Of Comic Books, Tough Childhoods and More Weird Dates

[mallorys_camera]

As it turns out, I'm going up to Syracuse next weekend instead of this. Which is fine by me since I have about eight billion things to do plus I'm deep in the middle of the extraordinarily engrossing The Glass Castle, Jeannette Walls' memoir about the worst childhood in the history of mankind on this planet.

I also need to finish my comic book prototype by Thursday's Big meeting with the Reverend Cal Cooley so I can beg the necessary funding to get it published. My operating budget at this point consists of the $147 in cash donations Jeremy and I took in during last month's food drive. There was some debate over whether this was an entirely honest transaction given that the people donating those crumpled ones and fives thought they were providing Thanksgiving Baskets for Poughkeepsie's Least Fortunate Families (Reverend Cal's rhetoric, not mine), but in fact, I'd made a point of talking up the food cart business in the one-sheeters I papered the supermarket with, so from my perspective at least, I was upfront about what I intended to use the cash for.

One hundred and forty-seven dollars, however, isn't gonna pay for publishing that comic book. Gonna have to pitch the right Reverend C for the additional costs.

Without any of my art supplies, and knowing my budget would probably constrain me to black and white, this is the type of artwork I came up with:




Ancient Rapidograph on a very old drawing pad.

In case you can't tell, the miscreant on the left is conducting a drug deal while the guy on the right is getting an A on his midterm (with the support and guidance of our wonderful youth program, of course!) For propaganda purposes, I figured it was better to make the kid peddling drugs white.

The Glass Castle is a fabulous book by the way, which completely deserves its more-or-less permanent residence on the New York Times bestseller list. It out-Mary Karrs Mary Karr! Its closest analog might be Dodie Smith's great, underrated novel I Capture the Castle, which beneath its Gothic veneer is a terrific look at the instinct to survive and thrive even amidst the worst kind of squalor.

Walls' parents are so monstrously self-absorbed and neglectful, so completely lacking in protective instincts, that one almost has to assume their four children's upbringing was some sort of bizarre social experiment. If so, it had a 75 % success rate. The oldest daughter becomes a successful illustrator; Jeannette first becomes a successful celebrity gossip columnist and then goes on to write a mega-bestseller; the only boy becomes a detective in the NYC police department.

There is one casualty: the youngest Walls daughter, Maureen. She gets diagnosed as a schizophrenic, though one suspects what she is really suffering from is severe post-traumatic stress disorder.

I almost want to write a Young Adult novel about the four Walls children, stranded in that ghastly hole in West Virginia with their two brilliant, monstrously self-absorbed parents. A magical Young Adult novel where they find an ancient coin that grants them wishes like the kids in those Edgar Eager novels I devoured last week.

###

I'm also mildly peeved with a guy I've been seeing who's been sending me these emails: Can't wait to get you in bed again! And I'm thinking, Really? Why would he think this would appeal to me more than, Gee, you really are an interesting person with fascinating opinions about "The Glass Castle," and I can't wait to hang out with you again.

Kind of like the courtship phase, dinner, interesting conversations and pleasant activities, ends when you sleep with them. After that, the relationship is about sex.

Sex is okay. But you know what? Sex without love is actually rather boring. I mean, yes, you have orgasms. So what? I can have orgasms with my vibrator. And then I can read!

I've slept with two new guys in the past month, and in both cases it was pleasant enough but I can't imagine that my sexual expertise is really at such a high level that it leaves them gibbering. Yet, gibber they do. I don't know what that's all about.

One guy – not the emailer – actually showed up here unannounced in Poughkeepsie earlier this week.

"Can I come up?" he said glancing eagerly at the ramshackle house where I live.

"Uh – no you can't," I said. "Sorry. My landlady is a Pentecostal minister. She disapproves of gentlemen callers."

"Well, then, can I take you out?"

I was tempted to say, Sorry, I have to wash my hair, but instead I said gently, "Not a good idea."

He scowled. I suppose he saw his behavior as an impulsive, romantic gesture, but I just thought it was stalkerish. Which just kind of verified my initial take that all along, in our respective minds, we'd been starring in two very different types of movie.

Comments

[robby.livejournal.com]

I like the drawings, good luck with the comic book (graphic novel ;), I don't remember you mentioning it earlier.

