Friday, April 22, 2016

Interviewing Gerry from "Rain"


With Rain scheduled to come out on the 15th of May, I thought getting Gerry to sit down and talk with me might be a good idea. He agreed to answer a few questions. Here's a partial transcript. l apologize for a few of the words. Gerry can come up one now and then if pushed. I didn't edit them out.

Partial Interview Transcript- Gerry StClare



How would your best friend describe you?

I have to laugh. Tom has described me to others in several ways. I won’t say I agree with him on all of them, but he’s described me as “tall, too good-looking for his own good”, “Hard-headed”, and “a secret mensch”. Generally all three in a sort of light-heartedly disgusted way.

How would your enemy (or least favorite person) describe you?

I never thought I had enemies until recently, but, yeah, I know how they describe me. Privileged. Arrogant. There were a few more words. I won’t say them in polite company.

Do you agree with either (or both) of those descriptions?  Why?

I’m not sure I agree with Tom or not. I do tend to get on a track and stay on it, until someone or something really knocks me off of it. So I’ll go with the “hard-headed”, though I’d prefer “persistent”. 

The first description? I know I’m tall. That’s kind of hard to ignore. The other half? Try growing up male with nothing but sisters. They never thought or told me I was anything but average. They quickly squashed anything else.

The “secret mensch”? I’m not Jewish, Tom is, but I understand the word. That is not something many know, I don’t go around sharing it, but, yeah, I probably am.

Were the others right? Some would say yes to the first. I did grow up in what some would call a rarified bubble. My grandfather owned his own construction company and helped to establish the local country club. My godmother is highly regarded in “society” circles. So, although my immediate family could be considered “middle class”, I grew up with certain expectations–learning to dance and attending cotillions at the country club, going to college, and all that sort of thing.

Do I agree with them? I’m sure they saw it that way–the “privileged” part anyway. To me it was just home and family. The “arrogant” part? There were things I had to do I didn’t enjoy doing. but they had to be done.

You’re working with a group of people on some kind pf object.  What role do you play?  (Leader, strategist, laborer, etc.)  Do you like your role?

I would say leader. Actually that’s what I do for a living. I’m a supervising architect at my firm. I do have an original job from time to time, but I supervise construction most of the time right now. I grew up following my grandfather around when he was running his construction company, worked for him, and supervised jobs for him when I was older.
Do I like it? Yes. There's something very satisfying about getting a group of people to work hard and produce something you know is going to be around for years. Centuries, if it's the right project, and the job is done right. I like it a lot. Pretty sure it will become even more satisfying when I can do more of my own stuff.

What kind of baggage do you carry around?

Excuse me? Baggage? It depends on how far I’m traveling for and how long I’m going to be gone. My briefcase almost always.

No, Gerry, not that kind of baggage. The other kind--memories--regrets--that sort of thing.

Oh, that’s what you’re talking about. Kind of an invasive question. You’ll forgive me if my answer is short.
Yes, I have memories and regrets. Who doesn’t?


Okay, a silly question then, as people seem to enjoy them. Boxers or briefs?

You have got to be kidding me! No? Damn. Okay, okay. I’ll be brief. Son-of-a. . . I can’t believe I just said that.
I’ll answer the question. Boxers. Just don’t ask me why.

Why?
Enough!


Please note that is not a photograph of Gerry up there. I declined to take one. He is not shy, but I wanted you to form an opinion from his answers, not his face.

Tuesday, April 19, 2016

It's National Poetry Month! So. . . P is for poetry

Note: No, I'm not participating in the A-Z blog challenge. Far too much on my plate with Rain scheduled to come out next month. There are upcoming posts about it, but, in the meanwhile, I realized I hadn't posted any "bad" poetry lately.


 
 
 
 

Hidden


I don’t keep all my memories in boxes
Tucked away in square or rectangular cardboard
All glazed over with bright-colored paper
And sprinkled with stars.
 

My memories lie scattered about me
In haphazard places and on dangerous surfaces
Teetering on the edges, waiting to fall
Out on display, hidden in chaos.
 

Over there the ballerina en pointe
Long pink tutu,
Dancing to a song I no longer remember
Twirling, mesmerizing a five year old I still recall.
 

Glass enclosed bookshelves
Rescued from the trash heap
Carefully restored and gifted
Strewn once with frames and pictures
 

Voices telling stories, markers, places
People whose faces still laugh
Whose dreams I once knew.
Pain I saw as they buried their children.
 

All of my memories, pieces of story
Snatches of music, whispers of touch
All scattered around me–hidden in chaos
And my voice is silenced–no one listening.

 
 
 
 

Staggering: A Writing Trilogy

 

Staggering upright
Changing lanes, leaning on walls
One scene to the next.
 

Inebriated
Chattering so quickly now.
Can’t type that fast . . . please.
 

Words no longer mine
Just theirs, telling a story
Insistent rascals.