Mommy's Meltdown

“Mommy I saw you screaming and yelling at the man in the high chair. Why?”

“Yes, my darling shining star of fairness and gender equality. I was feeling unhappy, angry and cheated by life and if that wasn't enough I was playing like shit. The other girl was playing better then me.”

“Oh mommy, did you need a time out?”

“I needed more than a time out. I needed coaching from my box.”

“You mean like cereal from a box?”

“Kind of. It's a human signal thing when your coach in the box moves their hands close together meaning go to the net.”

“I've seen you go to the Internet. After you had a meltdown millions of sad, angry people went to the net to express their feelings and opinions. Most were about the mean old man in the high chair, tennis rules and something called double standards.”

“That's write honey bunny. Millions of my fans including 23,990 in the stands expressed their anger and vitriolic bitterness at the cruel tragic reality. I was going down in flames created by my inability to let it go, get focused and back in the match. I was facing elimination, loss, shame, and character assignation. I felt betrayed by the system.”

“Is that why you smashed your racquet mommy?”

“It's part of the reason, sweet. I knew I’d lose the match to a better player. She served better than me. She returned serve better than me. She moved better than me. I broke my racquet to show the world I am a strong woman.”

“The man in the high chair was calm mommy.”

“Don't be fooled my dear. He's a liar and a thief.”

“What did he steal?”

“He stole a point from me. He stole a game from me. He gave the other player my game. It wasn't fair. My actions had consequences and it wasn't fair.”

“No one said life is supposed to be fair mommy.”

“You can say that again darling. Anger and no self control is very expensive.”

“What happened to the other girl?”

“She ignored the crowd's psychotic behavior, took deep breaths, focused on her game and played one point at a time. She closed it out with Zen precision.”

“She handled the situation well didn't she mommy?”

“She had the right attitude. I was just another tennis player to her. She was cool to the end.”

“You displayed good emotional intelligence on the stage mommy. You hugged the girl and told the crowd to stop booing.”

“It's about self R-E-S-P-E-C-T and respecting others.”

“Life is a hard teacher, mommy. If you don't learn the lesson you have to repeat it.”

“It's not about tennis. It's about character. Tennis begins with love. Now get out of your high chair. I'm late for my anger management class.”

(The writer has twenty years experience as a certified tennis teacher/coach. He worked as a linesman and chair umpire for the Irish Tennis Federation Inter-Zonal Davis Cup matches.)

Five Chinese Aliens, Bhaktapur, Nepal

Spring roll 2011. It’s dinnertime. Five Chinese aliens appear in a Bhaktapur guesthouse restaurant.

Two males and three females around 20.

They are armed with laptops, cell phones, and loud discursive language. This is their normal. Noise and confusion and interruptions and arrogant attitudes fit their life style.

One girl is dressed like a flapper from the 20’s. Daisy talks with her mouth full of rice as her red diamond tiara squeezes her frontal lobe into a shucked pea.

They are lucky to have a passport. Their parents are important Red Party Officials.

It’s all about connections.

They’ve whined their way out of manners and intelligence in public places. The new breed of The Ugly Chinese - lost, terribly frustrated never satisfied in a big fucking hurry coddled spoiled youth.

They are the new emperors and empresses in a rising dynasty. They act like they own the restaurant. They complain about the price of a meal. One girl said in a shrill voice, “Oh, it’s too expensive. I am a poor student.”

She majors in Stupidity and Callousness at Beijing Ab-Normal University. She failed Basic Courtesy 101.

Gated primary Chinese student in Maja village Fujian, China.

A brat boy chastises the Nepalese waiter about his pronunciation of “Menu.” The crew cut Mandarin idiot commands the boy to say it again. Menu. Menu. Menu.

They are living breathing examples of the spoiled one-child political and cultural genocide legacy.

It will come back to haunt China. They have the emotional maturity of a 10-year old. They are so busy stuffing their faces and talking over each other all the European guests stare at them. They don’t care. They act and talk like this at home.

A vociferous Chinese virus has been unleashed on Earth.

Flapper Dolly jumped up on the table yelling, “Kill the Running Capitalist Dogs! Making Money in China is Glorious!”

Everyone threw steel-toed reinforced hiking boots at her. She died of Shame. Such indignity.

Her friends dragged her body out. They sold the boots to pay for her cremation at a Hindu temple.

Bhaktapur, Nepal

divorce integrity

In Turkey divorce is seen as a failure. A place where the majority of women know their place and stay in it. A place where mothers control and manipulate their daughter’s behavior, attitudes and imaginary freedom with a heavy dictatorial hand called love. Chains of love.

One was different. She confided in me. I listened. After seven months of marriage she’d decided to leave her husband filing divorce papers.

“I feel so much better,” she said. She opened up. She felt free. She had a lot to say. She’d believed her husband in the beginning.

“He lied to me. He courted me with sweet words and I thought, or believed I thought or thought I believed he had an open mind but I was disappointed because he wasn't honest...so after some time measured in weeks then months I saw his, how do you say, irresponsibility, how he wouldn't contribute his heart to me, to our relationship and then, when I tried to talk to him he was closed to me, he shut down and I was working and trying to keep the flat up and work on our relationship but I saw it was difficult, then really, really impossible to live with everything in my brain and heart.”

She inhaled. “Now, when he saw my action to end the marriage he was filled with remorse and regret and apologies. But it's too late. I told him to move out. He returned to his family. He tries to bother me every day in his childlike whining way but it's over. I can handle it. I am strong and know what I want in my life. My family is very supportive of my decision.”

“In China it’s always about saving face. Appearances. Here, it's about self respect, growth and personal dignity,” I said. “Some get it and some don’t.”

“Yes! I am not living the lie anymore. I feel free.”

zero effort

yes, said the seven year young genius. here's another true class tomb saga from Laos. 

it happened like this. a foreign teacher faced 12 seventh grade homonids.

how many of you are afraid to speak? afraid to make a mistake?

12 hands shot into air. trembling arteries and armed veins exploded cortex capillaries.

reach for the sky yelled a thief disguised as an autocratic robotic local teacher. 

memorize the text. keep your big fat mouth shut. class dismissed. zero effort.

it takes 12 years of formal education to beat the spirit out of a child, sighed a genius.

bye-bye said orphan.

Addictions

I was the only addict in detox taking notes on a yellow legal pad.

I needed raw unfiltered evidence and truth.

I was addicted to writing, photography and traveling. 

Heroin, smack, booze, pills and love addicts were wolves crying and howling in their self imposed vast wilderness of pain, hatred, agony. Looking for self love in detox, trying to get their lives together. 

Some lived as if they were already dead.

“Before I checked when I was growing tired of it all,” I said.

“I lived with a woman in a disastrous, self destructive relationship. I played the rescuer, a father figure. My victim turned on me. They always do. My writing was empty. I drank to avoid the truth facing the real work. Before coming here, I submitted to therapy.

"If I was going to survive and be healthy, I acknowledged the fact, the hard cold realistic truth that I wasn’t responsible for my mother’s death. I needed to confront this guilt at the heart level, not the head level.

“You have to break down before you break through."

“What happened?” said Tom Vodka.

"I broke down, cried, talking out old fears and self destructive behaviors, old angers and resentments. I realized my integrity, my self-reliance. I accepted more responsibility for my life.”

So it goes.