I will never understand racism. While I certainly don't want to pontificate about matters of social justice and talk outside of my wheelhouse, I simply can not fathom the hatred anyone could harbor for a total stranger simply by the color of their skin. I also can't wrap my head around how people maneuver themselves into positions that quite frankly we're indoctrinated to believe are positions that are meant to keep us safe, civilized, and adhering to a code that promotes moral integrity and altruism. And they abuse it, or manipulate those they are meant to serve. Yet, we see it all the time.
Politicians voting on behalf of corrupt personal or party interests rather than the best interest of their communities or humans. Teachers who abuse their roles as scholars to exploit and harm vulnerable students, and law enforcement officials who exude a brutish bravado to indoctrinate fear in the very people they are allegedly protecting. Since I was a small child, one of the most demoralizing things I ever experienced in my life was realizing that the people I was raised to revere and trust could potentially be one of your most callous antagonists. I don't know what it is like to walk down the street and fear for my life because the color of my skin, that is called privilege and it is something that I am just realizing in my thirties. It came up a lot during the manifestation of this pandemic. While fear and confusion were understandably palpable and reasonable things to feel, I started to watch as the indignation about the state of our world was slowly turning into an issue of raise or divisive party politics. Individuals walking into grocery stores donning a KKK hood, or a face mask that read "Thanks derogatory racial C-word" all the while our president was calling it the "China Virus" rather...the "CHHYYY-NUHHHHH" virus. As a white man, my immediate thought seeing this stuff was..."great, now people are going to look at me and associate me or my family with that glorified bully with militant followers and a destructive penchant for being a shameless bigot. Then another fear was brought to my attention, one of my oldest and dearest friends had confided in me that she was starting to become paranoid about leaving her house with her son because of the color of her skin. While COVID-19 rattled her (understandable), she was more discouraged and frightened to be a Korean-American woman living in an age where people were beginning to show their true colors regarding race and diversity. That's when I had to take a look in the mirror and realize that I was privileged. I never made the correlation between my skin color and that word because I always believed that to be privileged meant to be affluent, socially insulated due to pedigree, or simply living in a plane of existence that destitute people could never imagine even if their broke asses lived to be 100. No. Privilege is being a white kid in the 90s and if you had an Asian and African friend, they never got to be the Green or Red Ranger, they were always assigned the Yellow or Black ranger because well, they fit into that role. As arbitrary as the comparison sounds, its the idea that a person's entire life is boxed up by their race. Frankly, I just don't feel comfortable trying to promote a book, a poem, or even blog if I don't acknowledge that we need to do better. We need to work harder, and we simply can't ignore the problems because they haven't hit close to him for us. That's how we got into this mess in the first place. I try my hardest to be an inclusive writer, and to make sure I am casting the widest net and make sure that people feel that the story, the narrative, or the poem can resonate with them. At the end of the day I know my place in the hierarchy, I'm a guy who simply loves to put pen to paper or sit with a word document and write down aspects of life that inspire, horrify, or anger me and while there is no color to those words, I certainly hope that nothing I write feels that I am leaving anyone out be it by gender, race, culture, or personal merit. Case and point? I have literally watched people weaponize religion my whole life. I have so many experiences to pull from, but today I saw this on a man's car and thought....Oh man, son of a gun you are speaking my language. It restored my faith after I came across an article where an older Christian woman admitted that Trump was hurting the wrong people (meaning her) I'm sorry, but when should an elected official be hurting anyone? I am sure I lost all of you by now, or you're cursing me out, cancelling me (well, that's easy I'm a nobody) but honest to god. We need to do better as humans. This shit has got to stop. I don't want to get so deep into it that I can't fucking find the shore again. ghostcitypress.com/poetry-may-2020/2020/5/30/eddie-brophy Ghost City Press published their May 2020 issue and it is chock full of brilliance and creativity. While I should promote my own work, I also think you should check out every contributor. It really is a melting pot of amazing minds and creativity. I hope creativity, love, pride, family, tolerance, inclusion, and strength defines 2020...otherwise, what in the hell are we living for?
