Month: June 2022

  • Short Story Review: “HOUYHNHNM” by André Alexis

    (The short story “HOUYHNHNM” by André Alexis, appeared in the June 20th, 2022 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Vanessa Winship

    (I’ll probably SPOIL it)

    Did you ever have a simple turkey sandwich but for whatever reason, was just amazing? Like, it’s made up of all the same simple ingredients that you have in your house, but somehow the person in the kitchen put it together in a way that somehow was spot on. Man, it’s just a turkey sandwich, but it’s great turkey sandwich.

    I mean no disrespect, but that is exactly what “HOUYHNHNM” by André Alexis was to me. The title of the story is taken from the name of a race of fictional intelligent horses from Gulliver’s Travels. The story is told by the adult son of a well to do but modest doctor who is all scientific logic, and buys a horse. This isn’t his first horse he’s owned, but soon a special bond is formed between the doctor and the horse, to the point where the doctor spends all of his free time with the horse; walking, reading to him, talking to him. It even gets to the point to where the doctor builds the horse a special barn to live in. Suddenly, the doctor passes, and the son takes on the responsibility of caring for the horse, only to find that the horse can speak. The son realizes why his father spent so much time with the animal, and also the son begins to do the same things that his father did when he was attending the horse.

    I used the metaphor of the simple ingredients here because nothing in this story took me by surprise. I knew where it was going, I saw all the pieces, I knew was Alexis was going to build. I knew that with the son now spending time with the horse, he was gaining a deeper understand of who his father was. And when the horse’s decline set in, I also knew that the story was alluding to having a parent who is succumbing to dementia, and the pain that can cause when the loved one soon no longer recognizes you. Even with that said, it was an effective story – honest and authentic. Not a word seemed false or forced. The title of the piece was clearly there to say to the reader that this horse was real, and not a figment of the narrator’s imagination, though, that was the only aspect of the story that I kept expecting to surface, but it never did. And I apricated that dedication to the premise – this is a talking horse story.

    Maybe it’s me. This is a story about losing a parent, and that subject still holds a soft spot in me. But I do think that there is more to this story. Though I did know where this story was going, I experienced a special catharsis in the son gaining a better understanding of his father. That might be a very basic desire of all children after their parents die, and though it might be basic, it is still a wish I hope comes true.

    (Say! If you like what you have read, please like, share, and leave a comment. It would help justify my existence.)

  • English Language Rules

    You know what I am very bad at? Knowing when to use “maybe” and “may be.”

    I suck at grammar. This blog is filled with type-o’s from here till dawn, and until I get an editor, it will continue to function in this improper manner. God bless the people out there who can remember all the rules and know how to follow them. And in the same breath, you can fuck right off all of you people who use grammar as some sort of cudgel to make people feel ignorant and uncultured.

    Sadly, everyone, even really smart grammar-nazi people, has an innate desire to kick someone around to make themselves feel better. I wish people weren’t like that, but we are.

    If grammar people were honest, they would admit that the rules to the English language are arbitrary at best, and change often. Samuel Johnson, who wrote the first English dictionary, wanted to have a manual of the authoritative rules of the English language. Where did he find these rules? He made them up. The rules were based on his preferences, and for almost 300 years we have been following or breaking them ever since.

    As I am sure you can tell, I don’t like people who use the language as some sort of litmus test of a person’s intelligence. Whenever I hear “proper way to speak” or “proper way to write” it is like finger nails on the chalk board. The word “proper” when used in the context of language, is never meant as a signal that one is have difficulty discerning the meaning from the use of the language. No, when “proper” shows up in the contextual discussion of language, it is meant to signify that one use the of the language is “good” and another is “bad.”

    For that reason, I wish the English language, spoken and written, were treated more like a musical instrument that conveys emotion and understanding, regardless of how it is “played.” The sole question that should be ask is only, “Did you understand the intent and render a meaning?” If the answer is yes, then the language was used correctly.

    Maybe if we accepted more understanding, we would have a better understanding.

    (Say! If you like what you have read, please like, share, and leave a comment. It would help justify my existence.)

