Jon Pear (a.k.a. NeuroAster)

Posts Tagged ‘family’

sidewalk chalk

In my world on March 19, 2010 at 8:54 pm

All of the things my sister and I wrote and drew in sidewalk chalk in our youth have long since faded away . . .

The time we pretended she was a teacher and I was a student, and I wrote:

“i will do what teacher says

i will do what teacher says

i will do what teacher says . . .”

The time we drew Pac-Man and Mario throwing barrels at Donkey Kong and The Ghost-Monsters.

The time we drew Mario walking up to a mushroom cloud and thinking “Golly, how do I get out of this one?”

The time we drew the sun smiling down on a cornfield and saying “Grow, grow . . .”

The time we wrote:

“KEN AND BARBIE SITTING IN A TREE

K-I-S-S-I-N-G”

The hopscotch-court we drew . . .

The time we drew the Middle-Aged Pervert Krishna Gerbils.

The time we drew the Care Bears versus Ewoks football game.

The time we wrote “COKE RULES AND PEPSI SUCKS” up and down the neighborhood.

The sloppy pictures we drew of our super-hero “OttoMan” saving the world from “The Evil Dr. Byzantine.”

All of the things my sister and I wrote and drew in sidewalk chalk in our youth have long since faded away . . .

The Tree and I

In my world on March 8, 2010 at 9:03 pm

One cold February day, when I was still a preteen (this was still a while before my mother died of cancer in 1993), I made up my mind that the Christmas decorations had stayed up in front of my mother’s house long enough. We were always the last people in the whole neighborhood to take down the Christmas lights in front of our house. I made up my mind that this was a priority, that someone had to take the initiative here, and that it might as well be me.

With stubbornness, incredulity, and focused determination, I suited up in my winter coat, mittens, and boots, and marched straight to the front door, where the goofy multi-colored flashing miniature light-bulbs lay draped across a wiry, scrawny, leafless deciduous tree just beside the front steps of our house. Why weren’t these dxmn things taken down by now? How hard could it really be anyway?

With firm resolve, I stomped down our front steps, strutted right up to the decorated tree, and stood in front of it, assessing the seemingly straightforward task before me. Christmas decorations up in February, how silly! This, I decided, was not going to wait a moment longer. It was time. Period.

I reached out in front of me to where part of the bulb-laden cable hung down from one of thin, limp, brittle deciduous branches. I grabbed the electric cable and began to pull. Suddenly, the tree-branch itself snapped off, whopped me on the forehead (leaving a slight scar that I would see in the mirror later), then fell on the toe-end of my left boot. I blinked, grunted, then noticed that the cable itself was no further off of the tree than when I had begun.

Undaunted, I fiddled a bit with the cable, searching for its proverbial Achilles’ heel, a place where it was more loose and more vulnerable to being removed. After a minute or two, I came across the end of the cable that extended a short distance away from the tree. I followed this extension with my eyes, and found that it terminated at the outdoor electrical outlet attached to the front of the garage, where the cable was plugged in. My lower jaw dropped to what must have been my ankles! How stupid not to have thought of unplugging these stupid flashing Christmas lights before getting them off the tree!

I took a deep breath, sighed, and plodded toward the electrical outlet to unplug the dxmn cable. Suddenly, I slid on the ice and fell with one hard WHOMP down on my ass! “OOH!” I grunted! Now, I was really pissed off!

With a sneer, I picked myself up, brushed myself off, and took slow, cautious steps toward the electrical outlet. I finally unplugged the dxmn cable, and carried the plug end back to the tree.

I wound part of the plug end of the cable around my forearm. I could almost taste victory. I reached my hand closer into the tree to get at the bulb-laden portion of the cable and pull it out. But much of the cable was intricately intertwined with the dry, cold, and prickly deciduous branches. The cable could not just be pulled; it had to be untangled.

I pried apart two deciduous branches that had a portion of the cable between them, and suddenly they snapped apart like a wishbone! The next thing I knew, my right wrist was scraped and bleeding! How did THAT happen???

An hour later, the dxmn Christmas decorations were finally down and put away in some box somewhere, and I was wearing bandages in several places. Just as I was resolving never to attempt taking down Christmas decorations ever again, my mother called me to the kitchen, where a found that she had baked a tray of delicious chocolate muffins, as a kind of reward for my labor and my helpfulness.

The adventures of my black turtleneck sweatshirt

In sigma on March 2, 2010 at 9:05 am

Black turtleneck sweatshirt that my mother gave me for Christmas when I was 13 years old:

I was wearing it when I first shaved at the age of 14.

I was wearing it on my first date (and during my first kiss) at the age of 15.

I was wearing it when I failed my first driving test at the age of 16.

I was wearing it when I found my first gray hair at the age of 17.

I was wearing it when I first voted at the age of 18.

I was wearing it when I sipped my first cup of coffee at the age of 19.

I was wearing it when I hit my first (and last) home run at the age of 20.