Rest In Power: George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor. WE WILL NOT LET THIS STAND.
0 Comments
I was driving around with my boys today when I passed this sign in someone's yard. It immediately spoke to me and I had to get a shot of it. The night before, my wife and I finally got around to watching "A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood" which...if there is a ever a film, an iconic figurehead, or a sentiment that 2020 needs more now than ever? Look no further than Fred Rogers. Admittedly, the film broke me. I seldom cry in the presence of anyone including my wife and children. While I encourage my sons to cry any time they feel pain, to work it out, to acknowledge it, sadly I am not someone who feels comfortable crying in the company of others. Rather, since I am no longer a deeply depressed emotional drinker...you will rarely find me getting teary eyed. I don't want to spoil the film, suffice to say it felt apropos and delivered an emotional gut punch that I hadn't anticipated. Prior to this, the publisher of my first novel had e-mailed me with a copy of what the interior design team cooked up. It still hasn't hit me yet, primarily because there is still so much work to be done. I am about eight-four pages away from making my final corrections and notes to send to the publisher before a proper mock up will be made and sent my way. Here I am, I am achieving one of the most intangible goals I ever held for myself and it is stymied with the fear of being imperfect, the sorrow of certain individuals not living to see it, and those who are living not caring that it is coming to fruition. I think I am just emotional about it because its such a deeply personal story (yes, it is a work of fiction) for many reasons. I am very excited to get to share that with you all hopefully sooner rather than later. I woke up today from an email from @justin_karcher at @GhostCityPress that the poem I wrote for my second son will be appearing in their May issue! Once it goes live I will be sure to post a link and share it with you all. You should really check out the work that they publish at Ghost City Review. Admittedly this was maybe my fourth or fifth attempt at publication? I just, I needed to be in there. So many amazing writers and it became an obsession to write something that would really knock em dead. So here I am, with this book I have been diligently been proofing and a poem about my other son getting published and still feeling heavy from that film. Rather than exploring my frail psyche and the cumbersome emotional weight it reminded me of...I'd rather share some more pictures with all of you if that's ok? When I feel the weight of sadness about the past or my frustration with the way things have been lately threatening to adhere themselves to my optimism about the book, my kids, my wife, new hobbies, new passions, I just refer back to these pictures and think of Mister Rogers. I remember being in my sophomore year of high school sitting in one of my SPED science classes listening to WBCN on my headphones. DJ Nik Carter had broke the news of Fred's passing as "No Rain" by Blind Melon started to play. I remember like it was yesterday as masterful as Nik could always be he simply said "Fred Rogers has died, Shannon? (the late singer of the group) Take good care of him up there." My final class was english and I had been asked to write something on the overhead projector for an assignment, I remember this because I have always been one to pay homage (sometimes inappropriately) and our young instructor was being reviewed by both the principal and head of the English department when I took the time to draw a smiley face followed by RIP Mister Rogers before doing the assignment. She was HORRIFIED, but the looks on her superiors faces told a different story. Smiles. Respect. Hope.
As long as we still have tomorrow? We still have hope. Hope is not cancelled. Tomorrow is a new day. Make it a great one! How are all my parent readers holding up during this new COVID-19 life? (that is to imply that I actually think I have readers). I get it man, if you're not used to the stay-at-home parent life, I can imagine that you're waking up feeling like Danny Tanner and by the end of the day you're feeling a little more like Jack Torrance (well, in terms of feeling like you're going bonkers without the ax and spectral bartender) the best wisdom that I am given during these times comes from my therapist. It goes without saying that your family, your kids, that stuff should be first and foremost but make sure you're staying healthy mentally and taking some time for yourself along the way. This is a tough journey and while many daft celebrities have compared their quarantine in their million-dollar mansions to prison, I'll be more realistic and say its more like be in the trenches with your troop. You're just trying to weather the storm out, hold your position and ensure that all your troops make it back home safe and sound.
