Soap is something I enjoy. I often like to put a record on and hold a fresh bar of soap, unused. I keep a bar of soap just for such an occasion. Its like a cigarette or a night cap. I come home from work and I draw the curtains and put on a record. Sitting in an easy chair, with the crackle of the needle on vinyl lacing the sounds of some jazz, I hold the bar to my nose, clinching it tightly with both hands. I like to close my eyes, inhale the fragrance and then let the air flood back out my nose, my lips tightly pursed.
Any ordinary soap will do, just something you can buy for a dollar and a quarter at a grocery store. Its not like I idolize it like a drug. I don't run in the store and by a quart of milk and a bar of soap, run to my car, race home, leave the milk on the table (unrefrigerated) and rip into the packaging like its a fix. Its like a child's blanket when they keep it for familiarity in adolescents. Its not obsessive, just comforting.
Also my wife never wore perfume, she was just clean. She didn't necessarily use the same soap, she just smelled like soap so I guess when she died...
She used to come home, draw our red curtains closed and turn on a table lamp. The lighting and the curtains made our living room feel like an intimate theater where our love story was a gentle, subtle, and thoroughly enjoyable production. She liked to shower in the afternoon, so when I came home from work and before we started cooking dinner, she would greet me, smelling clean...like soap. We always cooked together. We couldn't have children, so we were never type cast in the productions of our home. You know, her as the apron wearing domesticess and I as the autonomous patriarch. It was a small production, done in the round, with two supporting actors, no lead.
Soap can be nice, just to hold, waxy in your palm, calming in your senses.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
How I Freed Hadleyburg
A Mash-up of Twain and Salinger, RIP J.D.
The sun is rising, which wakes me up every morning. That’s one thing I don’t like about this place, no blinds. But its been nice to be here and relax after all that crazy stuff a few Christmas‘ ago. I like it because I love to tell people my story and all that bull shit. Half the time I love to just make crap up, because people will buy it, I’m a terrific liar. I meet with this guy Dr. Jones everyday. I respect him well enough, so I tell him what I really think. What a cliché name, Dr. Jones. We sit in his office and discuss the town I’m from and my parents and stuff. I guess you probably want to know too.
Well I grew up in this crappy little town named Hadleyburg. It’s supposed to be the most honest community that ever was, the most incorruptible town. The neighboring towns were all jealous, or at least that’s what everyone in Hadleyburg says. It was supposed to be that wherever you went, if you were from Hadleyburg that was plenty good enough to get you a job because of the reputation. But when I got outside, nobody batted an eye when I told them where I’m from.
Well you probably aren’t wondering why I left, you can see I wasn’t exactly impressed with the place, but how I left is the terrific part. Well here’s the story, when I was fourteen I got in some trouble. I was in Catholic school at the time, 8th grade. I was one of the older kids in my class. Well one day we were reading this story by Hemingway, I forget what its called but it was some metaphorical crap about elephants. Nobody ever actually said anything in the whole damn story. Seriously, no one said anything, I never knew what the hell was going on. But anyways, the teacher tells us, “You see the woman in the story is pregnant and she and her companion are discussing whether or not to get an abortion.”
Well, I couldn’t believe this. First of all the woman in the story had been sucking down cocktails the whole time and its only like four pages! I didn’t buy it because they never mentioned it, but I guess that’s the point, its genius because they never mention it. So I raised my hand and gave the teacher a real hard time about it. “Why is the woman drinking like a fish?”, “Why isn’t this guy her husband, she‘s pregnant?” The guy in the story was a real piece of work too, he just kept on letting her drink, the young pregnant woman, only concerned with himself. Not that I really cared morally, about them having a kid without being married, I just wanted to know why the hell a Catholic school wanted me to be impressed with some story about premarital sex and pregnant people boozing so much.
