ERNEST HEMINGWAY

When I first read some of Ernest Hemingway's work I was just a freshman in high school. I was taken by his life story more than his work. I thought that Hemingway was a cool guy, well traveled, and interested in life's grand pursuits. I began to read Hemingway's work more thoroughly and was taken by the very real quality of his characters, larger than life and yet incredibly flawed.

Hemingway was one of those guys that was straight up badass before badass was some stupid classification for punks with big mouths and guns. What I thought was great about Hemingway was the he was a man that believed in living hard and full. I think it's really the nature of writers like Hemingway that made literature in those years so great.

There was no fear, no politically correct bullshit, Hemingway and his contemporaries were all about truth. Hemingway had that unchecked depression which only made him all the more compelling. Mental health was not really considered important in those days so for Hemingway to stay as creative and powerful given his issues only made him a more mythical figure.

Hemingway was also an example of someone who could have benefited from treating his depression. I could only imagine Hemingway writing a book about Vietnam and the love power generation. I wonder what Hemingway and disco would have been like, given that the 70's was the me generation. Sadly none of that happened, we lost a genius and life went on. Still, it's not that bad to think of what might have been every now and then.

MY FIRST HOLIDAY REBELLION

When I was a child I was always relegated to the kid's table in thanksgiving. My aunt would throw a lavish dinner in her apartment on the beach. I remember that I was always given a table in the enclosed balcony. I did not mind sitting at that table because I had an amazing view of the beach. I did have a huge problem with the fact that my dinner consisted of pieces of the turkey that were picked out for me.

I remember clearly that I would get these slices of turkey, perfectly carved and fit for a cat. I always got more salad than I desired and a little skin. I assume that because I was a thin but long kid everyone thought I was not a big eater. I would examine this situation closely before making my move. I had to employ a daring approach that would require a little extra courage and guile. This was my year to make that statement and employ all the tactics I learned watching animated action cartoons.

I was seven years old and the year was 1986, I was going to make a move in order to make my presence felt. I decided to make a move on the fabled drumstick. I remember that particular drumstick was so big, at least to me. I was ready to show I was worthy of a move up from my table of solitude. I paced slowly as the adults spoke of subjects I knew nothing about.

I made a move behind a chair that was not pushed in all the way, and quickly turned and found myself under the table. I saw no legs so I made sure to make a strategic move toward the center, where the turkey sat. I moved to a chair near the turkey and finally made eye to, wait, I looked upon the turkey. I knew that the turkey would be a great challenge and I had to wing it, and quick. I grabbed the drumstick unnoticed and moved on.

When everyone looked at me I was saying a little prayer and toasting my sprite in triumph. Everyone looked in shock and awe, I amazed them all and the following year I would be a proud member of the adult table and allowed to choose my portion of the fabled gobbler. I would look at the kid's table in triumph and mentally hold it up as a sign of victory.