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I don't write as often as I used to. Don't have the time!

My new Recruitment Strategy -- since Poughkeepsie High School, for various reasons, is in a lockdown to outside organizations right now so we can't recruit through the school -- is to use various community agencies that deal with so-called "disadvantaged youth" as first line recruiters. Get the folk at Dutchess County Youth Services, for example, to identify kids they think might benefit from what we do and have them tell the kids about us. They then give these kids our comic book -- crammed with upbeat propaganda! I figure maybe one out of every ten kids who reads the comic book might give us a call.

What I'm specifically looking for is smart kids that don't do well in school. The corner boys in The Wire. :-)

[fuzzilla.livejournal.com]

I'd read that proposed Young Adult novel.

The "pop-in" dude probably wouldn't have been so off-putting if he'd at least texted or called first to give you some say in the matter. The "pop in" was a recent subject of discussion on a dating advice blog I read.

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

The "pop-in" dude probably wouldn't have been so off-putting if he'd at least texted or called first

Honestly, I don't know. I do know I have major intimacy issues, and now that I've been out of a relationship for four years, I'm feeling less and less as though I really want to be in a relationship -- although I liked being married a lot. I had a good time with this guy, and probably would have called him up in a week or two. It was so weird seeing im standing on my porch, though, that I don't know if I will now.

[ch.livejournal.com]

those are your drawings!? awesome. hope you get your funding.

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Thanks! I hope so too.

[bel-ebat.livejournal.com]

Out-Mary Karrs Mary Karr??? I have to read it.

I HATE when men (or anyone, to be fair) think the best way to appeal to me is by focusing on my sexuality, or even my appearance (or a mixture of the two). IT IS SO BORING! Even when you're in love, or in and out of love, or have been in love, I think it's best reduced to incredibly beautiful and seductive but brief sentences. It can pass for romance and intrigue and sexy then, and it can actually even be great. Other than that it's a huge snooze.

Recently I talked about it with a friend and he asked what appeals to me the most instead. I said, "Appealing to my soul, liking the observational details of who I am." I'll admit that is a ridiculous answer in a different way.

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Walls isn't the poet that Karr is. Her style is very deadpan. I think this is a deliberate choice -- what she writes about is so bizarre that embellishing the text in any way would subtract from what she's describing. She's held hostage to this monstrous level of parental neglect, and she writes about it from the perspective of a bright kid who doesn't really understand what's happening to her. Much of the early part of the book is laugh-out-loud funny. It stopsbeing funny as she gets older and begins to understand what's happening to her.

I'd be very interested in hearing your reaction.

IT IS SO BORING!

Yeah, I mean for reference, read Gringo's remarks below. Of course, he's a male of my generation. The males of your generation are generally more enlightened. :-)

[gringo-in-tj.livejournal.com]

Yes, I am very unenlightened because of my age. Young boys are so much better at understanding how women think sex is SO BORING.

[bel-ebat.livejournal.com]

I would never say sex itself is boring! It's talking about sex that can be boring.

Someone talking to you about past sex you've had, or how you are sexually, as a main topic of conversation can be boring. It would be the same if the main topic of conversation were how smart you are, or focused on any other one characteristic. A compliment here and there is always beautiful, but hyper-focus on any one thing about me as a person all the time makes me feel like everything else is being left out.

And of course, talking about sex as foreplay can also be fun. It can also be one of the only ways to keep up a long-distance relationship (which I've done and enjoyed). I do think you have to be especially sexually compatible for that, though (which a lot of people are not).

[gringo-in-tj.livejournal.com]

My comment was a sardonic response to her claim that a 52-year old man is not enlightened while men of your generation (whatever that means, no idea how old you are) seem to be enlightened. This is a very broad statement by my internet pal (who I very much admire). We've never met in person, and I don't write much detail about my relationships. Not sure she knows much about me in that sense.

Sexuality is a very important aspect of not only relationships but of people in general. It doesn't necessarily revolve around intercourse. Sexuality can be anything from how a person cooks or eats to how they converse with others. How they light a cigarette, how they drink a beer, how they read a book. It isn't necessarily how they screw.

Talking about sex isn't boring unless the person you're talking about sex with is boring. I think that's a very important point. It isn't to say that with some people you enjoy talking about rugby but you don't enjoy talking about sex. This happens. But then, wouldn't that just be your rugby pal and not a love interest?

