I was a happy kid. The misfit business would come later, but
during grade school I was sociable and bright. I practically bobbed to school
each day, excited for another story, recess, game of tetherball , or even spelling
bee (I was competitive like that); another lunch time, where my friends and I
would gross each other out by putting Cheetos in our milk, or potato chips in
our PB&J. I couldn't think of a place I liked being at more, and felt
safer.
The news of what happened Friday in Connecticut leaves me
with a huge, empty feeling of what the
fuck? WTF would compel a suburbanite
brat to rain a hail of bullets down on a bunch of five-year-olds? There is
no level of trauma that could occur in a normal, middle class life to
inspire this behavior. What, did his mommy tell him he had to find a job? Pull
up his pants? Boo-motherfucking-hoo. And yet, whatever the motives were, this
one person, one failed life, was able to rob an entire country of their sense
of sanctuary.
I remember the way my mom and my grade school teachers
seemed like angels to me. I damn well was a teacher's pet, doing anything to receive
a smile and exclamation of encouragement from them. Someone in an interview
last night described Sandy Hook's principal as just such an angel; She went
above and beyond for the kids, even on one school spirit day renting a full
princess costume to welcome the kids to school. It's hard to conceive that the
life of someone who gave a shit could
be so easily taken by someone who clearly did not.
In the midst of Friday night dinner service, the news of the
tragedy was at the margins of my mind. My main recurring thought was "Ack! Another complicated coffee/tea order! Grr..." Then I caught sight of my boss leading a little
girl, no more than five, around the restaurant. Boss man, a Sylvester Stallone
look-alike, was bent over, holding her hand, telling the people standing around, Make way for Kylie! as she carefully picked
her way down a couple steps. I couldn't help but think that there was an extra
tenderness in his voice, a heightened awareness of his role as protector. I
felt myself blinking, fighting back tears, before I went back to preparing my
tenth hot tea for the evening.
I feel ya.....and mine was putting Fritos on Bologna sandwiches.
ReplyDeleteErf, did we used to sit together at lunch? That sounds familiar
DeleteDoubt it, I normally sat alone....awww! Might have been my aversion to showers that caused that but I prefer to act put upon and wounded. I did eventually rid myself of the Bologna (and yes, I do sing the song when typing that, still) finding it too perfumy and texturally....questionable, and began just making Fritos sandwiches. On white bread. With lots of Best Foods Mayo. Hmmm, maybe that sandwich is why no one wanted to sit with me and it wasn't because I smelled faintly of four day old hair oil and doggie biscuits.
DeleteAnyway, dig the bit of reading I've done here so if you don't mind, I think I might just be back! Thanks for also posting about the heartbreak in Connecticut, nice to not be alone on that one.
My own affection for all things with Best Foods mayo is... unseemly.
DeleteSo happy you could stop by. Love your blog- the recent post "Improvements" was full of win. I checked out that incendiary Heimoff post as well, and had quite a bit of fun perusing the comment war.
I'm an old-world style enthusiast myself, which makes buying wine for a public who thinks Rombauer and Ferrari Carano are the pinnacle of the wine world a frustrating task indeed
Thanks so much for posting this. It helps to know others are grieving. The whole thing is so deeply incomprehensible - beyond tragic. I'm going to have to change into somebody else to get past it. Somebody who takes more time to smell the top of my grandson's head, when he's tranced out watching cartoons.
ReplyDeleteMy all-time lunch room fave is mounds of potato chips mashed between two pieces of white bread slathered with mayo. The food of royal consolation.
I didn't want to post about this at first, but it was hard not to, something like this pervades your feelings about everything
Delete