Yesterday I decided to bring the kids out to get some art supplies. I hate that despite taking all the precautions (masks, hand sanitizer, and proper hand washing at home) I still feel like a fucking jackass for taking my kids out there. Unfortunately, sometimes you need to get the supplies your troop needs to get through the daunting days of making sure they're keeping up with their ZOOM education and staying productive. Today we made a sign for my wife's work. My oldest son has recently taken to my Polaroid camera (the stingy prick in me tries to talk him out of it given how expensive the film is. A pack of 16 photos retails for about thirty bucks. The dad in me who wants to foster his creativity is just super excited he likes expressing himself, so I try to reconcile the money part) and took some pictures that we put on the sign. I didn't include those as I'm still super paranoid about sharing photos of my kids in any public capacity with nameless faceless strangers...although, I'm sure you understand. Our rigid routines have my oldest completely off his game and prone to outbursts and fits that often leave yours truly just trying to make sure both my kids and the house don't find themselves in dire need of repair by day's end. For the most part, we do alright. It can wear on you though. I guess I should thank the four years I spent in radio working graveyard shifts and twenty hour doubles for my durability because by the time the kids are ready for bed and my wife is home? I am absolutely on my ass and damn near close to catatonic. I suppose writing this blog helps. Which brings me to my next insecurity...this damn website. I can write, relatively well. Well enough that I am publishing my first novel soon (the publisher hasn't given me a timeline as we're still getting our ducks in a row) but man oh man I am learning fast that I suck at web maintenance and I am dreading the self-promotion aspect. I tried for many years to live out the social media acquiring of followers and subsequently chasing after their approval for likes and shares. The fact of the matter? I hated it when I was doing it, I felt inorganic and the whole process made me feel like a god damn politician who would rather be writing policies or innovating change than turning proverbial tricks to ensure that I locked down a guaranteed vote. I'm really bad at that sort of thing. I get it, my website isn't great (I think it looks like crap, but I am my worst critic) and I am a glorified novice when it comes to creating and delivering a four star platform that will actually make give a shit that I have a book coming out or that I have poems published in various magazines. Hell, to be straight with you? I paid about fifteen bucks a piece for two publications just so I can have a tangible copy of my own work (mind you, I had to wait a few weeks until I could afford to read my own shit) which is why I never ever attempt to post links to get people to buy stuff off me. That's probably the WORST way to promote one's self but its true. Especially during this pandemic? You're either out of work and collecting (hopefully) a decent enough chunk of change to afford to not be homeless and hungry or you're working your body into the ground just to support your family. I don't have any delusion about people needing to purchase a magazine (while it would support the publisher greatly if you chose to do so) with my poem in there just to say you supported it. That would be awesome but if you can't...I get it. Even thinking about this book coming out. God, talk about timing. I mean, frankly? I just want to be read more than paid. Once this thing comes to fruition? I'd love to see (mind you, I'm being idealistic as I have no idea how this actually works) how to get it into more libraries or by selling it...what the hell can I do to make people feel like if they're buying it they can justify that purchase? I haven't worked out a fantastic idea but I love my book and I want to be read...if I can find a way to ensure that the profits can benefit something or someone more than me just so people can feel good about reading it? I'm all for it. So, stay tuned with that. Christ, could I be more insecure about my work? The answer is probably yes but the point of this blog or purpose of staying diligent to it is to have something cathartic to look forward to (personally) while hoping maybe if you're taking the time to read what I'm putting out there, it makes you laugh, makes you think, or more importantly if you're like me (an introvert and by virtue of being a stay at home parent less likely to have a lot of access to people) maybe its a great interaction. So, I will try to focus on that more than the fear of selling books or that you are questioning my ability to keep up a decent enough platform. Alright, I'm going off now...I hope you're hanging in there whether you're married, single, have kids, expecting, trying, have no intention. We're all doing our best to weather the storm. I hope this finds you safe and healthy.
