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I am invisible.
My father was invisible.
My sons are invisible.
My brother is invisible.
My other brother, the one who died about 15 years ago, was invisible.
I'm 56, live in a small town outside Omaha, NE. I am considered a 'big man' in town, I've been on the city council for over 10 years. I go to the American Legion every Friday night for dinner and people line up to talk to me. I go for walks in my neighborhood at night and people won't leave me alone.
As I say, I'm invisible.
I've got a painting in my office at home my younger son did for me. It's a portrait of me, taken off an old work ID badge I had laying around. The photo is 20 years old or older. Except for the now-white hair of my head and beard, I look almost exactly the same. I'm looking off to the left of the observer. I've always done that, I have a hard time looking directly in people's eyes when I talk to them. I'll look at their noses, their hair, just about anything but their eyes. Behind me in the painting are a pair of wings, spread out over a mountaintop. The title is "Sisyphus".
I didn't realize other people saw me that way, I thought I was the only one who realized it. But then, I guess that invisible people can see each other fairly well, and as I said, my sons are invisible too.
I'm not hated, or ignored, I should clarify that. None of us are. Our families and friends really do love us, wish us all the best, like having us around. But we're seperate. Not better, not even different, just... apart.
I can't explain it any better than that.
My father was a career alcaholic. Drank himself into oblivion every night of his adult life. When I was old enough, I went with him a few times. He sat there at the end of the bar, drinking silently and watching TV. Once in a while friends of his would talk to him, they'd shoot pool or play darts or sit around and shoot the shit. But he was always apart.
My brother was on that track, but he stopped drinking. Best thing he ever did. Lives a nice quiet life in his house with his girlfriend and her grandkids. Goes to Daytona every year for the race. Works his shift and goes home. Invisible.
My oldest son. It's hard not to shake him sometimes. He seems so dead-set on doing things exactly his way no matter what, no matter what life shows him or tries to stop him. Refuses to take out student loans, so he's stuck going to a community college part-time because that's all he can afford. He's 27, and living at home. He was out for a good long while, but moved back in about a year ago. We just really don't see things the same, and yet there's a lot there that's similar.
He wants to be a writer. I suppose he is a writer, he's writing all the time, and even lets us read some of it. But he never tries to get anything published. He says he doesn't do it to get published. He does it because he has to. Because he can't not write. He's going to end up like Emily Dickinson. One day someone will be cleaning out his house after he's died and find all these stories and poems and plays and essays. And they'll all say, "Well, I knew he wrote a little, but never anything like this!"
My other brother, the baby of the family, died when he was 34. He had a massive heart-attack. Usual reasons, but he was so young. He was invisible. So are his sons.
Is it the family?
My younger son is a painter, as I mentioned. His brother I can somewhat understand, because there are a lot of similarities there. But the youngest, he's just a mystery. And yet we get along very well. Maybe that helps, having absolutely no way of knowing what's going on inside his head. He's not exactly invisible. He's more of a hider, really.
The oldest sons of oldest sons. We try to do what we can, try to do good, try to be people to be proud of. And somewhere along the lines we get lost, and turn to things.
My father, to drink.
Me, to work.
My older son, to religion. He's talked a few times about becoming a priest, or a monk, or something. He reads all the time, and it's always either philosophy or spirituality or something. I think he'd really benefit from the solitude of monastic life. But there's just something about it that makes me think it won't work out quite right.
I tell him all the things my father used to tell me. About going out and making a mark in the world, finding a place. Not ending up ilke me.
Bacchus, the grandfather.
Sisyphus, the father.
Who will the son be? Augustine? Francis of Assissi?
We seem to be progressing, I will say that. I just wonder if there will be a grandson, to further the evolution. Or will it stop with a confused, indecisive, isolationistic monk?
And so I go, pushing the boulder. My son.
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If you can't get what you want, change what it is that you want.
"We're lonely and isolated. We live in hairless bodies without exoskeletons - so fragile even thoughts can hurt us." -- Chilimuffin
In some far off place / Many light years in space / I'll build a world of abstract dreams / And wait for you -- Sun Ra
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Hmmmmm....... I don't know what to think really. Something lies here, much larger than what is said...
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As miserable as life may be I hold it pretty precious...
If I lose the light of the sun, I will write by candlelight, moonlight, no light. If I lose paper and ink, I wil write in blood on forgotten walls. I will write always, I will capture nights all over the world and bring them to you.
Word And Voice
Motocross Fanatics
General Philosophy
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Thanks for posting this, Dano. Well done, though I think I'm not understanding some aspects of the story. Is the name Sisyphus a reference to something else?
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The ninja lesbian milk getter. aka dorkflakes.
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Sisyphus is a man condemned to Hades in Greek mythology. He's forced to roll a huge boulder up a mountain, but it always rolls back down to the bottom and he has to continually start over again.
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If you can't get what you want, change what it is that you want.
"We're lonely and isolated. We live in hairless bodies without exoskeletons - so fragile even thoughts can hurt us." -- Chilimuffin
In some far off place / Many light years in space / I'll build a world of abstract dreams / And wait for you -- Sun Ra
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Wow is really all i can say. Its really well written and very strong. The meaning just pounded into me. I like it I love it I want some more of it.
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Thanks for clarifying, Dano. I understand the story better now.
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The ninja lesbian milk getter. aka dorkflakes.
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