Hello.
I thought I would try something a little different. It is obvious to me now that I am not the only one reading this. Don’t get me wrong, there has always been more than my set of eyes on, this, whatever we will decide to call it, when all is said and done.
I think it is my Red Book. It is me, showing myself to me, so I can see you and you can see me.
I very much believe in love. I do. I have my own theory on what love is, what it is for, and why it exists.
I do not purport to be an expert. Expert; n. Everyone but you. – Hero’s Dictionary
I realize there are far too many “I” statements already. This is one of the reasons why I eschew writing things of this nature. I am far too self absorbed as it is. Everyone loves to talk about themselves. Sales people know this. Politicians know this. Poets knows this.
Teachers know this. I am a born teacher. I have been doing it since I was a child, in one form or another. I was the kid who read the rules and explained them so the game could start. Just one example.
I taught both my brothers how to play chess. And my best friend. Both my younger brother and my best friend were kicking my ass within a couple months.
I couldn’t figure out why for a long time (I was still a kid, so I don’t beat myself up about it) until it dawned on me. They were kicking my ass because I taught them how to kick my ass. I didn’t just teach them how to play chess. I taught them how I play chess. They knew my moves and saw the game with beginner’s eyes. I fell like a prom dress on midnight.
There is a valuable lesson in this with a nimiety of applications.
As a reader, I have tried to let others inform not only the way I write but perceive the world.
As a writer, I am trying to let others perceive the world in a way that first of all entertains (otherwise nothing else can occur) but also informs. This is tricky. People don’t like to be preached at. I am still learning.
I mentioned a long time ago way back on this, my Red Book, that I left my childhood home on my 18th birthday. And by left I mean kicked out. My mother gave me 6 years of warning that this would occur, that I did not take her seriously was denial on my part as it was always clear she meant it.
It was a weird kind of circularity – I kicked my father out of the house when I was almost 4.
My father’s last name is not my last name. I earned my last name that day, however.
My parents got into a fight – not surprising, my mother is an expert at picking them. Unfortunately, my father had a very abusive father and he echoed this behavior by grabbing my mother by the throat and pinning her to the kitchen wall. I ran to him. Kicked him in the shin and said, “Leave mommy alone.”
He was so surprised he let her go.
Big mistake. She immediately fetched her cast iron skillet and suggested he remove himself from the household forthwith. He refused. She smiled and said, “You have to sleep sometime motherfucker.”
He left two days later, very tired.
My point is this. I am a courageous man who believes in love. I come from parents who are not afraid to either grab someone by the throat or fetch a cast iron skillet.
Or kick their 18 year old son out of the house with no job and no place to go.
I am not this extreme. I do not believe in violence. It is 99.9999999% of the time unnecessary.
That said. The difference between a peaceful man and a harmless man is the capacity for violence. The former possesses it, the latter does not.
I am a peaceful man.
I am the man who takes the beating, not the one who deals one out. This too is a form of violence; it is my superpower. I can take whatever any of you dish out. And I will return this treatment with love.
That’s how you do it, baby.
I do love you all. It might not seem so, sometimes. It is nonetheless true.
Daniel Hero