Last week, I was driving around with the kiddos during our daily morning drive (i.e. my futile attempt to get them to both nap to make the day less tedious for myself) and I noticed my gas tank was nearing empty. I pulled off at a gas station I had never been to before but assumed was typical of many gas stations, put on your mask and fill up your tank..no big deal. I'm outside at the pump with my mask on when I realize (now I either missed this due to dad brain or just carelessness) that the pump had a piece of paper taped to it that instructed all patrons to see the clerk inside for a pair of surgical gloves before they filled their tank. Man, I felt like the world's biggest dick in that moment. I was so mad at myself for missing what was this station's mandatory means of allowing people to fill up.
I didn't even finish filling my tank, just enough to get home before ducking and running back into my car to avoid the stigma of being THAT GUY. I called my sister to bitch about the whole "no two gas stations are the same" when she reminded me..."You have hand sanitizer, right?" Of course...nope, forgot that too. Now I'm just angry, paranoid, and feeling like the most irresponsible piece of garbage in the world. She had a good laugh at that, probably redemption for every time I teased her when she'd call me outside of drive-thru to get coffee asking me what the etiquette was in terms of "Do I wear a mask Eddie? Or will I look like I'm overreacting?" That's the thing about this whole ordeal, we are without that leadership telling us...oh hey, do this EVERYWHERE. Then again, our "leader" is so god damn vain he won't wear a mask in public (but I digress). Then today, dressing the kids. Getting in a standoff with a three year old who would rather watch PJ Masks..finally he acquiesces. Prepare a drink for him. Prepare a bottle for the baby. Strap the kids in. Alright. I got everything. The oldest has his device. I have my phone. I have my keys. I have my wallet. I have my mask and my gloves...we're good here. Nope. Realized...I gotta get gas. I forgot my sanitizer. As I was pissed off at how absent minded I can be in a rush, this song came to mind:
I got my Phone. Wallet. Mask. Disinfectant. Keys...and then I saw my first
"Thankful Tree" which I spotted just moments after my oldest (who as tired as he was wouldn't sleep) told me that his coconut water gave him diarrhea. Then I thought, dear god if I wanted him to sleep on this ride why would I give him the 3 year old equivalent of Colon Blow ?
Also....
When the hell did they fast track all of these quarantine yard signs? I feel like I see them everywhere. I love the birthday drive bys. My wife is adamant that she would rather have 6 birthdays for our youngest as he turns one in July (four days before me) while I told her, if he doesn't get a drive by...perhaps she can organize one for me? I'd love to have a firetruck at my house to say hello, who wouldn't?
I won't lie, when my wife told me that she was pregnant with our first child I immediately went online and bought the Ecto-1 I saw on the Playmobil website. Naturally my wife teased me when she realized what I bought and how much it cost me, "Are you buying this for our child? Or are you buying this for you?" I kept it (with a few other Playmobil Ghostbusters toys) in the closet of the nursery until this past fall when my son began exuding an affinity for cars. As I predicted, he immediately fell in love with it and it became one of his absolute favorite toys. This also led to subsequent trips to Target to buy other versions of the Ecto-1 produced by Hot Wheels. However, none of these held a candle to his coveted Playmobil Ecto-1. This past Christmas, when Santa was debating what to get him for Christmas he happened to come across their latest addition to their Ghostbusters line, the most wicked version of the Ecto-1A I have ever laid eyeson. At the time it had retailed at $49.99 before skyrocketing to the $99.99 price tag resellers are now putting on it. It haunts me honestly....it was right there, within my grasp and I let it slip through my fingers. Alright, so there is probably a modicum of truth to my wife's initial inquiry about the motive behind buying these toys for my kid. Let's be real though, I was born in 1987 so I was a glorified child of the early 90s. If you come from this era, do you remember what our toys looked like? There is a reason we're probably the last imaginative generation because our Ecto-1A looked like this. Hey, I LOVED my plethora of The Real Ghostbusters action figures, vehicles, and accessories but COME ON! Don't EVEN get me started on the authentically scaled toy wrestling rings they make today, and the toy ring my mother bought for me in the early 90s (Note: I apologize for the obnoxious overuse of hyperlinks but I don't want to utilize photos that don't belong to me and step on anyone's toes copyright wise). If you were/are a wrestling fan who grew up when I did, have you seen the Mattel Elite WWE figures they make today? The detail, the accessories, the cool ass title belts they come with...compared to our toys that literally had the ability to lift arms up and back down. Sorry, this little soapbox rant has turned into one VERY directionless rant. The point is...its hard NOT to get excited about buying these toys for my kid. More so, when he falls completely in love with them.
