I read a blog post recently where the author listed things they liked. My first reaction was “how lazy”, but the list was meaningful, and revealed a lot about the writer. I’d like to do a list in that vein.
Some of my favorite things:
- The smell of my father’s trumpet case
- Sending cards and letters
- Getting cards and letters
- Discovering new poetry
- The Strike’s “Shots Heard ’round The World” album
- The smell of cocoa butter, but not the feel
- The Simpsons
- The smell of soil
- The Amazing Adventures Of Kavalier And Klay
- Snow Leopards
- Paul Beatty’s “Tuff”
- Flash fiction
- Salmon, kale, and sweet potato
- Finishing writing a story
- Bossa Nova
- xerox machine smell
- new socks
- serving food
- sharpening pencils with a knife
- professional wrestling
- Beauty and the Beast
- breaking thin ice on frozen puddles
- Teaching Brazilian Jiu Jitsu
- Being 35
I went to a spoken word/poetry event. We proposed and voted on a theme for the next week’s event. The theme was: “Random things that make me emotional.”
Because of real life, I knew I wouldn’t be able to make it 2 weeks in a row, but I liked he prompt. I decided to do a freewheeling prose listicle, or what non-writers call a list.
- Ive only ever had 1 panic attack, which was in the drive in of a Panda Express in Hampton, Virginia. My family was changing their orders as I was speaking to a young lady through a surprisingly busted-ass intercom for a brand new building. She misheard everything I said, and tried to upset each item to a combo. The din battered my ears like deep turquoise waves pounding craggs at a Scottish shore. I clenched my jaw tight. I didn’t want eggrolls anymore, I just want the moment to end. My heartbeat rattled my eyes like a Muppet’s, back in the day when muppeteers lived on uppers and downers. I said “nope nope nope nope, I gotta get outta here”, and stomped the accelerator, blasting the pre-owned Mazda 5 out of the drive through.
- Epic arrangements of songs-I saw a Black marching band do Jr. Gong’s “Welcome To Jamrock” and it made me tear up, back before I lost the ability to cry. It was like a mega-dose of goosebumps.
- When Mufasa dies. Everytime. Damn. Every damn time.
- Racism. “Emotional” doesn’t just mean “sad”. Intolerance-based hate in general, but definitely racism.
- Baby laughter.
Thread for giant buttons
3 pairs pre-creased moccasins
Garland of frankfurters
Seltzer water bottle (to be employed as weapon)
Emergency tranquilizers (for Donald)
Magnum ear candles
Maybe a shirt?
Pluto’s shiny eyelid balm
Ragtime tunes for leisurely whistlin’, Revised and expanded for 2016 edition