Thomas Wictor

Archive for the ‘Dad’ Category

Hell is other people. In cars.

I used to dread vacations when Dad was in charge. His idea of taking time off as a family was to pile into the car at the crack of dawn, drive until lunch, eat, and then drive until sunset. And we couldn’t talk. As a teenager I discovored Jean-Paul Sartre’s famous quote “Hell is other…

 

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Spelunking

I love the word “spelunking.” It’s far more imaginative than the prosaic “caving.” I was a spelunker until 2012. Instead of crawling around in caves, I did it under my house. Never once was it my idea to go under my house, except for today. There were photos that had to be taken. The reason…

 

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Down the Orinoco with my father

My father Edward Wictor was a complete stranger. Since his death on February 23, 2013, he’s become even more of a mystery. Dad wrote three unpublished memoirs that are nearly impossible to read. Like the film Pulp Fiction, they don’t follow a chronological narrative. Instead, they jump around in time and place, they contain almost…

 

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The son of a certified eccentric

My mother CeeCee was brilliant. As I discovered today, she was also a certified eccentric. Sometime in the late nineties, I got a traffic ticket from a sheriff’s deputy working for the second-most corrupt city in the United States. It was ticket for a “rolling stop,” meaning I didn’t come to a complete stop at…

 

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Your fate is to have free will

Today I found an artifact that had gone missing. I’d heard about it for years, but I’d never laid eyes on it. Now I’ve examined and touched it. Part of me had wondered if it really existed. Does it prove anything? Yes. It proves that our fate is to have free will. I broach the…

 

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Count me out of your brave new world

A happy British oncologist says that expensive cancer drugs should be withheld from the elderly and given to the young. Dr. Karol Sikora (pronounced “sick aura”) is worried about the costs. Well, count me out of the you-live, you-die lottery. If it comes down to “justifying expenses,” as the doctor says, then I’ll cheerfully give…

 

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Dad’s deathmobile

When my nephew Hunter James Gonzales turned three, my father gave him the most dangerous birthday present I’ve ever seen. Dad’s deathmobile was used only once, almost twenty years ago, but I remember it as though it were yesterday. A hot needle would would burn out the memory. Free e-books to anyone who does the…

 

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I’ve been granted permission

Don’t ask me how I know this, but I know it exactly the way I recognized and remembered the Cardinal Ghost when I met her on November 6, 1987. I’ve been granted permission to write my next novel. This is good news, because the subject matter is going to rattle a lot of cages. But…

 

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Sometimes we’re not owed compensation

My father Edward Wictor was such a mystery that yesterday I hired a researcher to find his military records. In my parents’ house and garage, there is not a single document related to Dad’s service. He wrote a history of his time in the United States Coast Guard, but it raises more questions than it…

 

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Things I never considered, part 80 trillion

I just got an e-mail that prompts me to post about something I never considered. It was a long message full of instructions on how I should change the way I write and live. I’ll address just one point because in our current culture, the classes are pitted against each other, and I don’t want…

 

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