Chum

Chum: (n) a close friend.

I was twenty-three years old before I realized there were gay people. I had been told they were perverts. Matter of fact, the American Psychiatric Association confirmed this to us publicly, making us feel our squeamishness was justified by their diagnosis.

I mention this because life marches on, and if you want to lay down and object, be prepared to have boot prints on your face.

When I was ten years old I had a friend. Let’s call him Timmy. No, let’s not. That brings up the idea that he had a dog named Lassie. Let’s
call him Frankie. That’s got a nice Brooklyn feel to it.

Frankie was my chum. Frankie was my devoted companion. Frankie hung out. Frankie defended me when other people said I was a fat pig. Frankie liked me.

Now, as I look back at it, I realize Frankie loved me.

Frankie always wanted to come over, spend the night and sleep in the same bed. That wasn’t weird when you were a kid–you could punch each other and joke around, but he always, by morning, cuddled up to my back.

When I was twenty-three, along with discovering gay people, I also realized that Frankie was one of them. I was probably Frankie’s first love.  An unrequieted one.

Because when I turned twelve, my gyroscope pointed toward pretty girls. Shortly after that I never saw Frankie again. Matter of fact, I don’t even know where Frankie is.

I hope he’s happy.

I hope he found someone who was worthy of his devotion.

And I hope that person is grateful to have Frankie cuddling up to him.

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Bereave

Bereave: (v) to be deprived of a loved oneDictionary B 

I’m a silly goose (even though I’m not quite sure why that bird got crippled with such a characterization).

I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but often I will be sitting alone and suddenly be overwhelmed with the remorse that will be felt by those around me at my passing.

I don’t know why I feel the right to project on them such a breakdown–but tears come to my eyes as I imagine them weeping over my demise.

Honestly, I cannot say that I get nearly as worked up about considering the death of another.

No, it is the absence of me on the planet that bereaves me.

I can’t imagine an Earth without my charming personality.

I’m reluctant to write this article, but having a certain anonymity due to the expansiveness of the Internet and my own obscurity … I assume I am fairly safe in maintaining this secret devotion to my own mortality.

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Audience

Audience: (n) the assembled spectators or listeners at a public event, such as a play, movie, concert, or meeting.

dictionary with letter A

You may speculate that they are spectators, but the word “audience” literally means that they are there to listen.

As listeners, they are not compelled to feed your ego nor respond to your whim.

If the person sharing is not willing to communicate clearly, or provide a balance of entertainment and inspiration, then he should be prepared for the audience to take its ears elsewhere.

That’s a simple fact.

After many, many years of sharing, performing, presenting, or whatever word you prefer, in front of hundreds of thousands of human souls, I will tell you that I have never come across any gathering that did all the work for me.

Some are friendlier, and some are like a Wells Fargo safe which has to be cracked meticulously in order to find the treasures within.

With the introduction of YouTubes and Internet blogs, there are many fledgling artists who think that having ten thousand “likes” or a million hits is a passage to success.

It is not.

There are three things that tell you that you’ve reached your audience:

  1. Do they get quiet when they’re supposed to get quiet?

Noisy is easy. Getting people quiet is an art.

  1. Do they want more of what you have and are they willing to commit either their time or money to confirm that devotion?

It is a fickle day we live in. The 24-hour news cycle has turned the American attention span and the allegiance of the American audience into the actions of a housefly at a July 4th picnic.

  1. Are they leaving the performance, lecture or interaction a little different than when they came in?

America is desperately searching for answers, while simultaneously pretending that such data is unnecessary.

Solve a problem–save a soul.

It’s really that easy. 

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Apathetic

dictionary with letter A

Apathetic: (adj) showing or feeling no interest, enthusiasm or concern.

Even though the aspiration of many organizations is to gain the status of “institution,” we must realize that when this is achieved, those who participate begin to feel like inmates instead of followers.

I feel this when I go to church.

Yesterday I sat in the back of one of these “cathedral-esque” arenas and allowed myself to be the proverbial fly on the wall, watching, listening and taking in the ambience of what the American religious community calls worship.

Several things came to my mind immediately:

1. Everything was too familiar.

Once we gain familiarity, we have a certain sense of serenity–but also a deep and overwhelming realization of boredom.

2. Everyone had their own reason for being there.

In an atmosphere in which unity of spirit is meant to be the goal, there were so many ghosts haunting the room that we did not connect unless we were required to shake a hand or “pass the peace.”

3. Conversations were going on while discourse was being offered.

If the hearers were not convinced that something was important, they felt free to ignore the prattle coming from the pulpit and indulge in their own activities.

4. A certain level of misery was being passed off as devotion.

Human beings are not good at suffering and don’t become better by practicing it. The best we can do is pray that in the hour of our greatest need, courage will arise. Simulating our unworthiness through religious dependency only makes us bitter.

When I looked at these four actions, I realized I had arrived at the climate–and therefore definition–of apathetic.

For I will tell you that an apathetic lifestyle infests anyone who believes that they become better than others because of the level of their sacrifice.

 

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Altar

dictionary with letter A

 J. R. Practix

J. R. Practix

Altar: (n) the table in a Christian church at which the bread and wine are consecrated in communion services.

Sometimes I am embarrassed at my lack of interest in religion.

I am extremely intrigued with faith, personal consecration, devotion and the quest for better things.

It’s kind of the way I felt when I was a kid and my friends would become involved in new, popular activities. My only interest in the venture was whether or not it was fun. But my friends would get picky about the pieces of a puzzle or the trinkets that went inside a game board.

One of my companions became totally obsessed with marbles–to the point that he had buckskin pouches to carry them in, and they couldn’t be mingled with each other because the purees had to be separated from the bulgers, which had to be totally kept apart from the cats’ eyes. So every time I played with this kid, he was yelling at me about procedures and propriety. instead of just shooting marbles.

Yep, I guess that sums up my spirituality.

I’m just shooting marbles.

When you want me to cherish the sanctity of an altar, or discuss speculate on whether bread looks like the human body and whether wine is a symbol of blood or is actually transposed in substance…well, I’m outta here.

I’m against altars–mainly because they don’t alter anyone.

They make us feel superior because we think more than other people, rather than weighing our worth by what we feel and do.

So go ahead and worship at your altar, and know all the significance of each and every holy piece placed upon it.

But for me, I believe if you’re going to enjoy yourself, you need to learn the importance of relaxing and appreciating more than worshipping and revering.

Alma Mater

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Alma Mater: (n) the school, college or university that one once attended.

Through the years of deep devotion

We will ever loyal be

Love and cherish all our memories

Of our high school days with thee

And the portals we’ll remember

Friends who made our lives sublime

Alma Mater, Alma Mater

Praises be forever thine.

I have no idea why I remember the words to that song from my high school, but I had absolutely no problem conjuring them.

It is a testament to the power of the educational system–its ability to infuse lasting knowledge, and I suppose, insecurities, into its students and victims, respectively.

By the way, we thought it was extraordinarily hilarious to taunt our aging high school English teacher, who penned the words, by telling her that the tune for her verse was borrowed from Hitler’s Nazi Germany list of favs.

Such scamps we were.