  • Thoughts on Laundry Day

    Monday is laundry day in our house. We don’t have a washer and dryer in our apartment nor is there one in the building. I have to carry everything a block and a half to the laundromat. I have been doing the laundry since the kid was born, and before that we used to use a wash and fold service.

    Now, I’m the service, and this is my role in the family.

    Yet, when I got up today, I was annoyed that I had to do this errand. Annoyed that I have to spend half my day doing this, when I’d rather be doing everything but laundry.

    Maybe it’s the heat of Summer, maybe I’m getting older and it takes more out of me to do it than it used to. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m forty-five and I still have to go to a laundromat.

    Maybe I’m becoming an angry middle aged man in America. Maybe I’m not the savior of the world, I’m not a rock star, or a genius, or the best at what I do. Maybe I’m just a guy floundering in the middle of the pack.

    Maybe I still don’t know what I’m doing, and now the fear of running out of time is invading my ego, causing me to shirk my responsibilities and run away.

    I’m just not feeling it today.

    (Say! If you like what you have read, please like, share, and leave a comment. It would help justify my existence.)

  • ODDS and ENDS: Field Day, SPF Shirt, AND Oysters and Martinis

    (Whatever gets you through the night)

    I was doing the Alt Side parking this morning, and the spot I found was along the local park, which was a normal place for me to put the car. As I was next to the park, there was a steady stream of people jogging, walking their dogs, and people with babies in strollers. Just a normal Friday morning. And then, a large mass of elementary school kids came walking by, led by teachers, bounding, over joyed and exuberant. The kids had on different colored shirts, and written on the shirts was “FIELD DAY 2022.” It’s Field Day today for these kids, because, you know, they haven’t had a Field Day in two years. I know it’s an old story to talk about the things we have missed out on during the two Covid years, but I had forgotten about Field Days; the most unathletic athletic competitions that a school can host. Just a fun day at school where it felt like we were all getting away with something, like a clandestine free day. I sat in my car listening to the kids laugh, and scream and cheer each other on in hula-hoop, and three leg races.

    I am going to buy a men’s SPF shirt for this summer. The past couple of summers, when we have gone to the beach or a water park, I have gotten some pretty server sunburns. Yes, I have used and reapplied sun screen. Now, when I went looking for a respectable looking SPF shirt, I noticed that all of them are skin tight. If this was 25-year-old me, this wouldn’t be an issue. But 45-year-old me, who likes beer and ice cream, wonders if there is a more loose, casual type of SPF shirt? You know, a SPF shirt that says, “I don’t want to get burned, and I only go out in the sun once a year.”

    It’s my wife’s birthday! Oysters and Martinis for dinner!

    (Say! If you like what you have read, please like, share, and leave a comment. It would help justify my existence.)

  • Learning the Subway

    The kid is off from school today. A teacher in-service or something. She’s getting old enough now that I don’t have to keep an eye on her all the time, nor do I need to keep her entertained endlessly. But I don’t want her sitting around the apartment all day either.

    So, I made her run errands with me. Errands that took us out of the neighborhood. Errands that meant we were going to ride the subway together.

    New York City is not the best place for kids, I admit it. Kids see and hear things maybe they shouldn’t, and it can cause them to grow up a little too soon. But, when that happens, me and the kid have a conversation about what she saw and heard. I mean, that’s the job of being a parent sometimes; talking about uncomfortable stuff. And yes, the subway has lead to a great many conversations.

    And the subway is how the kid will primarily get around in this town. I feel it is my duty as a parent and a transplanted New Yorker, the teacher my child who is a natural born New Yorker, how to use this world famous example of mass transit.

    We started with learning the difference between local and express, followed by what uptown and downtown means. Then we talked about the difference between letter and number local and express trains. Now, we are trying to memorize the stops; 125, 116, 110, 103, 96, 86, 81, 72 and 59. Sure, that’s just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the MTA, but from the kid’s perspective, that’s her world when running around New York.

    I know for her, the City is vast, and these stops really don’t register as distances in relation to being away from home. It’s a little like magic for her. You go underground, get in a train, and come up in a different world, with different places and people. in that sense, NYC can be a pretty wonderful experience for a kid as well.

    (Say! If you like what you have read, please like, share, and leave a comment. It would help justify my existence.)