Thomas Wictor

Posts Tagged ‘Edward Wictor’

Monkeyshines

I’ve always loved the word “monkeyshines.” To me it brings to mind disreputable incompetence. Clowns behaving badly. I discovered today that the word first appears in 1828 in a song called “Jump Jim Crow.” The song was popularized by Thomas Dartmouth “Daddy” Rice, who performed in blackface as Jim Crow. Apparently there was a real…

 

Read More

My meandering belligerence

About fifteen years ago, I used to listen to music on the radio. Easily the most annoying song in heavy rotation was “Everybody’s Free to Wear Sunscreen.” I couldn’t escape it. Someone produced a brilliant parody that I can’t find, but it contained the words “my meandering belligerence.” Someone must feel that way about my…

 

Read More

Happy Birthday, Dad

Happy birthday, Dad. You would’ve been eighty-five today.   Since you died, I’ve been on a quest to find out who you were. You wrote three memoirs, two of which you had duplicated and distributed among your children. For some reason you didn’t give us the third one, even though you finished it in 2009….

 

Read More

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…

 

Read More

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…

 

Read More

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 Dad wrote three unpublished memoirs that are nearly impossible to read.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…

 

Read More

“I just wanna bitch.”

My father’s hobby was complaining. He’d come over to vent, and if you tried to help, he’d say, “I just wanna bitch. I’m not here for solutions.” It’s ironic because his favorite way shut you up was to ask, “Are you complaining?” He didn’t want to hear anybody else’s problems. Dad loved to hook up…

 

Read More

An excellent beginning

We all know that the National Security Agency listens to our phone calls. Today was especially hilarious as apparently the entire government domestic espionage apparatus was brought to bear on Tim and me. It was an excellent beginning to the writing of my next novel. As anticipated, this afternoon I received some government documents that…

 

Read More

The truth will set you free, but—

Like almost everything, there’s a caveat. The truth will set you free, but only if you can take it. I don’t begrudge anyone their desire to spare themselves terrible knowledge. We’re under no obligation to know the truth. That’s different from lying. Here’s how I look at it: The truth is behind a closed door….

 

Read More

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…

 

Read More