I’m not Catholic, my parents went to Reverend Burgess’ church, but they sent me to Catholic school in the next town for the education. I raised a lot of hell about it and it got to the point where I just walked out. Everyone in town knew about it. They were so appalled someone would challenge this, I guess they just couldn’t see what I see. The people of Hadleyburg were so embarrassed I had misrepresented the reputation. It’s a phony place, phonies walking around everywhere, shallow as hell. I had already been in trouble before, one time I took all my mother’s soap and flooded the town’s fountain. Boy old Hadleyburg thought it was the next Pearl Harbor. Not so much the actual prank, as much as “how dare you make our town look vulnerable.” The whole town pissed me
off, but I got outta there at 14. I got sent to a boarding school in upstate New York. I went to a couple and I got kicked out of all of them. My parents and Phoebe, my sister, moved to New York City once I did that.
Well I’ve had a lot of time to think about all that, being Dr. Jones asks me about it everyday. I’ve forgiven Pencey, that’s the last school I was at. Boy they pissed me off too, the whole place is tall guys with greasy hair and navy blue blazers they bought at Sears walking around with their goddam cocky smiles. But I keep thinking about that damn Hadleyburg and I know what I want to do about it.
I’m not angry, I don’t have some exacted revenge to destroy the town. I know I’m smarter than that. I’ve thought a lot about it and I have the perfect way to expose the real Hadleyburg. I’m gonna be doing them a damn favor, they’ll be a hell of a lot freer without having to walk around with their phony reputation that nobody outside the town gives a shit about.
See today’s my last day here, right after I get done cleaning up and saying my goodbyes I’m headed to Hadleyburg. I have to say goodbye, every time I left a school I made sure to say my goodbyes to get closure, even though most of the time I didn’t even like the people. I already stripped down my sheets and collected my toiletries so I just have to turn it in to get my belongings back. First I think I’ll go say goodbye to Dr. Jones though, he’s really the only person I was close to here. I knew the janitor, Alan, but not much more than “hello” and “how’s it going.”
Dr. Jones’ office is down at the far southeast end and my room was in at the northwest corner so I had to walk all the way down there with all my goddam sheets and toiletries. I got to his office and he wasn’t there. There was a little clock on the door, one of those adjustable ones with a smiley face on it telling you when they’ll return. It said he’d be back at 11:30 and it was 11:10 so I just sat there with my sheets, in front of his door. I dozed off on top the pile and was awoken by Dr. Jones’ voice, “Holden, how’s it going, leaving us today eh?”
“Yes sir Dr. Jones, just came down to say goodbye.”
“Well come on in and have a seat. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“No thanks,” I said. He asked me that every time, and I must have told him a hundred times I don’t like drinking coffee, but it never sunk in. I guess you don’t have to have a great memory to be a shrink. We shot the shit for a few minutes, shook hands and I headed down the main hallway to the office at the north exit.
“Holden Caulfield?” said the man behind the counter.
“That I am,” I responded and after exchanging my sheets for my belongings and signing a few papers I headed out. I hadn’t been outside there for a little over three years. I love when people get out of a place like that, in books and such, they always make it sound like the sun burns their eyes from the shock of returning to the outside world. But its not like we never saw daylight. I tell you what though, the fresh air was nice.
My brother D.B. is out in Hollywood. He’s a writer and makes a load of cash. He sent me some money to get on my feet, a lot of money to be exact. I didn’t use it for me though, I needed it for my plan with Hadleyburg.
I hopped on a train there, it took about four and a half hours. Next to me was this women who was probably fifty-five, no wedding ring. She seemed to be a little out of it, but thought she was the sharpest thing around. She asked where I was traveling and I told her Hadleyburg. “I’m visiting my grandparents, I’m a stock broker from New York City.” She asked me all kinds of crap about working in financial services and I lied the hell out of her. It helped me pass the time.
I got to the town next to Hadleyburg, where the train station was and I walked about a mile to get there. I only had a knapsack so it wasn’t hard. I knew the town would not remember me, they’re so damn anxious about their reputation they couldn’t possibly have time to explore a strangers face to find some familiarity. My Catholic school teacher was Mrs. Richards. She was a nice woman, it was her naivety that pissed me off, she wouldn’t even discuss that story with me. I felt sorta bad making her the center of my joke, but I just knew the irony was too good to pass up.
