Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Getting off the rock

The texture of cold cuts, even the expensive kind they sell in the deli department of Safeway, makes me want to retch. So today I just had a cheese sandwich, sans the gross cold cuts. Luckily, Chris chooses good cheeses. This time smoked gouda.

Before I fell asleep last night, I thought about being a little kid again, tumbling on my neighbor's front yard. Me and Shari were best friends and practiced all these gymnastic tumbles. That's how I fractured my wrist, doing what's called a "backwards bridge from standing position." Ouch. So sore I couldn't even hold the pen to write. I was so ashamed to go to school with a cast on, I stood against a wall with my arm behind my back before school started. Jennifer was the first to notice. Everyone wanted to sign my cast, and I let them even if I hated some of the stupid shit they were scribbling. I was too shy to protest.

Hawaii and home are such a big part of me, I guess I never realized how much when I was actually living there yearning to get "off the rock." Now I find myself dropping Hawaii references in the most random conversations and being disappointed by the reactions I get. Hawaii is not as important to the people who have just visited. It's palm trees and beaches and fancy hotels and helicopter tours over the volcano.

It's also James, 300 lbs., used to play football for Konawaena, now living in a trailer home in Farmington with his wife and two kids. At the Hawaii club gathering I asked him if he ever went to Durango and he said, "Yeah. Last Christmas time we went. We nevah know they no sell beer in Farmington Christmas-time. Had to drive all the way to Durango just for find one six pack."

I would have been scared of James in elementary school. I would have let him write whatever he wanted to on my cast. Now he's driving trucks through the oil fields while the poi his family sent awhile back sits in his freezer.

James. Maybe it's better he got off the rock. Some people, if they stay, it's like any other place, they fall into the wrong crowd and end up in prison.