As a 3o-something with an older brother, I’ve found that sometimes, life is extremely simple. Insomuchas that sometimes, you can’t see around things and sometimes you’ve got a straight view at your goals. Of course, there’s always that moment that someone else mucks it up for you.
I play pool. 8-Ball and 9-Ball. I am an official member of the APA. That would be, American Poolplayers Association. My brother is a member of the BCA. That would be, Billiards Congress of America. There used to be a BCA in my area and now there’s not. There is the APA and another league that I know nothing about. So… moving on.
There’s this field of green felt, or burgundy or black or whatever color the table came in. On it are all the obstacles and goals in life that may come or go in my own life. Sometimes the other player knocks the shit out of my plan and wa la, I have to get low and really really look at the field and go, huh, what will I do now. If I go this route, well, it’ll be easy, the path is straight and clear and there’s where I want to end up, but after that short term goal is met, then what? what do I do after that….? huh, maybe I ought to go this route, it’s a little more difficult and harder to manuver, but I can do, and it will be worth it, why? because once that first step is done, the path to the final goal will be clearer and I have other options after that first step, unlike my first inclination to take the easy route which would only leave me stumped.
Did that make sense? I have no idea. But I roll slow… I roll fast, I roll tricky. I’m by no means like the black widow. I’m not that close to being awesome. But I wow myself on a weekly basis, sometimes twice or three times a week. I only played a 9 ball match today, and I won. IT was a good day.
Well, a good day for pool anyway. Lots of people smoking, drinking, eating, talking. The chatter is the best. You can feel them relating to other people and making a connection in the universe of good will and fun. IT was nice that during the day, there was no one making an argument and starting a fight. It was early enough in the day that drunk hadn’t happened yet for a lot of people. If only it could stay that way.
I stayed for about 3 1/2 hours today. Watching and observing. Watching and listening. The music was good. I would have been happy with other genres too. But I’ve found it a good idea to NOT put the type of music I like on the box. People get confused. And it invades into their thoughts and that’s not good during a match.
I played well today. Well enough to win my match but I’m humble enough to know, it could have gone the other way. I wasn’t paying enough attention to the detail on the felt. And the other player could have caught up and won. But, it didn’t happen. That’s great.
So, if you’re looking for some fun and not the ordinary get drunk and party sort of day, look into getting on a pool league and joining a team.
I have to tell you though, that for a long time I thought just about NOT playing. I learned when I was about 5 or 6 years old how to play. But remember what I said. I have an older brother. And he used to change the rules on me whenever my dad wasn’t around because he could. But I learned how to compete. The problem was, I learned I shouldn’t win too often even by accident, because you never know what your opponent was going to do afterward. So, I have a hard time just staying in the zone. The tendency of flinching is still with me. My brother hated it when he lost. It was the end of my day if that happened.
But I’m happy for my brother. He’s a division 1 grand champion several times over and he’s awesome. I wish he could get out to play more often because right now he’s got this wife. His 1st wife as I like to refer to her. I’m certain someday there will be a 2nd wife. Isn’t that evil to think that way? oh well. I can kick her ass in pool! Aside from being the mother of my neice and nephew… I have nothing to like about her. I miss my brother. It’s not a jealousy issue by the way. She can spend all the time she wants with him. I don’t care. But don’t get in the way me spending time with my brother. Don’t guilt him into staying home. Don’t delete my emails when I send him a note. Don’t delete my phone messages on the machine when I leave one. Don’t pretend to forget that I called and forgot to tell him.
Thick as theives. That would be he and me. Some things don’t change no matter the distance (almost 300 miles) or the fact that married life can scoop you up and never want to let you out of its claws. (no, I think marriage is great, just not for him – at least not this one anyway).
I’m tired and it’s early but late all at the same time. If I could think, I probably wouldn’t have written at all, but, I needed to feel the click of the keys beneath my finger tips. Did I mention that I’m trying to forget how to feel certain things? March 13. It would have been a great day not to remember. But March 13 1999 I walked out of my life and began again. March 6 1999 I died and it only took 1 week to get as much as I could together and my brother stepped up and arrived and helped me pack most of my shit together and load it in a uhaul and me and my two kids and my brother and one of his close friends drove over 600 miles back home where I had always belonged.
For once, he helped pick up the pieces of my life and didn’t say a word or make the knife go deeper. He’s a good brother. The best I have. And that doesn’t change, even after fights, bruises and yelling matches. There are no words to express the extent that he and I would have gone through to ensure the safety and well being of one another.
We may be dysfunctional, but we’re brother and sister, and really, that’s better than being perfect!
