Keeping Rowan, I wonder how
Mother raised two kids by herself
during World War II. She had an allotment.
Grandma Nordhem, a divorcée, helped her.
But my other grandparents, Grandma and Pop Cason,
expected her to help them, not vice versa. As Merle Haggard said,
when it comes to raising children, it’s a job meant for two.
Other service wives had men overseas. In fact, it was the norm,
rather than the exception. I guess her situation gave her moral support.
She had to do it. It was that or be sorry, and there was peer pressure
not to let the middle class down. The middle class had an obligation.
They had inherited a tradition. It’s tough to go against
your own upbringing. Your teammates’ expectations.
We do what we’re programmed to, mostly.
How did I escape that? Did they raise me
different? Were they more enlightened?
Was I atypical? Did I have something
wrong with me? What made me
identify with Thoreau, who repented of
his good behavior. Who saw his neighbors
as strangers. Too much reading.
I was a bookworm.
Books are dangerous.
That’s why they’re banned.
I read banned books and sometimes
I write them. In fact, my entire oeuvre has been
suppressed by
My oeuvre complète was left to self-published
pamphlets and the Internet. Monk said
you have to be strong in your mind to go it alone.
I didn’t do it by myself. I had my wife and kids.
And before that my parents. Even my grandparents.
How did the way they were help me?
They took unpopular stands. My father was
a southern moderate in the transition from
segregation to integration in the community.
In the schools, eventually the churches.
In civic government. He was the mayor.
He was a city councilman. For 30 years.
He taught Sunday School. He was in the church choir.
He loved music. He used to listen to George Shearing.
He loved Broadway shows.
I don’t think he read Waiting for Godot or Rhinoceros.
But I did. Will black people come to my funeral?
I don’t see why anyone would, who didn’t know me.
Relatives and picker friends. Not even co-workers,
since I do not have a job. Maybe a couple
of readers from the Buzzard Cult.
High-one-, low-two-figures.