I knocked on her door and of course she didn’t recognize me. I told her I was from the U.K. and I was heading back. I fed her some bull about loving America’s open arms and the people were so good, including Reverend Burgess. I gave her D.B.’s money in a small parcel and told her to give the note to her husband. Mr. Richards was the one who caught me putting soap in the fountain, he grabbed me by the neck and practically strangled me with anger. He was pretty damn nice to me after that, could you imagine if honest Hadleyburg knew one of its citizens, in a fit of anger strangled a thirteen year old?
I made up a story that a stranger had loaned me money and I wanted to now pay him back because I had used it to amount a large gambling fortune. It was all bull and I knew the town, once they knew about the story and they would, it‘d spread like wildfire. Its such a small, bored town, there’s no way they could resist gossiping about it and of course each of them would have their mind tickled by the opportunities the money offered. None of them were ever actually upright and honest, sure some people long ago made Hadleyburg a good place. But now people are just so pretentious and phony, their humanity would over take them.
I had to leave the town after dropping the money off with Mrs. Richards, but I know how things worked out, I mean I can guess, I know the town too well. And that’s how I freed Hadleyburg. I know now everybody can stop being so uptight and just be real, tell each other what they really think, because they all would eventually be exposed for trying to claim the money. I’m sure its funny to watch people tell each other how shitty they really think the other is, but its how it oughta be, honest and human. It was quite redeeming for me, I’ve been so pissed off my whole life with everybody being so phony, now I could do something about it.
The sun is rising, which wakes me up every morning. That’s one thing I don’t like about this place, no blinds. But its been nice to be here and relax after all that crazy stuff a few Christmas‘ ago. I like it because I love to tell people my story and all that bull shit. Half the time I love to just make crap up, because people will buy it, I’m a terrific liar. I meet with this guy Dr. Jones everyday. I respect him well enough, so I tell him what I really think. What a cliché name, Dr. Jones. We sit in his office and discuss the town I’m from and my parents and stuff. I guess you probably want to know too.
Well I grew up in this crappy little town named Hadleyburg. It’s supposed to be the most honest community that ever was, the most incorruptible town. The neighboring towns were all jealous, or at least that’s what everyone in Hadleyburg says. It was supposed to be that wherever you went, if you were from Hadleyburg that was plenty good enough to get you a job because of the reputation. But when I got outside, nobody batted an eye when I told them where I’m from.
Well you probably aren’t wondering why I left, you can see I wasn’t exactly impressed with the place, but how I left is the terrific part. Well here’s the story, when I was fourteen I got in some trouble. I was in Catholic school at the time, 8th grade. I was one of the older kids in my class. Well one day we were reading this story by Hemingway, I forget what its called but it was some metaphorical crap about elephants. Nobody ever actually said anything in the whole damn story. Seriously, no one said anything, I never knew what the hell was going on. But anyways, the teacher tells us, “You see the woman in the story is pregnant and she and her companion are discussing whether or not to get an abortion.”
Well, I couldn’t believe this. First of all the woman in the story had been sucking down cocktails the whole time and its only like four pages! I didn’t buy it because they never mentioned it, but I guess that’s the point, its genius because they never mention it. So I raised my hand and gave the teacher a real hard time about it. “Why is the woman drinking like a fish?”, “Why isn’t this guy her husband, she‘s pregnant?” The guy in the story was a real piece of work too, he just kept on letting her drink, the young pregnant woman, only concerned with himself. Not that I really cared morally, about them having a kid without being married, I just wanted to know why the hell a Catholic school wanted me to be impressed with some story about premarital sex and pregnant people boozing so much.
