[lit-ideas] Fleas
- From: Mike Geary <jejunejesuit.geary2@xxxxxxxxx>
- To: lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
- Date: Wed, 31 Aug 2011 21:49:19 -0500
My cats have fleas by the millions. They cry to go outside, but I won't let
them because if I do, the fleas will feast on me. I'm selfish that way. My
ex once said I was selfish. That startled me. Lazy? yes. Unambitious?
you bet. Immature? of course. A drunk Irishman? comes with the territory.
A back-slider? No way, I've never attempted reform. I've suspected at
times that there are some things in life that should be taken seriously,
like maybe if someone is in very desperate straits you should take time to
listen to their story and commiserate, but if you too are having trouble
feeding yourself, well then, shouldn't he/she listen to your story as well
instead of just walking off? And you call me selfish? The down-and-out
are the most selfish people I've ever met. All they can think about is
getting something to eat or a quart of beer. I'd go with the beer if I were
them. But, of course, my culture requires me to preach: "Now don't spend
this quarter on beer or wine. Get something to eat. Something good for
you."
I'm not selfish, I tell you. I give to street people when I can. It's true
that I've always been a very poor provider -- in the world's eyes -- but
only because I've pursued the chimeras of my imagination rather than doing
the world's bidding. "You men only exit for two purposes," my ex
would shout. "To stir the gene pool and provide for the pool you've
made." Everyone must deal with the world on its terms. And one of its
primary terms is economics. And for us economics means: Money, money,
money."
Nonsense. We create our world. I recognize the laws of physics, but that's
it. All else is our own reality, wrested from the gestalt of our
experiences. I refuse to be an apparatchik of the American version of
Western European Capitalism -- not because I put myself before all else, but
because I must wrest from my own experiences the reality of me. It's
because I am a world unto myself. I am life. I am what life is about. Is
it selfish to be yourself?
Yes, of course, all I know is the American version of Western European
Capitalism.
OK, then, yes, I am selfish. I cheated my children out of a Harvard or Yale
or Princeton or Stanford or MIT education just so I could enjoy my life.
And I apparently cheated my ex out of a happy, fulfilled life. Well, that's
the breaks.
OK, moving on.
Intimations of my mortality grow with every work day. My work is very
physical, very contortionistic, often very hot, sometimes very cold --
always very dirty. So how come I love it so much? I don't know. It's a
bare bones survival the way I work it. I have zero capital -- it's all cash
flow which means I'm racing to the bank every day to cover checks I'd
written the day before. Sometimes I don't make it. I must have spent a
thousand or more dollars this year in bounced check charges. Awful, awful.
But still I love it. It's me against the world. My son, the artist, works
with me now. We're still trying to work out the relationship : ) So yes,
I work at things I love that leave me in poverty because I'm so
business-wise stupid and that is selfish. I am selfish, goddamnit, and
proud of it.
Mike Geary
musing in Memphis
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