Saturday, December 24, 2005
Thalidomide On The Inside
Ok, whining's over for this year. I've buried and honored my Dead. Another I was afraid I would lose is rallying, against all odds. The living, the loving that have been part of my life have stepped up, and refuse to let me crawl back down into my little cave where my main companion is me.
PLUS. Oh, BAYBEE. What a plus. As my last marriage was collapsing in front of my unseeing eyes, I allowed a couple I knew only online to come stay at my house. It wasn't a bad experience, other than having the ex rip my heart to bite-size pieces and feed them to the local wildlife. The people were good people, and I'm still in touch with them.
That was my first experience with previously un-met internetters. Later, I met Miz Julie, Nurse, Confidante and ImpQueen. Again, the bond was there before, and if anything, grew with a physical meeting. We can picture now the nuances of expression, know when there's a smile behind the words. Her entire nuclear family treats me as a distant relative. Her son knows I'm very impressed with his study of martial arts, her daughter and I maintain a wordless friendship connected through her mother, and the ImpConsort...he and I have found we're drastically different men, but many of our values and perceptions are identical. I think her father even reads this blog sometimes.
Yet another step forward in blending my worlds has been accomplished. If you don't know who BigHominid is, you're missing out on an important life experience. I have a link to his blog, which predates mine and is far more intense and interesting. He wrote a book, which he advertises on his site, titled "Scary Spasms In Hairy Chasms". I keep my copy of this book in my bathroom, on a shelf within easy reach of anyone seated. I never get tired of that book.
Well...I met him. Not only did I meet him, on his first trip home from Korea in two years, he took the time out to fly down to Florida and hang out with me for a while! It's hard to describe the impact that had on me. Online, I've known him for years. We had legendary exchanges on a message board, pushing so far beyond "good taste" and proper decorum that they were merely distant and insignificant words. Our vocabularies were advanced enough to engage in the very filthiest and most twisted dialogue without using words that would get us "TOSsed", the AOL term for censored by self-aggrandizing, pathetic losers with bad-cop mentalities. Our mothers would have been horrified at us. Intelligent but abnormal readers thought we were the best thing since shredded blended cheese in a bag.
The thing is, even though he's younger than me and I occasionally advise him on a few subjects, to me he's someone extraordinary; it's like having a rock star or famous person for a friend. That he would take the time out of a vacation schedule, where family presses for his attention, to fly here, hang with me and fly home the same day, was an unbelievable act of friendship. I didn't hug him, coming or going, but I wanted to. Since he's so much taller than me, I'd be right next to his manly teats, and that would feel too...something.
He is not the same young man I met a few years back online. He has grown emotionally and in confidence. He's in better shape, too. He moves with the shambling grace of a big man who is finding his center. His smiles are small, quick flashes. We didn't haul out the big vocabularies, we spoke simply, whether the topic was simple things or complex. Lastly, a briefly-mentioned awareness came to both of us. There was no moment of discomfort between us. I had a brief moment of sadness that he couldn't meet Basher the Wonder Dog, but I had a grand awareness that he is, indeed, my brother, my close friend, and will ever be so.
Right on the tail of that grand experience, I had an early Christmas with members of my extended family. We're not related by blood, but by many years of interaction. John, my former boss and Patriarch of the tribe, died a few years back, leaving Fran, his widow, as the center of the family. We all met at her exquisite but tiny house, feasted on deceased beast and other fine things, and had a grand time with Fran's idea of Christmas. She had purchased huge bags for everyone there, and stocked them with such things as Pez containers, Hot Wheels cars, notepads, pens (including light-up pens which had adults reverting to joyous childhood), inspirational books, lovely calendars. Her three daughters and both granddaughters were there. One daughter has a husband, the other two have long-term boyfriends, and one of those brought HIS mother, who laughs at my attempts at humor. I adore her. I only purchased for the granddaughters, as they are two of my Angels. It was a warm, wonderful evening and, like Kevin's visit, an event to treasure.
Back to my hardass self for a moment here. After a year of worry, pain and loss, this has been a truly magical Christmas for me. If wishing anyone a Merry Christmas offends your in some PC manner...nah. Forget it. I feel REALLY good for once, and you're not gonna screw it up. Not now. Not this year. Bug me next year, ok?
Oh, mine still is. So is yours. Heh.
Merry Christmas, Buttmunch. May next year hold better things, happier things. I think it will.
<< Home