I would love for one day when I can show him the only form of the DeLorean I could get my hands on at his age...
Needless to say, when I spotted one of the Playmobil versions of the iconic 80s time machine out in the wild this past weekend I didn't hesitate to snatch it up. Along with a slimer from Hasbro's nostalgic The Real Ghostbusters toy line and the Wal-Mart exclusive Ghost Trap and PKE Meter. On one hand I am so jealous that my kid gets to grow up in a timeline where the happy meal version of that car isn't the only toy version he can own, then again? I think he enjoys the gusto I have when he wants me to play with him and his toys. Parenthood is literally getting to relive your childhood only a cooler and more refined version where you can share passions, enjoy their own cultivated passions, but still feel like a kid all the same. If this pandemic has done nothing else for me? I'm taking solace and enjoyment out of the tiniest and maybe dumbest of things. I was probably more excited to buy that toy for him than he was about me buying it, but he hasn't stopped playing with it since we went home with it. So, that's pretty rad.
During another futile attempt at getting my oldest to nap during our morning car ride, I found myself in a neighborhood with some truly amazing creativity and one of the best mantras to come out of this ordeal. As the sign reads, "We Can Do Hard Things" what an amazing and galvanizing battle cry for those of us who are REALLY starting to feel the quarantine fatigue setting in. As weird as it might sound? I now find myself getting really excited to pack up the boys and seek out positive and creative manifestos wherever I am privileged to find them. I don't know, its become equal parts art project and scavenger hunt to me. Rather than compulsively check my phone for updates, or be inundated with news coverage or daunting political press conferences that look more like a dog trying to chase its own damn tail...I love getting my daily updates from those who are staying the f home. I can't emphasize enough how remarkable some of these pieces are. Kudos to the parents who are collaborating with their children to promote messages of hope and optimism and remind all of us that the real mission here is unity and togetherness. Among the many things quarantine has given me the opportunity to discover or re-discover a sincere passion for (cooking, reading, watching classic NBA games, documentaries, podcasts, and my oldest son's recent affinity for creating imaginative worlds) bad parent puns are certainly rating way the hell up there. I found myself stopped in front of a total stranger's house having a Ralph Wiggum moment while my kids looked at me like I was an idiot. "It says Be Safe, but with a picture of a BEE." Given the fact that I am married to a nurse (confession, this is the sign outside of her facility) people showing their appreciation for the healthcare staff on the front line resonates deeply. This is a woman who is completely invested in the safety and quality of life of her geriatric patients and unfortunately? Battling COVID? It means less time at home with her boys which has been wearing on her both psychologically and physically. The worst part? She feels so guilty about doing the job that I truly believe she was put on this planet to perform. I do my best to assure her that she is exactly where she needs to be and while not seeing her children wears on her, they are proud of her. Mommy is saving lives right now and she (like so many others including grocers, custodial workers, postal workers, basically anyone who is putting their lives at risk because they are an essential employee) is doing what she has to do to make sure that we can get back to normal with as many of our loved ones in tact as humanly possible.
Admittedly, some of these blogs I write? They aren't going to have a real specific purpose other than to share some things that I find outside of quarantine that I think deserve recognition. This is one of those posts. My novel is still going through the process of getting it ready for publication (I submitted the final draft on Monday) so there's no updates on that yet, and frankly? I don't really want to use this as a platform to assert my personal ideologies about...well, anything really is I feel everyone (as long as they're not hurting people) are entitled to their respective ideologies. Right now? I am just getting a kick out of finding such cool stuff out there and I want to put a spotlight on it. I hope this finds you all safe, healthy, motivated, happy, creative, and moving forward.