But mostly, just that because the guy shows up at her house doesn't imply that it's ONLY sex. And while the emailer doesn't seem to have very good social skills, there could be aspects of "bed" that aren't entirely about copulation. If you ever find yourself in a situation to talk to a prostitute in an environment where they'll talk about their job, they will enlighten you to something that most women I've met fail to understand about men. Men in relationships who frequent prostitutes don't do so just for the sex. They are often talkers. They enjoy communicating with a woman who won't judge them or dismiss them and their words, and they are willing to pay for it.

Intimacy has more definitions than does sexuality. I do not orgasm during sexual intercourse (or any other sexual activity) more often than I do orgasm. It isn't that I don't enjoy a good climax (who doesn't), but I love intimacy. I don't want it to end. And the vocal aspect of it is thrilling. I love talking about sex as much as I love talking about baseball or Bukowski or anything else. But it's about intimacy. Communication is intimate. Some men may not be self-conscious enough to realize this, but their actions show it.

[bel-ebat.livejournal.com]

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt the thread! I just wanted to make a point, as I was the one originally immature enough to write "SO BORING" in caps and have it quoted back twice.

Your points re intimacy are all good.

Also, the thing about prostitutes is especially interesting, because men do it regularly with younger women period. I figured out a formula for it, because it's happened to me enough (though I've never purposefully set out for it as I hate anything like that): expensive restaurant bar or hotel bar (but restaurant is better), two much younger women, one much older man who is alone after work.

Among several of my friends, I'm known as being the one they go out with who gets them a free meal and drinks. Why? Because a lonely, much older man (almost) always sits next to us and at some point talks to us about his entire life (including his wife and kids at home, his career, the whimsical thing he actually wanted to do with his life, guilt involving family and personal relationships—the kid who no longer speaks to him, problems in his marriage, things he misses from his past relationship with his wife, etc), and we listen.

They rarely try to push beyond that towards anything sexual (though they will ask if we have boyfriends, etc—normal questions). They just want to feel listened to, un-judged, and then appreciated (which is why they often leave before us but give the bartender or server instructions to take care of us on their check).

I have a soft spot for that kind of loneliness, even if I'm sure I never truly understand it and I never see or talk to them again.

[gringo-in-tj.livejournal.com]

You are SO not interrupting a thread, you have nothing to apologize for. We're chatting about sexuality and intimacy and so on, and I think that's so important.

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Ah, yes. It's the Death In Venice scenario. :-)

The operative question here, suppose, is would you listen to the older man if he was not buying dinner and drinks for you and your friends?

I wouldn't have.

Or rather, maybe I would have the first couple of times, but by the third time, I would politely and compassionately but firmly tell him to buzz off.

[bel-ebat.livejournal.com]

I had to think about this a little bit, but I think my answer is also no.

Barring some tremendous intrigue from the get-go, I would probably feel anxious and put out by it. In fact, I DID feel anxious about it the first time it ever happened to me, but then the pattern was set that these men would talk for a set amount of time, feel better about themselves, pick up our check and leave. So I suppose it stopped surprising me or putting me on guard.

If it kept happening to me with no check pick-up, I'd be much more likely to think—Get a therapist, dude!

A big reason I'm open to it at all, though, is that I'd much rather listen to a stranger talk to me about their lives (I will almost always listen) than have a stranger ask me about my life. There's a time cut-off, though, because otherwise it would just overload me.

[bel-ebat.livejournal.com]

And, of course--we are all here because we love Patrizia!

[gringo-in-tj.livejournal.com]

She is a very awesome friend.

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

I feel the same way about you! :-)

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Awwww. :-) I love you too!!! :-)

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

If you ever find yourself in a situation to talk to a prostitute in an environment where they'll talk about their job, they will enlighten you to something that most women I've met fail to understand about men.

Right. But why are the women doing it?

For money.

The reason these women aren't dismissing them and their words is because they're being paid not to. (My guess, by the way, is that they are judging them though not to their faces since that might interfere with the cash flow.)

I get what you're saying about talking about sex though.

