THE HIGH GROUND
My grandfather has been on my mind much lately. Or should I say, in it.
I never met my grandfather. He died at the age of 41 from radiation sickness. He was a lifelong Navy man and a golden gloves boxer. His name was Jones Savage.
Doc. Jones “Doc” Savage. He held that nickname until he died. So yes, I am the grandson of Doc Savage. I swear you can’t make this shit up.
If you are curious about his role in the war, I have already written about that in “I’m thinking Gordon-Levitt for Doc.” He was a world war 2…I don’t know if hero is the right word…you know what, it is. Anyone who fought in or helped us win that war was and is a hero. Full stop. No more qualifiers needed.
There is an old saying – never meet your heroes. And there is a reason for this. Because there is no such thing as a pure hero. And sooner or later, meaning often, they will prove that to you.
My grandfather is no different. For all he did during that war and what he survived, twice -he was mean, tough, and impossible to kill – he was also a fucking asshole.
A very specific kind of fucking asshole. He was a racist asshole. A bad one, from what my mother tells me. He grew up in the south during the time he did. He did not know any better although he should have. All racist assholes should know better, regardless of the age in which they find themselves. But we are human and we often don’t.
My mother’s parents did their best to make my mother into them. Just another racist asshole. She didn’t let them. She saw they were wrong and didn’t care what they said. Good on you mom!
Unfortunately…. There was a slew of bad behavior she did adopt. Her parents kindly requested she remove herself from the family residence on her 18th birthday. I was born just over a year later. For some reason she saw some sort of wisdom in this and made this policy her own. She did warn me since I was 12.
I chose not to believe her. This was a mistake and one I should have known better about making. My mother is a force of nature. When she says she is going to do something you can damn well believe it.
I once weaponized my mother against the Army.
And won.
I know where I come from. I am a Savage first and foremost and I have never forgotten it. As are we all.
I have been taking a class on writing lately. I am finding it very satisfying and fruitful. My first assignment was to transform ten clichés (euphemisms as well, or at least, I took that liberty) – say it in a different way, make it your own. Here are my efforts in that regard.
1.) Puppy love – the bang and clatter when an angel hits the ground.
2.) Vegas wedding – the victory of hope over experience.
2a.) Vegas divorce – the victory of hope over experience. (I don’t think I should get credit for the same gag twice, much like the person who went to Vegas)
3.) Shotgun wedding -the victory of experience over youth.
4.) Better safe than sorry – the thinking ahead you do that keeps you from thinking of your behind.
5.) To be read pile – the reconciliation of infinite hope with limited means.
6.) Your worst nightmare – the dream you never have if your dreams aren’t big enough.
7.) Carts. Horses. Order is pair a mount. (I recycled this one, it’s in Aphorisms and Apothegms)
8.) An Assembly of Congress (if this isn’t a cliché what is?) – the proof and cure of Plato’s curse. (The curse of abstaining from politics is to be ruled by lesser men – updated to include women in a process dubiously known as progress.) Also known as preaching to the choir.
9.) Preaching to the choir – spoon feeding the cabinet. Also known as taking a leak.
10.) Day late and a dollar short – the carrot at the end of the stick.
Now, I like extra credit! It’s always good to have a little extra in the bank. Here are a few more. I learned these from trying to get my way (usually with women). As a policy I don’t argue with women. Better to go with the rotation.
Ax to grind – Forcing your blunt insistence against the rotation of the galaxy.
The delicate dance of pissing against the wind.
Shaving granddad’s mustache with the dull razor grandma uses to shave her ass.
(I was cranky when I wrote this next one – I would never fire this at a specific person… ready?)
a pet peccadillo prissy prancing a pent-up practiced preening perfunctorily performed perched precariously poised, perchance phlegmatically, in pursuit of a piteous pittance pledged to a pointless poison.
Grandfather had control of the keyboard when I wrote that last one, lol. I have to watch out for him, he likes to scrap and he doesn’t like to lose.
And he is a fucking asshole. Not a racist one though. Grandfather was forced to leave that at the door if he wants residence in this mind.
I like the idea of mottoes. They are akin to a cliché. A motto is a personal cliché! Families can have mottoes as well. I have thought of one for myself and my family. If I ever have a family crest made it will be two carrots crossed on a sylvan field – heraldry is a fascinating topic. My motto?
House Lannister – We always pay our debts.
House Stark – Always warning of the weather.
Chateaux Hero
Nyaaah…What’s up Doc?
After I posted this, I recalled. From Hero’s Dictionary:
White Supremacy; n. That part of the pimple indicative of trouble below; just prior to a certain future – the only thing worse than a racist asshole is the letter p.
And just in case anyone is trying to read too deeply, no – I have never sexually assaulted anyone. And I challenge you to find one of my past paramours who would say I was ever threatening or abusive in any way. The last time I was in a physical altercation was when I was in the military, which, if you think about it, is not that surprising.
Let me strive every moment of my life to make myself better and better, to the best of my ability, that all may profit by it. Let me think of the right and lend all my assistance to those who need it, with no regard for anything but justice. Let me take what comes with a smile, without loss of courage. Let me be considerate of my country, of my fellow citizens and my associates in everything I say and do. Let me do right to all, and wrong no man. – The oath of Doc Savage.