One of the silver linings to this pandemic has absolutely been in the positive affirmations existing right in our backyard. While both of my kids are too young to truly comprehend what is going on, I know my three year old has certainly taken to our daily morning car rides to seek out all the creativity and encouragement that our neighbors are doing to keep everyone's morale up. Again, I don't fancy myself a photographer but given the unfathomable nature of what is going on? I feel like if something truly beneficial can be taken from it? Its the unwavering perseverance and sense of community it has created (Well....for the most part but we'll get to that in a minute) in our neighboring towns and cities. By the end of this? I hope I will have amassed more positive images that I can refer to when I start getting lost in what I believe to be a dark or difficult moment only to realize that we are all living in one of the darkest timelines we could have conceived of.
Our drives are equal parts inspiring and jarring as the economy takes a nosedive putting so many local establishments out of business and our main streets feel more like a squalid wasteland of FOR LEASE signs and sidewalks littered with surgical masks or materials fashioned to protect each other from this ravenous virus. One establishment even took the time (despite the fear of its survival) to respectfully nod at the hardworking healthcare staff working diligently to keep their patients alive and healthy.
Unfortunately, (and its not something I want to spend a lot of time on) there are also those who are using the pandemic to pontificate political views and their own personal indignation about the shelter-in-place acts that have been instituted for our own safety. I would love to see the irony in it, but in one of the wealthier neighborhoods in a city my kids and I were driving around in I spotted this...
This was upsetting, but I also think its just as important as the other images. Whether I disagree with the sentiment or not? This person has every right to communicate it, and I honestly feel like its a very important part of the narrative. We are living in a time where leadership is imperative, and frankly? I think a lot of us are wondering what the hell leadership actually looks like, while some of us? I don't really know how to articulate this...I'm confused, any time we disagree with a policy, a decision, a person, a party...is it a thing that the person or party we disagree with is now akin to Adolf Hitler? The jury isn't exactly out on that I suppose. This sign got to me, but I'm glad that it did. Because something that I resented as a kid after the trauma of 9/11 blew over? All the miniature American flags that were fashioned on cars, backpacks, and houses (Yes, even HOUSES. A house in the town I grew up in literally transformed itself into an American Flag) just...disappeared. Like patriotism was a fashion statement. Hell, even worse?
After the Boston Marathon bombing half the state were all about being BOSTON, WATERTOWN, STONEHAM, INSERT TOWN HERE Strong. Around that period? I worked in a thrift store and eventually wound up managing it. The number of donated This place STRONG shirts that poured into our store? It was discouraging. I hope that people still keep the signs in their yard long after this blows over. Why? Because I don't think trauma, tragedy, a pandemic, a terrorist act, or the death of something should goad us into expressing our strength. The best part about seeing all the GOOD and the BAD? Seeing people's ingenuity and their character shine through. That has been really amazing...even when sometimes the message isn't as positive. I love getting the opportunity to read the narrative of humans right in their own yards. ............................................ So, what the hell is the "Existential Mix-Tape?" Well. Other than sounding like a cool title for a poem or song? I think its a project I'd like to work on be it on this blog, a future podcast, or just something I will continue working on personally. Because this site/blog are largely a platform for me to share my poems or help promote the future release of my book? I would love to interact more with a potential audience and not just make it about...read my stuff, validate me, make me feel heard! No. I would love to be read or heard for the simple fact that....I would love to know what people can relate to and what resonates with them. Earlier today, I was in the shower and I was thinking about how my drives with the boys typically involve me listening to Grilling J.R., Something to Wrestle With Bruce Prichard, Unlocking Us with Brene Brown, or my usual playlists of 90s pop and alternative music. I ALWAYS without missing a beat always come back to Janet, or Ms. Jackson when I'm feeling NASTY. More specifically, her 1993 Janet. album. Its definitely a top five for me, there is a lot of sentimental reasons behind that and just as I get older? A lot of nostalgia comes with it but I also appreciate the arrangements, the lyrical maturity, and the overall narrative more and more. So, I was just thinking what if I start working on an existential mix-tape. This is a tape of songs that define my life. Maybe they've evolved or there is a sentiment that grew up since the first time I heard the songs...maybe they still make me feel the same way when I first heard them? Either way, it sounded like a fun idea. Kinda like the desert island game where you think of like what are the 5 albums you bring with you if you're stuck on a desert island? In this case...what are the songs that I feel define me or have some semblance of sentiment or attachment to them. Somehow they are just espoused with me. I want to try this because I think it could then be a cool activity to try to get out of you guys (if you are in fact here and reading) and if you feel the need? Write to me. Click the contact tab, and write to me about what song(s) would be on your existential mix-tape and why. When you write to me, let me know if I can share your story and if not? That's cool, I'd just love to read YOUR story about YOUR existential mix tape. To get the ball rolling? Here is one of mine..