I suppose what made me squeamish about the two interactions described above is what I can only describe as the objectification process: I'm no longer me, I'm some sort of sexual fantasy cum conquest. This works when both partners are into the fantasy, but for various reasons, these days I really have to trust people to be into that fantasy. And these are both men I met on a popular Internet Dating Site so I really haven't known them long enough to trust them.

I do know a little bit about yr relationships, actually since we're also friends in that other cyber-universe. :-) I don't want to allude to them here since I respect your privacy so I'll only note that you've known the person you're with now for a very long time so trust there is not an issue.

Sexual objectification was a major problem for me when I was younger because well into my 40s, I looked like a more slatternly version of Sophia Loren. :-) Itis one of my hot buttons, no doubt about it. :-)

[gringo-in-tj.livejournal.com]

Prostitutes do get paid for it, that's the other side of the coin, I suppose. My point was that many men seem to seek something other than raw sex. I didn't know that you met these gentlemen through a dating site, and that probably does make a difference.

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

Hyper-focus, yes. Bingo.

[bel-ebat.livejournal.com]

I will check the book out. :)

[gringo-in-tj.livejournal.com]

Oh no, you don't get away with this so easily. If the sex was pedestrian, then he wasn't much fun, but I've never met a woman of interest that didn't love knowing she was wanted sexually. CERTAINLY, the combination of love and sex is amazingly fantastic but if a man tells her that he loves her mind, heart, and soul, then she wonders if her breasts are big enough or her thighs are too fat. I expect that conversely, if all he compliments is the sex then that's not the most appealing thing ever, but of ALL PEOPLE you know that it's both and the combination of both.

To point, the guy was probably trying to appeal to the side of you where he felt you would be more flattered. Pretty obvious you're smart and have tons of depth. As to the sex, I couldn't say, but that was his perception as to what you would most respond to. I tell Elaine she's smart and she waves her hand like I don't know what I'm talking about. I tell her she's sexy and she does the same. But she responds to sexy more than to smart. He took a shot on that side of you.

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

I've never met a woman of interest that didn't love knowing she was wanted sexually

It would be presumptuous of me to speak to your experience. :-)

I will say,though,that while I've never been a big John Lennon fan, his song Woman Is the Nigger of the World is spot on. For many years, African Americans among themselves put a high premium on light skin. In much the same way, many women of our generation -- you and I are roughly the same age -- still give a shit whether men find them sexually attractive.

Interestingly, though fewer and fewer of these women actually want to have sex.

An interesting conundrum.

The sex with this guy was fine. It occurred as part of a larger context, which I enjoyed. The relationship in his mind now would appear to be all about sex, which is just plain boring.

[gringo-in-tj.livejournal.com]

Then don't have any more sex! You know, if sex is just copulation and/or orgasms, then I don't blame you. The larger context is that there is this dance that we do and even if sex is the conclusion of the dance, then what a dance. Sexuality defines us, whether we like it or not. And I'm not so sure that's a bad thing.

the glass castle

[crookedfingers.livejournal.com]

I have in my library that memoir "The Glass Castle" by Walls. I have not read this memoir. I am always on the look out for good memoirs, this one looked interesting so brought home from a used book store. I read memoirs all the time. I recently read a memoir titled, "Things I Didn't Know" by Robert Hughes. I really enjoyed this memoir and I recommend it highly. Robert Hughes wrote about Art among other things. I have in my study to read Hughes book on Rome Italy.

Have a good week.

Re: the glass castle

[mallorys-camera.livejournal.com]

I think you might enjoy reading The Glass Castle.

As someone who had a singularly horrifying childhood myself, I certainly enjoyed reading it. I won't say it was cathartic. But it was... interesting, particularly because Walls leaves the impression that she's forgiven her parents. I certainly haven't and will never forgive mine.

Re: the glass castle

[crookedfingers.livejournal.com]

I also had a horrible childhood. There is no one to forgive. I never knew my birth father and my mother was killed in a car wreck when I was 16 years old. Somethings can never be changed. You always live with pain. The Lord gives grace.

[patty1943.livejournal.com]

Change Me Into Zeus' Daughter
Even Dogs Go Home to Die
It's All Over but the Shouting
All three of which are memoirs about living with a father who has combat PTSD, but none of them knew it when they wrote the books and maybe still don't. The Glass Castle is not so bad.

[fasterpussycat.livejournal.com]

I quite enjoyed that memoir as well