Twenty Years Ago Part 3: Because all tales are told as a trilogy

Hello.

In part ONE, I made a choice based on fear. In part TWO, I made one based on sadness. The third choice was chosen because of my genitals.

I was adjusting to my new living arrangements. The full effect of what was going on had not set into me yet. For now it was like how we used to do things: be living at my mother’s during the summer months. There were some differences, though. The biggest one was me trying to find a real job- not one for just summer months. And find it I did, at the United Artists cinema in downtown Seattle.

It was admittedly a dump, its décor still mired in its glory days of 70’s Formica goodness. It was the last of a dying breed: A movie theater owning only two screens in the dawn of the multiplexes. But it was what I have been looking for. As a kid, I had seen several movies on its large screen (it had the largest one in Seattle), including Return of the Jedi. I had thought how glorious it would be to work there, and now I had accomplished it.

Cleaning human feces from the rear exits cured me of THAT illusion…

I liked the crew I worked with, and enjoyed my time there. Almost all of them were older than me, with the only exception being a young woman about my age. She was nice, but not someone who stuck in my mind. I can’t even remember her name. But one day she brought her friend in with her, and I was swept away…

Her name was Brooke. She was a gorgeous (in my view) young woman who had a quick wit that she would use with great skill. In the course of her appearances at my job, I got to know her and found out she lived near where I did, so I started visiting her on my days off. We would shoot the breeze, spending hours talking and goofing off. There was an underlying tension, which I eventually figured was sexual, but neither of us broached the subject. In our conversations, I found out she was attending Cleveland high school. I had yet to register. And so my summer passed, with me in the eye of an emotional tornado… a leaf in the wind, you could say.

Soon enough it came time to register for my senior year. I had decided to not go to a private school like my brother was, so we went to where you had to choose which public school you would go to. Based on what my record was, I was given two choices: Garfield… and Cleveland. Logically, Garfield was a better choice. It was closer to where I lived, and I was told it had some excellent programs that I was looking for. It was more practical. It was all in all a better choice for me.

Then I thought of Brooke…

My first day at Cleveland was spent putting together a schedule. I had already earned almost enough credits to graduate, and for a moment seriously considered graduating early. I quickly kyboshed that idea, and started planning. I started with two foreign language classes: 2nd year Chinese and 1st year Japanese. (A quick aside: my taking of these classes was my first introduction to Hong Kong action cinema and Chow Yun Fat. I have a DVD copy of the first film I saw him in: God of Gamblers.)On a lark, I picked two classes that sounded interesting: Broadcasting and Graphic arts, which were both taught by the same man, Mr. Wang, who I had heard about from Brooke.

I started attending classes, mainly keeping to myself since I knew almost no one there, but soon a couple guys stood out and started chatting with me. One was in my radio class, the other in my graphics class. We all had similar tastes in movies and TV. At first I thought they were brothers, but it turned out they were each other’s friend and neighbor. Their names were Jason and Tony. We got along well, and eventually decided to hang out outside of school. I still remember that day. We all went to go see the movie Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. (Not at the UA; I had quit there by then to work at Toys R Us… another dream job that turned out not to be so dreamy…)

Through them, I started meeting other people: Sam- the youngest of the Brothers Harper; Aaron- the Dry Shave Bastard; Rob- the first guy I knew who could buy alcohol while underage; Tessa and Tami- so like sisters yet obviously not; and Andy- A/K/A Surfin’ Bastard. We would hang out during assemblies or lunch, either in the little courtyard in the arts wing or at the Paris Bakery down the street. Sometimes we would go for road trips in the car I drove: a ’76 Chrysler New Yorker dubbed ‘Das Boot’ that could seat 6 people comfortably and had the luxury of a pull-out deck, which was basically a cassette to 8 track tape adapter. And through them I met others, outside of school. AZ, Tina, Anthony, Tiz… the list goes on. It was great times.

Through the years after Cleveland, I have lost contact with some of them (including, ironically, Brooke) but most of them I still keep in contact with and consider my closest friends. I even consider a few of them like they are part of my family. I once wrote as a comment to a photo that from great evil real goodness can emerge. An over exaggeration, but I had a point I was trying to make, and it was this:

None of these friendships and bonds I have now would ever have happened if during these series of events I had made different, and possibly better in the short term, choices.

Do I still bear mental scars over what transpired back then? Yes. I know I have to bite the bullet and see a professional to help me sort out the tangled web of neurosis that is my psyche. But would I change any of it given a chance? Never. I may not always show it, but I care deeply for my friends, and any personal misery I had (and have) to endure is a small price to pay for them… particularly Jay and Tony, who I consider brothers.

So in the end, despite it all, I am thankful for what happened, 20 years ago…

Excessive Dumping

Hello.

A bit of a delay in my plans for posting happened, but at least time I have a good excuse for it. Three weeks ago I got on a major cleaning kick. Three weeks, 800 pounds of crap, and 100 dollars later, and I have now a decent sense of accomplishment. Now I am playing catch up on other projects, all the while putting off phase 2 of the cleaning: the sorting of what is left from the purge...