I told myself I wouldn’t become one of those whiny, mopey old white guys who spend their days feeling sorry for themselves
And look at me now haha
It’s fine, though, it’s fine
A day like today, I can look out the window and appreciate the sunshine, and if the jitters aren’t too bad, I can take a walk
Put on a big heavy sweater, one of those chunky jobs, and maybe some sturdy shoes, and just walk in the forest preserve for a couple hours
Walk along, think the thoughts
What would those thoughts be? Impossible to tell haha but nothing heavy, nothing profound
Probably would wonder bout some exes
Wonder what they’re up to now, if they’re happy, if they ever think about me, haha, that kinda stuff
Ask myself if things might have turned out differently, and if so, different how exactly?
Different better? Different worse? Just different?
Wonder why I was so goddamn stupid with a few of them
Wonder what exactly my problem was, haha, why my head was so far up my ass haha
Or think about some of the good customers, some of the good regulars
And how I just lost touch with them
How on closing night, in the middle of all the speeches, Jimmy and I promised, we swore on our mothers’ lives, a stack of bibles this high, that we would keep in touch, we would still see everyone in the room, cos we weren’t going anywhere
And that was six or seven years ago, and he’s gone somewhere, and so have I, and so sometimes I wonder where they all went, what became of them
I know a couple of ‘em died, I know a couple of ‘em moved, I know one even moved to the same damn town I moved to (just outside Chicago, like three miles out)
But the rest have scattered, and I would wonder about them, possibly think about contacting them, and then my mind would further meander before I did anything about contacting them (thank God)
I do some teaching now and it’s fun, it’s less fraught than having a place of my own, but there’s a lot more rules and you can’t just say whatever the hell crosses your mind
I would meander to all the times I stood in front of kids and said whatever the hell crossed my mind, and then occasionally got in a wee bit of trouble because of it
(Mainly it’s to do with swearing, which is a no-no, but also occasionally politics and once I fucked up a pronoun and you better believe I got a stern talking-to bout that, yes I did)
The shame I would feel, standing in front of them, hung the fuck over
Hungover like you wouldn’t believe because maybe I was up drinking til three that morning and the class is at eight fifteen and it’s a class of thirty kids and that’s a lotta kids!
Once, I couldn’t even stand. I had to lean against the dry erase board, holding on for dear life
That bell couldn’t ring fast enough
And the few times, early on, when I didn’t know such things were a terrible idea, just the worst idea I could have possibly had under the circumstances, that I had a few right before class, just a few little whiskeys, a few never hurt anyone, just a few to take the edge off, cos nerves are a thing, and thought I could just chew a buncha gum and no one would suspect a thing
(They suspected a thing, they sure did)
I would revisit the pain and shame, and the sadness would feel like the floor dropping
Or one of those amusement park rides where you get whipped around and nauseous
The sadness would feel just like that
I would bemoan certain facts and regrets - I should have quit the booze sooner would be the main fact/regret, and I missed out on a few opportunities because I did not - but I would cheer myself up by telling myself “Better late than never” and try to believe it
And I would console myself with thoughts of the good students, the actual really talented ones, the writers who are so smart and so sharp, and have so much of their lives ahead of them, that it makes a lot of the pain go away
Not all, but a lot, because sometimes the pain just turns to envy, specifically envy of their bright futures, haha, the ingrates, haha, the little shits, haha
I would remind myself of the good reviews I get after every school year, and after every summer program
I would recite a few of the testimonials that I just happen to have memorized haha
“Mr (Squirrel) is hands down the best part of the program; he makes me want to continue down this path”
Like that, that kinda thing
A few other testimonials I just happen to have memorized, not like I read ‘em over and over and over or anything like that …
I would continue walking along the forest preserve path and the sun would be nice
It would shine through the trees and look like a movie or commercial for … I dunno, a medicine of some sort, perhaps an antidepressant or even just something for incontinence haha
And as my thoughts continued their wandering, I would get lost and go dreamy
To that faraway place within where I forget that I’m out in the actual world, so lost am I in my own reverie
I would talk to myself, silently at first, only lips moving, but then soon after, muttering, and the muttering would soon lead to full-on conversational voice
Just a full-on casual conversational voice in the forest preserve on a weekday afternoon in a Chicago suburb (only three miles out, but still a suburb)
Me, in my chunky sweater, and my sturdy shoes, with my mind a-wanderin’, talking to someone from years ago
Eventually, someone would see me, of course
And knowing me and knowing my luck, that someone would recognize me
And then walk up to me at a neighborhood party sometime later and say “Hey, I saw you talking to yourself in the forest preserve the other day”
I would say something like “I don’t think so, pal” and he would point out that I was even wearing that exact sweater, the one I was wearing now
And I would stammer a denial or two but my blush would give me away, and it wouldn’t be until later that I realized there’s nothing wrong with talking to yourself in public, lotta people do it, I’ve seen them, and besides, he’s the jerk for bringing it up, for pointing it out real loud like he did, in front of everybody, making everybody stop and look
Mr Squirrel is hands down the best part of Substack; he makes me want to continue down this path. Keep on going down the path Mr. Squirrel.
I talk to myself all the time. Good thing I don't know your nosy, noisy *pal* cos I'd have told him a thing or two.
The testimonials are pure gold.