Thomas Wictor

Posts Tagged ‘Mom’

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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Nothing bores me more

Don’t try to engage me in a discussion on the battle of the sexes. Nothing bores me more. Men and women are different; men and women are both human. The end. Someone just made the most obtuse statement I’ve ever read about my writing. Though I won’t repeat it, here’s my reaction to it. I…

 

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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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An unexpected un-ghosting

After Mom’s funeral and the reception, I heard car doors slam in the driveway of what I should start calling Tim’s house. Since I wasn’t able to attend the service, I went over to talk with Tim, Paul, and Eric to find out how it went. There was a very expensive imported car parked in…

 

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The importance of not being afraid

Both my parents were afraid to die, but Dad was crippled with terror. It was simply not possible to talk to him about his death. He told me in all seriousness that until he was seventy-five, he honestly thought he’d live forever. I’ve never known anyone who thought he was immortal. The neighbors who used…

 

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All parents die

Got an e-mail. What are you so upset about? All parents die. Indeed. All humans die. However, there are different ways of dying. Would you rather die in your sleep at the age of eighty-five, or would you rather be flayed alive at the age of thirty? I’m upset at the manner of my parents’…

 

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Swimming at last

Dave, The Best Therapist in the World, told me that my situation was similar to a person afraid of learning to swim. It wasn’t water that scared me but emotion. Feeling deep emotions was terrifying. I was raised to think that genuine emotions were dangerous. This was a tradition on both sides of the family….

 

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Vergangenheitsbewältigung

The Germans are great at coming up with words to describe the complexity of human existence. Schadenfreude. “The humor one feels at another’s misfortune.” Laughing when someone’s pants fall off in public, for example. Backpfeifengesicht. “A face badly in need of a fist.” Someone who’s got the kind of face you just want to smash….

 

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