“It looks Brobdingnagian,” I complained, eyeing the monstrosity which would have been at home in giant-land.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” my husband replied. “It looks perfect. If it were made for giants we’d never be able to see more than a corner of it.”
“Fine, it looks like something out of a Bradbury novel.” I countered, since that was the other reference I could think of to large television screens mounted on a wall.
“Now you are being really crazy. High gloss furniture are not going to usher in the fall of the house of books.”
When he put his mind to it, my husband could be more of a bookworm than I was. I sighed and stared at the 52 inch screen hanging in what had been a bare stretch of wall.
“That’s what you think.”
“Nonsense,” he said. “It’s proof we live in the future.”
My wife and I got divorced when my son was just 3 years old. She was granted custody, and I was able to have him on weekends due to our agreement. While my son and I still had a good relationship, he was definitely more attached to his mother. When Timmy was 10 he attended a birthday party for a friend that had a clown for entertainment. He really got a kick out of the clown. So much so that he told me he wanted to learn how to juggle.
Together, we went to a couple of circus workshops that were offered locally. He was a real natural, and he had a ton of fun while we were together. We attended classes every Sunday, and he looked forward to each week. We continued to go together for a few months, and by the time we were done Timmy was juggling like a pro. Not only could he juggle by himself, but we could juggle as a team like you see at the circus. We continue to seek out fun workshops and programs that we can do together to build our relationship. I can honestly say that because of our first circus themed workshops our relationship has never been stronger.
The Midwest carries some pretty strange individuals. Sometimes they are so “carefree” and jaunty that you can almost taste the sarcasm behind their gritty and insensitive smile. One day, you feel completely attached and uninhibited to a friend that you feel you know so well and the next day they are gone from your life. The mental bags are packed and the room in their quaint loft that once had steady, warm, decorative aggregates of voluminous color is forever just a memory in which I will probably never return. I had always wanted to know what a person goes through to allow such behavior. As I travel through my memory of that week, I wonder what they would have done if the same had been done to them. I don’t feel there is any room for individuals like that and I do hope to hear a grieving tale in which they had been shunned just the same.