I’m not Catholic, my parents went to Reverend Burgess’ church, but they sent me to Catholic school in the next town for the education. I raised a lot of hell about it and it got to the point where I just walked out. Everyone in town knew about it. They were so appalled someone would challenge this, I guess they just couldn’t see what I see. The people of Hadleyburg were so embarrassed I had misrepresented the reputation. It’s a phony place, phonies walking around everywhere, shallow as hell. I had already been in trouble before, one time I took all my mother’s soap and flooded the town’s fountain. Boy old Hadleyburg thought it was the next Pearl Harbor. Not so much the actual prank, as much as “how dare you make our town look vulnerable.” The whole town pissed me
off, but I got outta there at 14. I got sent to a boarding school in upstate New York. I went to a couple and I got kicked out of all of them. My parents and Phoebe, my sister, moved to New York City once I did that.
Well I’ve had a lot of time to think about all that, being Dr. Jones asks me about it everyday. I’ve forgiven Pencey, that’s the last school I was at. Boy they pissed me off too, the whole place is tall guys with greasy hair and navy blue blazers they bought at Sears walking around with their goddam cocky smiles. But I keep thinking about that damn Hadleyburg and I know what I want to do about it.
I’m not angry, I don’t have some exacted revenge to destroy the town. I know I’m smarter than that. I’ve thought a lot about it and I have the perfect way to expose the real Hadleyburg. I’m gonna be doing them a damn favor, they’ll be a hell of a lot freer without having to walk around with their phony reputation that nobody outside the town gives a shit about.
See today’s my last day here, right after I get done cleaning up and saying my goodbyes I’m headed to Hadleyburg. I have to say goodbye, every time I left a school I made sure to say my goodbyes to get closure, even though most of the time I didn’t even like the people. I already stripped down my sheets and collected my toiletries so I just have to turn it in to get my belongings back. First I think I’ll go say goodbye to Dr. Jones though, he’s really the only person I was close to here. I knew the janitor, Alan, but not much more than “hello” and “how’s it going.”
Dr. Jones’ office is down at the far southeast end and my room was in at the northwest corner so I had to walk all the way down there with all my goddam sheets and toiletries. I got to his office and he wasn’t there. There was a little clock on the door, one of those adjustable ones with a smiley face on it telling you when they’ll return. It said he’d be back at 11:30 and it was 11:10 so I just sat there with my sheets, in front of his door. I dozed off on top the pile and was awoken by Dr. Jones’ voice, “Holden, how’s it going, leaving us today eh?”
“Yes sir Dr. Jones, just came down to say goodbye.”
“Well come on in and have a seat. Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“No thanks,” I said. He asked me that every time, and I must have told him a hundred times I don’t like drinking coffee, but it never sunk in. I guess you don’t have to have a great memory to be a shrink. We shot the shit for a few minutes, shook hands and I headed down the main hallway to the office at the north exit.
“Holden Caulfield?” said the man behind the counter.
“That I am,” I responded and after exchanging my sheets for my belongings and signing a few papers I headed out. I hadn’t been outside there for a little over three years. I love when people get out of a place like that, in books and such, they always make it sound like the sun burns their eyes from the shock of returning to the outside world. But its not like we never saw daylight. I tell you what though, the fresh air was nice.
My brother D.B. is out in Hollywood. He’s a writer and makes a load of cash. He sent me some money to get on my feet, a lot of money to be exact. I didn’t use it for me though, I needed it for my plan with Hadleyburg.
I hopped on a train there, it took about four and a half hours. Next to me was this women who was probably fifty-five, no wedding ring. She seemed to be a little out of it, but thought she was the sharpest thing around. She asked where I was traveling and I told her Hadleyburg. “I’m visiting my grandparents, I’m a stock broker from New York City.” She asked me all kinds of crap about working in financial services and I lied the hell out of her. It helped me pass the time.
I got to the town next to Hadleyburg, where the train station was and I walked about a mile to get there. I only had a knapsack so it wasn’t hard. I knew the town would not remember me, they’re so damn anxious about their reputation they couldn’t possibly have time to explore a strangers face to find some familiarity. My Catholic school teacher was Mrs. Richards. She was a nice woman, it was her naivety that pissed me off, she wouldn’t even discuss that story with me. I felt sorta bad making her the center of my joke, but I just knew the irony was too good to pass up.