Personally? I have always believed that Janet was the most talented out of the entire family. Something about her voice, her energy, as corny as this might sound...but even her womanhood. "Lets Wait Awhile" to "If" feel like such a powerful progression not just maturity wise but also sexually. To go from the innocence of celibacy to the liberating feeling of owning her sexuality as an adult. When Janet sang love songs whether wistful or hemorrhaging with vulnerability, you never ever questioned her integrity and nine times out of ten? You could relate. I think that's what this song did for me. Granted, the first time I heard it I was only six years old. However, at the time? My two big sisters were obsessed with her. In some ways this song takes me right back to the bedroom the three of us shared in my dad's one bedroom bachelor apartment (our parents' were divorced at the time and this is where we slept on the weekends when we'd visit him) and in this room? My oldest sister (a dancer at the time) was choreographing routines for me and my female cousin to perform for my dad and his friends.
As lame as that sounds? That has always been a really great memory for me considering all the shitty stuff that was going on and was around the bend waiting to traumatize us. This song in particular was a constant rotation on my sister's boom box. I don't know, I guess it takes me to a simpler time that I forget all the horror of because I just remember us when were kids. I also hear that side of me that as I grew older I was so in love with the idea of love, and when the reality of unrequited love or actual love sunk in? I don't know...it makes me miss when both the honeymoon phase of relationships and the devastation of a heart break still feel strangely beautiful all the same. When you're a kid, a teenager, or even in your twenties...you just want love to be something that doesn't get as complex or indifferent when you find yourself at the age your parents were when they just seemed like morons for not getting it. So, there's one of my existential mix-tape songs. What's one of yours? Write to me. Most importantly? Stay safe. Admittedly? I am not a photographer. I never ever took much of an interest in it, nor did I harbor much confidence that anything I would photograph could be deemed art. However, recently I find myself pretty enamored with the sights of COVID-19 society. Just before the state I live initiated its put a shelter-in-place act, things were relatively normal. Meaning, the people wearing masks and gloves in Target seemed like the overzealous ones while those of us treating it like another day at the opium of department stores were completely rational. During one of the last protective mask trips I took, I spotted a Polaroid camera on clearance for forty bucks. I thought, SCORE! This is amazing. Context: I don't enjoy photographing anything on my phone because I have these hand tremors which I jokingly refer to as "trauma tremors" due to my childhood. Turns out, my therapist pointed out that is exactly what they are. Essentially, I became a chihuahua after years of abuse at the hands of my father and a few teachers and my bi-polar has me shaking uncontrollably because I am in a constant state of fear. The reason I am addressing this is because I have been asked by people to take a photo or video for them and when they get it....well, it looks like you asked someone with Parkinson's to take a selfie. The great thing about Polaroids? Trauma Tremors be damned! The awful thing about Polaroids? They're unpredictable and you don't get to be spoiled with all the touch-ups and focus perks you get with a state of the art smartphone. Then again? In this age of social distance? Challenge. Accepted. I say this and yet the photo above was in fact taken in the same Target parking lot...on. my phone... Anyway, I think I have taken a few interesting shots. Some I have submitted to contests (unfortunately, I can't share those) but some I'd like to share on here (both Polaroid and digital) with maybe a reason for why I found it interesting. So make a short story long? Here are some shots: I don't know if I'm going to get in trouble for this, but this is the author photo as it will appear in my first book. Why did I chose this? The simple answer? The book largely takes place in the 90s and well...its culturally kitsch. The real answer? When the book doesn't sell? You can't shame who you can't see. If the book does modest numbers? You can't stalk who you can't recognize. That's not me