Radio Show Topic Discussion: Lost Motorcycle?
Apr 10, 2018 15:00:40 GMT -5
dazeytweeter, barbarossa, and 20 more like this
Post by senorbambos on Apr 10, 2018 15:00:40 GMT -5
So I've been in two rooms in the house so far, and there is this one: where we are still in here with an array of CRT monitors and VHS tapes and access to Google's new video service, BUT there is no motorcycle here? The man who rides it is sleeping on the sofa. Everyday - you should see it, so ridiculous - he pulls out his phone and checks for texts. He will do this on and off for hours. The glow of a smaller screen always seems so much brighter than a larger one. Or does the hardware itself just generate more light? Thoughts?
Anyway, in the other room, there are lots of small screens. The clicking is quieter and can be silenced, and when I was in there last, it seemed far more habitable. Good place to sleep off destiny. Ha ha ha! I was lying in my bed. It is a very comfortable bed with a good wooden frame. One of a kind, really. Literally. My father made that bed for me to sleep in. But it is not a crib or a child's bed. He was thinking long term. Do you know how many adults living in America don't sleep in a fine, handmade, wooden bed? Parents will, if possible, help out with college, your car, your house... but let's be honest: How many of them care where, within that house, we do our sleeping? My dad's brother had a boy who went through depression, and he let him sleep on a couch for over a year! It makes me spit to even think of it.
I got sidetracked. Train jumped a couple of rails. And it will again (6-12-18). Ha ha ha!
So I was laying in this very fine bed, having not decided if I wanted to wake up or not yet. But I heard either the biker or trucker or maybe (probably) Dad calling for me from the 2nd room. And I realize it's late in the day. Embarrassingly late. And my dad can't make breakfast anymore. I do that now. When he tries to flip a pancake, holy cow, it is a sad sight to see. You ever had a diagonal pancake? It's almost tiered. The syrup collects unevenly, and that is no fucking way to eat a pancake. The syrup should start at the center and spread out in almost a starburst pattern. You can easily fill in the dry gaps manually.
So I try and ignore him/them calling for me, but I feel guilty because here I am in this fine, wooden, handmade bed my Father found for me, and I won't even make him or his associates pancakes. What an ingrate! I settle for the middle ground and decide to go back to sleep and dream about making Da breakfast. But the eggs are runny and the syrup is too tart and there is a green film on the sausages.
And Dad awakens me, and for the first time in over a decade, he's standing in the 1st room. And he puts his frail and dying arms out and asks me how he's expected to flip pancakes with his wrists all swollen and brittle. He was terminal. You all know. Like his other brother. The young one that used to go walking.
So I hold on to dad and listen to him curse and mutter and chide me, and together we go into the 2nd room.
But as we do, I realize the motorcycle is in the hallway. Right before the door. And I think about what a sorry state of affairs that is. Not just having a motorcycle in the house, which can result in messes and damage to both the bike and domicile, but also that my dad's biker friend doesn't get to ride it again. It's back there now. They're on opposite ends of an either/or situation.
What do you think of this, in terms of a general topic?
Anyway, in the other room, there are lots of small screens. The clicking is quieter and can be silenced, and when I was in there last, it seemed far more habitable. Good place to sleep off destiny. Ha ha ha! I was lying in my bed. It is a very comfortable bed with a good wooden frame. One of a kind, really. Literally. My father made that bed for me to sleep in. But it is not a crib or a child's bed. He was thinking long term. Do you know how many adults living in America don't sleep in a fine, handmade, wooden bed? Parents will, if possible, help out with college, your car, your house... but let's be honest: How many of them care where, within that house, we do our sleeping? My dad's brother had a boy who went through depression, and he let him sleep on a couch for over a year! It makes me spit to even think of it.
I got sidetracked. Train jumped a couple of rails. And it will again (6-12-18). Ha ha ha!
So I was laying in this very fine bed, having not decided if I wanted to wake up or not yet. But I heard either the biker or trucker or maybe (probably) Dad calling for me from the 2nd room. And I realize it's late in the day. Embarrassingly late. And my dad can't make breakfast anymore. I do that now. When he tries to flip a pancake, holy cow, it is a sad sight to see. You ever had a diagonal pancake? It's almost tiered. The syrup collects unevenly, and that is no fucking way to eat a pancake. The syrup should start at the center and spread out in almost a starburst pattern. You can easily fill in the dry gaps manually.
So I try and ignore him/them calling for me, but I feel guilty because here I am in this fine, wooden, handmade bed my Father found for me, and I won't even make him or his associates pancakes. What an ingrate! I settle for the middle ground and decide to go back to sleep and dream about making Da breakfast. But the eggs are runny and the syrup is too tart and there is a green film on the sausages.
And Dad awakens me, and for the first time in over a decade, he's standing in the 1st room. And he puts his frail and dying arms out and asks me how he's expected to flip pancakes with his wrists all swollen and brittle. He was terminal. You all know. Like his other brother. The young one that used to go walking.
So I hold on to dad and listen to him curse and mutter and chide me, and together we go into the 2nd room.
But as we do, I realize the motorcycle is in the hallway. Right before the door. And I think about what a sorry state of affairs that is. Not just having a motorcycle in the house, which can result in messes and damage to both the bike and domicile, but also that my dad's biker friend doesn't get to ride it again. It's back there now. They're on opposite ends of an either/or situation.
What do you think of this, in terms of a general topic?