I knocked on her door and of course she didn’t recognize me. I told her I was from the U.K. and I was heading back. I fed her some bull about loving America’s open arms and the people were so good, including Reverend Burgess. I gave her D.B.’s money in a small parcel and told her to give the note to her husband. Mr. Richards was the one who caught me putting soap in the fountain, he grabbed me by the neck and practically strangled me with anger. He was pretty damn nice to me after that, could you imagine if honest Hadleyburg knew one of its citizens, in a fit of anger strangled a thirteen year old?
I made up a story that a stranger had loaned me money and I wanted to now pay him back because I had used it to amount a large gambling fortune. It was all bull and I knew the town, once they knew about the story and they would, it‘d spread like wildfire. Its such a small, bored town, there’s no way they could resist gossiping about it and of course each of them would have their mind tickled by the opportunities the money offered. None of them were ever actually upright and honest, sure some people long ago made Hadleyburg a good place. But now people are just so pretentious and phony, their humanity would over take them.
I had to leave the town after dropping the money off with Mrs. Richards, but I know how things worked out, I mean I can guess, I know the town too well. And that’s how I freed Hadleyburg. I know now everybody can stop being so uptight and just be real, tell each other what they really think, because they all would eventually be exposed for trying to claim the money. I’m sure its funny to watch people tell each other how shitty they really think the other is, but its how it oughta be, honest and human. It was quite redeeming for me, I’ve been so pissed off my whole life with everybody being so phony, now I could do something about it.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Not A Building Letter
August 31st, 2009
To the leaders of the local church,
We are a group of young Christian activists known as Peacemaker Revolution. We are rooted in three houses in Winston-Salem, NC. We meet in our homes to read the Bible, coordinate feeding the hungry, and connecting members of different churches across our city. We are writing you to stimulate awareness of how we feel about the American Church and our generation. We live the way we do because it is a compelling avenue to exercise Christianity in our time and place. We are calling this campaign “You don’t call your house your family, why is your church a building?”
We believe in the local church. We think the local church is a pivotal organizer of people to provide Jesus’ love to its neighborhoods and the conduit for his claim that his people will do greater things than he.[1] We also see troubling things in our country where the building, the institution, the organization, and the maintenance of these things is more consuming of time and resources than the actual serving of and service by the people.
Our group is committed to the feeding of the hungry, providing the most elementary medical care, loving the disenfranchised, and healing the flagrant racial divide of our city, because more than anything these are the most literal manifestations of the Gospel love Jesus calls us to. Our choice is to be in our churches, participating in those communities, not breaking off to construct more hedges and alienating ourselves from other generations and people different from ourselves.
As a group of young people who participate in six different churches across six different denominations on any given weekend, we want to make a few things clear to the generation leading us. We are not compelled to participate in a body because of its music, its building, its marketing, or its programs, nor do we believe the non-believing communities of our city are compelled by these initiatives. We are not deep with wisdom or experience, but we do live in the trenches of the art scene, the college and post-collegiate arenas, and we see people longing not for a well-oiled organization or an attractive worship space, but a gospel lived out. For our campaign, we are asking your church for three things.
First, to visit our website, www.peacemakerrevolution.org and sign our pledge to foster a church whose identity is a community of people with the purpose of love as an alternative to creating a centralized structure. Second, to visit our site over the next month to read articles by our community and other people living like us around the country in the context of these ideas. While we do not have it all figured out, we hope you can see what young people are thinking and feeling. Third, we would like to connect with your church and find out how we can participate in what you are doing or help encourage intentional community within your body since we see the local church as the most important catalyst of what Jesus clearly calls us to, love through compassion, mercy, and justice in our city. These are not just words for us, we are invigorated to participate. Please allow us to connect with your leaders over a cup of coffee, have the opportunity to brain storm with your community, and please invite us to participate in what your church is doing to live out the Gospel.
Thank you and God bless,
Austin Pfeiffer and PeacemakerRevolution.org
[1] John 14:12
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