Thomas Wictor

Posts Tagged ‘Dad’

Can humor always be found?

Yesterday Robert Schulslaper interviewed me at length for Fanfare. The question of my sense of humor came up a few times. I have a rather dark sense of humor. It’s not completely dark; for example I find this ad extremely funny. The two actresses are absolute geniuses. This Monty Python sketch can still make me…

 

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I shot a bullet into the air

Well, I didn’t shoot the bullet. But somebody did. Ever seen video of people shooting weapons in celebration? Like this? People do it all the time where I live. It’s a cultural thing. The show Mythbusters did an episode called “Bullets Fired Up.” They concluded that if a bullet is fired perfectly vertically, it’ll fall…

 

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No more kowtowing to Snake Man

Boy, was my father defensive. He was always ready to take offense, no matter how innocuous the comment. And he was the master of the bait-and-switch. His finest moment came when he decided to spend the day doing yard work to prove that he didn’t have terminal cancer. He mowed, trimmed, clipped, and raked until…

 

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The cost of the freedom to write, part one

I could never have published this while my parents were alive. In fact, it was the deaths of my parents that gave me means and freedom to write whatever I want. Would I give it up to have them alive again? In a second. As flawed as they were, I wish they both could’ve lived…

 

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The cost of the freedom to write, part two

Greg left the party every half-hour or so, saying he had to go home to check on the sprinklers, or make a phone call, or “do…uh, something.” He came back a little more friendly and a little looser each time. Greg planned on moving his family up north somewhere; he wasn’t any more specific than…

 

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Noreen in the Rat Palace

I’ve received several queries about Noreen in the Rat Palace. One came from Scott Thunes. So I’ll tell the story. First, an explanation: Ghosts and Ballyhoo is an art project. It isn’t a memoir per se. Everything in it is true, but I wrote it in order to elicit a certain reaction among readers. I…

 

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Paying the piper

Someone sent me a link to an interview with the bassist Lemmy Kilmister of the band Motörhead. He’s in terrible shape from all the drugs, drinking, and smoking. If you don’t know anything about Motörhead, they’re a metal band as famous for their excesses as their deafening music. Also, Lemmy plays his electric bass like…

 

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Tim’s alluvial shanty

I used to love Tim’s house. Now it has to be demolished because of flood damage. The flooding is the result of the climate, the neighbors, and the idiotic plumbers who didn’t notice that the blueprints were upside down. Mom grew up in this house, the front part and garage of which were built in…

 

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Ceilings want me dead

In my senior year at Lewis and Clark College, in Portland, Oregon—alma mater of Monica Lewinsky!—I moved into the second floor of an apartment complex off campus. A friendly Turk and his Iranian wife were the owners. He told us to call him Bob. Though he spoke perfectly colloquial American English, he had a thick…

 

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That which was lost has been found

In 1975, when we moved from Tyler, Texas, to Rijswijk, the Netherlands, we had to put much of our furniture and possessions in storage. Most of the rental homes in the Netherlands were furnished. We rented a storage facility, had our things packed up, and flew off to Holland. When we moved to Stavanger, Norway,…

 

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