trying to be a narcissist, I have in fact been stalked. Its fucking weird and not fun...its also baffling. Don't people typically stalk attractive or famous people? Now, the digital.... It will never NOT be weird (despite the relevance of the pandemic) to see people out for casual walks or jogs in surgical masks. I try to get photos like these (although, it makes me feel like a creep because while there are good intentions behind it I'd be really freaked out if a stranger took a picture of me for no reason) because I want my sons to see just how truly unreal 2020 really felt if you were old enough to live through it and understand the scale of it. Just the juxtaposition of the surreal to the optimistic normal. For every aspect of this that scares the shit out of me? I have a responsibility to not succumb to it for the sake of these two. So, that's my stream of consciousness for tonight. I hope you are all safe and healthy and remember, We are all in this together and we will come out the other end.
First and Foremost (if you're reading this) How are you? How are you coping? Is your family well? Hopefully these "Unprecedented" (the buzz-word of 2020) times find you well physically, mentally, and emotionally. For anyone old enough to remember the 1983 television film "The Day After" to some extent we are finally living (to some degree) all those 1980s dystopian films in the form of COVID-19. Who knew that salt wouldn't be the most coveted resource in our new post-apocalyptic era...it was always toilet paper! Not to make light of such an awful situation but if you lose your sense of humor what else do you have left? So this is my first blog and a somewhat "re-booted" version of my author platform.
I can't even articulate how profoundly tedious the endeavor of creating an author platform has been given my aversion to being a public individual now being the father of two children (really its my lack of how the hell to use the damn site) and the fact that I didn't want to work so hard on something no one would visit...but alas, I am trying to get better. Why? Well, I am currently awaiting the publication of my first novel. Its pretty exciting, but also because this shelter in place quarantine has afforded me opportunities to indulge in new hobbies and discover amazing films, songs, and moments that are manifesting out of all this uncertainty and frustration. So, this is my official second first blog for this site. I don't know how diligent I will be about it but several things started happening around the tail of 2019 (before this crisis unfolded). I published my first short story. "The B.K.R. Killer" I have also been published in The Penman Review, Terror House Magazine, and most recently in Better Than Starbucks Shameless self promotion aside? Being a stay at home dad going on two years now? I know how important connection and communication with the outside world truly is. Thankfully, we have that in spades these days but despite our immediate accessibility to so many people and so much information? Sometimes it can be both overwhelming and the stuff we allow ourselves to be inundated with can exacerbate our already frail psyche. The idea is to make this blog something personal but also something beneficial as we ride out both this pandemic and I get to the final stages of my first novel being published. I woke up this morning to an e-mail that someone had reached out through this website to me to tell me they saw my poem in Better Than Starbucks. To this individual? I literally didn't think anyone would actually follow that link to this page, I also didn't expect to get a friendly hello from them. So, I guess that's my motivation to getting back on this thing. So what the hell will I write about? Depends, I still have a rather guarded relationship with the internet because of my kids. However, I have become obsessed with my recent Polaroid/Social Distance Photography hobby. I have subscriptions to the WWE Network, Shudder, and the Criterion Channel, and I am always looking for new podcasts to listen to. So again, welcome. I am Eddie Brophy (poet and author) and if you're curious about the stuff I write or the kinds of things I enjoy? Here is where you'll find it! I look forward to joining you in the trenches during this ordeal and when its finally over? I am looking forward to sharing how much more we appreciate life after living in fear. Take care of yourselves. We're going to get through this. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
September 2021
Categories |