We sat on a circle of rocks covered with moss a vivid green. The embers of our fire glowed red hot. High powered medicinal sour diesel OG kush lifted our spirits. A near nirvana moment. We celebrated the new season. Grateful for what we have. Strengthening our souls and minds for whatever comes next.
In my high school we rural kids would go out to a dark country road and get wasted. There was plenty of beer, usually I would have at least a twelve pack. We had weed, we had cocaine. When you couldn’t stand you could go sit in your car. Often a cheerleader, a quarterback or a big defensive tackle was right next to you. We were all bonding. There was a lot of love of living on that road. Soon we would graduate, go our separate ways, not realizing those were our glory days.
To stop time I get on a treadmill at Planet Fitness. What seems like an hour passes just to find out that only five minutes have gone by. At ten minutes I tried to smile at the women next to me. I must have looked like a crazed, heavy-breathing, sweating maniac. She smiled back.
Once a promising young athlete, now I just want to do thirty minutes without rolling back, falling off and laying on the floor. Not in front of this nice lady, not today.
When a mans an empty kettle
He should be on his mettle
and yet I’m torn apart.
Just because I’m presumin
That I could be human
If I only had a kidney.
I’d be tender I’d be gentle
and awful sentimental
regarding love and art.
I’d be friends with the sparrows
and the boy who shoots the arrows,
If I only had a kidney.
Just to register emotion, jealousy, devotion
and really feel the part
I could stay young and chipper
and I’d lock it with a zipper
If I only had a kidney
I follow a very restrictive kidney diet–for about two days. That’s about how long I have ever lasted on a diet. When I get really hungry you might find me in line at Subway ordering double meat, double cheese on a foot long roll. All the vegetables, mayo and red pepper relish.
I eat this heavy meal very quickly. I enjoy this short time period. Call me a pig–I don’t care. Do not take the joy out of my life. I will fight back.
Tales from Dialysis, part 3
I noticed his color was bad. White as a ghost. They lifted him out of his wheelchair. They placed him in the chair next to me. I stopped looking. I could hear him talking. They had trouble getting his needles in. Ten minutes later his machine alarmed. The technician yelled for the nurse. Looking at him, then looking at his machine numbers, she yelled for the head nurse. That’s when I looked again. He looked dead. They tried to revive him for fifteen minutes. Then the rescue crew tried for another fifteen minutes. You can die that fast. Enjoy life.
The boat smelled like dead fish. I had never been deep sea fishing before. On our vacation in Ocean City, my father, a Navy man, decided we were going deep sea fishing. He even took us to breakfast.
It’s 1965. I’m seven, and Dad says get whatever you want. I am Dad’s fat son and he knows this will please me. Three pancakes, three strips of bacon, three eggs and four pieces of toast. I eat my brother’s toast too.
When I step on the Captain Bunting I have an overfull feeling. The boat smells and so does its crew. My brother’s eyes meet mine when a crewman passes by us: we know he is not a regular bather. He’s missing his front teeth and two fingers. He smiles at me as if he could eat me for breakfast. I smile back but not my heartwarming smile–it’s a fake smile. My brother motions to follow him and we walk to the front of the boat. There are benches with seat belts so we sit down. As the boat heads out to sea it goes way up through a wave, then way down. My brother looks at me and says I looked pale. That’s when I throw up all over my blue bathing trunks. I usually cry in these situations, but I can feel more coming so I run for the closest bathroom. My brother and I occupy both bathrooms for the entire voyage. My Dad never takes us fishing again.