
I wrote this yesterday…
Absurdity and Paradox Define Regularity
Sixth grade is an awkward time in adolescence. Old enough for public education to teach you sex. ed. but too young to be comfortable with it. I was 11 years old, the age when you know the Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, and Santa Clause aren’t real but you still look forward to being rewarded for believing in them. I grew up in a lower-middle class, 1950’s built, all-brick (not just the front) home in Central Pennsylvania suburbia. When I wasn’t learning how to tactically take over the world through Real Time Strategy video games, I methodologically explored and reinvented the street block sized “quarantine” my parent had created for me. “Guns,” Capture the Flag, or Hide-and-Go-Seek-Tag, were the usual pastimes, but on this particular day, when there were just enough fallen leaves to hinder a skateboard’s free roll on the newly paved streets, the game was “keep me out of the tree-fort.” The tree-fort was more of a miniature house than the traditional wood plank nailed a fork of tree limbs. The two neighborhood friends who you know always got their way when the wined enough to their self –centered parents, had maliciously boarded up the 3’ square windows with the waterlogged chairs that furnished the interior. I climbed from tree to tree searching for an entrance and resolved to try kick in the obstructions of the nearest window. I swung my body toward the chairs and landed a firm kick. Realizing then that the swinging thrust I had generated now pulled my hands from the sacred branches that connected me to the tree. I remembered what my dad had often said “Always keep one hand on the tree.” It all happened so quickly. And now, here I am, suspended above a world and a future that would soon take me.
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