me awake throughout the day.”
(In related events, coffee shops with eastern facing patios have seen a severe decrease in patronship between the hours of 6am & 12pm; the same has been reported at shops with western facing patios between 3 & 8pm, thus leaving a meager three hours for a tolerable coffee buying experience -- all of which fly by, by the way, during non-peak coffee buying hours.)
Bobby Fellows, who does PC repair from home, was also at the coffee shop when I spoke with Wilhelmina.
“Right now, in the morning, is about the best time to get anything done really; it’s not as excruciating. I just dropped my kid off at school, but I’m dreading having to pick him up later this afternoon.”
Why is that?:
“Well, he gets out of school around 2, and that’s really just about the worst time to be outside. I go outside to my truck, get in -- I got [sic] leather seats so I’m just sticking to them at first -- and am sweating almost immediately. My wife calls it ‘swamp back.’ The air conditioner cools everything down pretty quick [sic], but those first three minutes are really brutal.”
Forecasters haven’t been able to adequately explain why this recent heat wave sweeping across the country -- some point to global warming while others say it’s merely the weather being its usual, unpredictable, cyclical self -- nor have they been able to give any idea as to when it will let up. In the meantime, southern Californians continue to persevere, somehow managing to bear the unbearable. When the heat will subside? Only time will tell.
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