I was wearing it when, at the age of 21, I was handed back my first (and last) 50 page Political Science term paper, graded with a big red “C+” glaring at the top of the title-page.

I was wearing it when I first stared into a wolf’s eyes on a camping trip, at the age of 22 (The wolf ran away.)

I was wearing it when I accepted a position as a paid church choir soloist at the age of 23 (I resigned after 5 years).

I was wearing it when I took my first solo Greyhound bus trip to Ashern, Manitoba at the age of 24.

I was wearing it when, at the age of 25, I stumbled upon my misplaced wallet, after I’d already got my bank card replaced and all my personal ID and everything.

I was wearing it when I began working my first shift as a janitor at SuperValu, at the age of 26. I was wearing it the first time I held a snake (a street beggar’s pet snake; he let me hold it in exchange for some money), at the age of 27.

I was wearing it the first time I (successfully) downhill skied the hardest slope on Mount Agassiz, at the age of 28.

I was wearing it the day I moved in with my same-sex common-law spouse at the age of 29, and we’re still together and still very much in love after over seven years.

Black turtleneck sweatshirt. I still wear it sometimes. My spouse tells me that I look very handsome and very sexy in it.

Black turtleneck sweatshirt, a gift from my mother. She died of cancer in 1993. I was 20 years old.

thalidomide

In Uncategorized on August 13, 2008 at 5:49 am

Open my skull and stir-fry my brain and see if I care

Open my skull and stir-fry my brain and call it a cure

Open my skull and stir-fry my brain if it makes you happy

Open my skull and make changes, making me not-as-scary

Misunderstandings, hindsight, and apologies

Now until death, authorities are enemies

All of your inconvenience is disposable

Call me a brat, a robot, or an animal

What if every breath you took ruined someone else’s life?

What if every breath you took filled a thousand hearts with grief?

What if you were punished so hard for every breath you took,

You endured the impact each day of life, without a break?

“Limousine Jonathan” is all gone

Far from the property you now own

Serve your employers, and be well paid

Dream of utopia, and feel good

All of the dollar-bills and coins you touch are lifeless and cold

Enemies, friends, and strangers are vermin, crawling low in your world

All you observe is just a bland, vanilla, sedative bore

Open my skull and stir-fry my brain and see if I care

We’ve had better weekends

In Uncategorized on June 30, 2008 at 5:00 pm

I am gay, and my spouse’s parents are homophobic

Genealogy’s ties are ruthlessly strict and toxic

How the bullying tears and screams of my spouse’s parents

Make our landlord appear as tame as our fellow tenants

We, the sick human species, prey upon our own

Then, we chit-chat about our “righteousness” and “sin”

Go believe that the world is changing, as if by magic

I am gay, and my spouse’s parents are homophobic

Another visit with Grandma Dolly

In Uncategorized on June 23, 2008 at 5:52 pm

Grandmother laughed when I asked if she ever feels like she’s in a science-fiction story

“Ringtones” of portable-telephones, out-of-context, foreign, abrupt, confusing, scary

Modern-technology changes at bullet-speed; you blink, and you’re out-of-touch and clueless

Clueless, forgotten, and dizzy, unless you’re always making the latest trendy purchase

Grandmother laughed, shrugged, and said: “I guess. Oh well.”

Grandmother smiled cool, and let the world prevail

Now, she’s retired and serene, in a realm of screens with alphanumeric-data-frenzy

Grandmother laughed when I asked if she ever feels like she’s in a science-fiction story

My e-mail address is neuroaster@gmail.com

In alpha on January 22, 2008 at 10:11 am

Please feel free to hack and cyberstalk me all that you want

My faith kept the “only human” sane and now I am spent

Just blame all who fail to fit your definition of “health”

Real truth fails to teach the world the wisdom needed for growth

Enter the introspective realm of soul’s-autumn, here, now

Listen to all you want to hear or kiss youth you once knew

Winnipeg bites my skin with hungry wind-chill at this time

Typing at this computer now, I feel autumn’s dream-calm

Healed minds learn to just kiss the entire universe

Trudge through trials and sing sighs of inhaled ambience

I have an Asperger Brain in my cranium

Born in the death of the second millennium

Wetware is the truth within human skulls, wetware is what we are

Asperger within my skull doesn’t bite, nor does it need a cure

Readers are confused, I’ve made peace with how often I’m misconstrued

Making you aware that we do exist heals me, and makes me proud

Life is never a short-cut through the scenic-route of perspective

Yes I breathe with a pulse here, yes I’m still awake and proactive

I’m affirming denied real truth and raising public awareness

I am married and gay, not here to “cam” or court any “honeys”

Choose thoughts, think the thoughts you choose to think, and believe the beliefs you need to believe

Let’s make peace with all we see and hear in eachother’s ways to survive

That won’t happen now within my lifetime, and making a difference is my only intent

Please feel free to hack and cyberstalk me all that you want