zina, the dude on the radio and paul
let me tell you about zina, a kid who really seems to know where it's at.
three nights ago in dallas, we're all at dinner--russ&sudi, ric&sheila (with zina) and vince&me. and russ is making small talk with zina between bites of cake.
he goes: "so, zina, what do you want to be when you grow up?" keep in mind she's five.
and she tilts her head to one side and goes, "what?" like "what are you even talking about?"
so he repeats the question: "so, zina. what do you want to be when you grow up?"
and she kinda laughs because his question is, of course, silly.
"a human being what else?" she says.
***
outside of raleigh, north carolina, thirty-four years ago, a 10-year-old boy stopped bouncing his basketball to listen to his neighbor tell him about a murder that just occured up the road. the story is one we've heard before. it goes something like this: young black man, older white man, one dead, the other unpunished even after a trial by his peers.
only, the story doesn't stop there. in this story, the boy lives the following 34 years as evidence to the murder. his book, Blood Done Sign My Name is now available. one moment in a life, 34 years in gestation.
and even today, at the headstone of the murdered man's grave, tim tyson, who traded in his basketball for a phD in african-american studies, stutter-steps through his thoughts. "i came out here," he says, "because the murder of henry marrow marked my life and it marked my hometown. and coming to grips with that has been kind of a life work for me because...it's not just henry marrow you know...it's kind of a symbolic thing about our history and the difference between us, and how we reconcile that and how we come to be one country."
another kid who knew about being a human being. another kid who realizes the vast interiority of the self.
***
tonight i met a friend up at the bar. trouble is i didn't spend much time with her because i ran into another--i can't say friend exactly, but i can say my closest girlfriend's ex from, oh, more than 10 years ago.
anyway, paul. he's a lawyer now. says he's surrounded by republicans at work. he's married now. he said very nice things about my friend. of course, it took me about 30 seconds once outside the bar to call her. she was stunned.
"paul!? said that!?
"yep."
"huh. he said he was a real asshole? he said he was immature? he said to say hello to me? he said he hopes i'm happy? how does he look? is he fat? how does he look-- wiat!--did you think he was good looking back then?"
it went on like that for some time. she'd barrage me with questions, then settle into a little cloud of thought.
"it's almost..." she sounded like she was going to cry..."sad."
"it's not sad, it's great!" i said.
"yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaah," she sighed. "that is...really...nice."
sometimes i guess it takes a little time for kid logic to kick in.
three nights ago in dallas, we're all at dinner--russ&sudi, ric&sheila (with zina) and vince&me. and russ is making small talk with zina between bites of cake.
he goes: "so, zina, what do you want to be when you grow up?" keep in mind she's five.
and she tilts her head to one side and goes, "what?" like "what are you even talking about?"
so he repeats the question: "so, zina. what do you want to be when you grow up?"
and she kinda laughs because his question is, of course, silly.
"a human being what else?" she says.
outside of raleigh, north carolina, thirty-four years ago, a 10-year-old boy stopped bouncing his basketball to listen to his neighbor tell him about a murder that just occured up the road. the story is one we've heard before. it goes something like this: young black man, older white man, one dead, the other unpunished even after a trial by his peers.
only, the story doesn't stop there. in this story, the boy lives the following 34 years as evidence to the murder. his book, Blood Done Sign My Name is now available. one moment in a life, 34 years in gestation.
and even today, at the headstone of the murdered man's grave, tim tyson, who traded in his basketball for a phD in african-american studies, stutter-steps through his thoughts. "i came out here," he says, "because the murder of henry marrow marked my life and it marked my hometown. and coming to grips with that has been kind of a life work for me because...it's not just henry marrow you know...it's kind of a symbolic thing about our history and the difference between us, and how we reconcile that and how we come to be one country."
another kid who knew about being a human being. another kid who realizes the vast interiority of the self.
tonight i met a friend up at the bar. trouble is i didn't spend much time with her because i ran into another--i can't say friend exactly, but i can say my closest girlfriend's ex from, oh, more than 10 years ago.
anyway, paul. he's a lawyer now. says he's surrounded by republicans at work. he's married now. he said very nice things about my friend. of course, it took me about 30 seconds once outside the bar to call her. she was stunned.
"paul!? said that!?
"yep."
"huh. he said he was a real asshole? he said he was immature? he said to say hello to me? he said he hopes i'm happy? how does he look? is he fat? how does he look-- wiat!--did you think he was good looking back then?"
it went on like that for some time. she'd barrage me with questions, then settle into a little cloud of thought.
"it's almost..." she sounded like she was going to cry..."sad."
"it's not sad, it's great!" i said.
"yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaah," she sighed. "that is...really...nice."
sometimes i guess it takes a little time for kid logic to kick in.
posted by stacy muszynski at 4:02 AM
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