Two Racist Events in One Day

February 26, 2016

I shouldn’t be surprise but it was pretty strange.

Last week I was with Sophia as she was waiting for the Orange line for school. She found a spot on a bench to sit, next to a couple of older white women. They seemed rather prim and proper in their demeanor and appearance; that was the first thing that struck me. I think Sophia accidentally brushed one of the ladies’ knee as she sat, because that woman had a look of horror on her face as if Sophia did something wrong. For hald a second I thought she might be a germaphobe with the way she reacted; however her reaction was so profound that it was more than that. I was going to say something to Sophia, but it really wasn’t her problem to worry about. While the two ladies whispered to each other (which seemed to me about what happened), a seat opened up next to Sophia and I sat down with my daughter. Maybe 20 seconds later, the two older women got up and walked towards the back of the station. All I could think was “Really?” I didn’t even bother to tell Sophia since she didn’t do anything to start it.

The same day, I was waiting for a bus to get to an appointment. The bus comes, a bunch of people get off, another woman and I got on. As the door was closed, I heard another woman trying to catch the bus. She sounded loud, obnoxious, and Bostonian saying “Hey, that’s my daughter in there!” which I thought was the woman next to me, but not. The woman had to put money on her T-pass to pay the fare, which kept us at the stop. I thought the driver would open the door, but he didn’t. I turns out the door would hit me if they were opened, which he did when I finally moved up to pay my fare. Of course that wasn;t enough for the obnoxious Boston lady. She lit up inot the driver as soon as she got on. The driver tried to calm things down but the lady wasn’t having any of it. She says “Well you seemed to open them for your own kind.” I was shocked she said that, mainly because the driver was white; if he only opened for his own kind, I wouldn’t be on the bus at all. I’m making my way to a seat while they’re still arguing. Driver says, “Own kind? Is that supposed to be some sort of racist comment you’re telling me?” She says “No Mr. Trump”—which doesn’t help at all—and she insists she said “other people.” The driver said he had to call it in for a report; she continues with a few more “Mr. Trumps” and the argument is over. I stay in my seat for the trip, but get up early before my stop to talk to the driver. I tell him if he needs a witness for his report, I heard her say “own kind” to back him up. He shrugged, shook his head, laughed it off, and said “What can you do?” I got off but I have no idea if reported it or not. Maybe living as that woman is punishment enough. Who knows?

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Marquee Humor

February 23, 2016

This would be the saga at the Lexington Venue theater in Lexington MA. A couple of weeks ago they were promoting the next slate of films to come… all on one line.

Big Short Room Danish

I felt they needed to switch Room and Danish, but that’s me.

When the time came, the films were in rotation.

Big Short      Carol
Danish Girl    Room

I think the first line was actually the first rough draft of “Long Tall Sally.” I’m afraid to ask what goes on in the Danish girl room.

This week they changed the order of some of the films.

Big Short   Room

Reminds me of apartment hunting in New York City.

Speaking of short, this was one I missed a few weeks ago at the Apple Cinemas in Cambridge, MA.

I know Kevin Hart is petite, but seriously?? That’s harsh…

Better Focus

February 5, 2016

Not sure how I’m doing lately, but it’s kind of a good thing. I’m not sure how to explain it except while things aren’t clearer, they are less fuzzy.

Funny thing happened. A few weeks back, I was talking about trying to get more organized this year, but specifically January would be a month to figure out where things stood and try to see what needs to be dealt with. I was thinking about it but not doing anything about it, when I remembered this happened to me awhile back. A friend of mine was able to knock some sense into me both when I was at my low point in job hunting, money problems, and Sophia’s mom—that perfect storm battering me to further ruin; and soon after Sophia’s mom died and I had to become a full-time father on a part time income overnight. One of the things she did was help me get my organizer into working shape and use it as a tool to get throught he day, the week, and once in a while minute by minute. I thought she gave me a custome organizing sheet to use. I thought I had it on my computer somewhere among various backups, so I went looking for it among the files. What I came across was everything else I’ve written and done over the years. Some of the things I hadn’t read in years, and some still held up. It was interesting to read things I didn’t so much leave behind as they got lost in the shuffle. One of these was my favorite unfinished piece of work” a web series that only had two episodes filmed, even though three scripts were writen. I forgot how well it worked, but also how well it was received by peers that I truly admired. And it is still unfinished. That might be my next project. Other things gave me hope as well. I’m not nor ever was ahead of my time in my writing, but I am a solid writer (still); it holds together well. That in itself gave me hope.

After the writings, and unable to find the sheet I was originally looking for, I found the organizer I used at the time. While it is mainly used for storage now, it was a daily reminder for everything back in the day—2011 to be exact. So much has in a short tme and I kind of forgot the chronology of it. Some people suggested I concentrate on what I was feeling during that time, but all I felt at that time was fear and anxiety. It kept coming in endless waves and a constant throbbing in my head. Looking at what happened when, helped me focus. I read these events as dates on a calendar and I can feel neural pathways open in my brain. That whole time was a jumble for survival. You forget everything you are for a way to keep going the next step. It’s frightening and the only way to deal with that fear is to become so myopic that you ignore the fear—which you can’t do, but you live in denial to take one more step forward. The time was a blur, but seeing what I did made some things a little clearer. Knowing the chronology of certain events put the jumble into order, especially at a time of chaos.

To me it’s amazing how much you have to abandon when you are in survival mode, but you don’t realize it until it’s all over. Even a sense of time, linear events and planning erode from fear of the weight of the current situation and what might lie ahead. It’s a horrible way to live and I can’t believe I was in that reptilian mindset for so long. Moreso I can’t belibe I made it out, scarred but together. Things are less out of focus than they have been lately and it’s possible to remember some of that time without panic. Knocking on wood, it will stay that way for a while.