Dr. Oz was on.
Somebody talking about nuts
Which ones were good for you, which ones were bad.
We were a rapt audience in the waiting room, each one of us happy for the bland distraction, but also sincerely curious. Something had happened in our lives that had changed us. We’d all crossed a line, moving from our natural selves to the types of people who now hoped if only they ate the right kind of nuts then everything would be okay. A woman leaving the clinic stopped and looked at me. Having noticed the oxygen concentrator on my back she abruptly said, “I HOPE YOU DON’T SMOKE!” I assured her that I didn’t, that I had quit, and as I was saying this the person who had accompanied her said– in a voice meant to convey to us that we should think of this woman as a child–“It would be great if you could quit, too, Beverly! Maybe this man can tell you how to do it?” And we all stopped watching Dr. Oz. We all stepped from our anxieties. No longer thinking of ourselves as people who needed to be helped, we thought of ourselves as people who needed to help. And in this, we were released. The grief that had hung in the room dispersed, and as if by saintly intent, we were left there, still and light for a moment, the tv flickering irrelevantly in the corner.
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Falling every November, 19th, this day gives me an opportunity to celebrate my masculinity, honour the patriarchy and let my robust heterosexuality roar. It’s a day that I mindfully live to it’s full, manly potential.
This is the journal of my celebration:
November, 19, 2015
6:20 am
Fed the baby and told him stories of manliness.
9:00 am
Had healthy breakfast of granola and a smoothie, as I have a variety of health issues. Told a story about eating bacon to my wife Rachelle while she and the baby played with a “found” rattle (childproof pill container of my anti-anxiety medication) on the yoga matt.
9:30 am
Began to think of myself as somebody named John Steele instead of Michael Murray.
9:45 am
Took Heidi, our Miniature Dachshund, for a walk around the block. Felt good to be out in nature, hunting with my animal. Met two other Miniature Dachshunds, both wearing argyle sweaters. Their owner told me their names were Simon and Garfunkle and to watch out for Garfunkle as he was “crabby.”
10:00 am
Played online poker under the name of John Steele and watched a variety of hockey fights and leaked celebrity sex tapes.
11:30 am
Read “The Littlest Acorn of them All” to my son and then put him down for a nap.
11:45 am
Made my wife a smoothie as she was headed out to a series of womanly afternoon appointments.
12:00 pm
Sampugita, our friend’s nanny, came over to look after the baby. I asked her many questions about her personal life and what dating was like for a young woman in a foreign country. Told her about a few of the sports I used to play. Tennis, in particular.
12:30 pm
Told Sampugita to make me lunch.
12:45 pm
Got text from my wife Rachelle, telling me that making lunch for me was not one of Sampugita’s responsibilities, and that there was left-over quinoa in the fridge.
I AM SURROUNDED BY FEMINAZIS!!!
1:00 pm
Went outside and threw rocks at the stop signs. A few of the kids from the Frat House down the street joined in and for a brief, shining moment, we were a beautiful Northern European tribal pack fighting the enemy. Hail Odin!
1:15 pm
Went home and played with my electric train set while listening to Gordon Lightfoot and slow drinking Jack and Coke.
3:30 pm
Posted my feelings, under the name of John Steele, on a men’s group message board.
4:30 pm
Watched Mike Tyson knock-out videos from the 1980’s, noticing that the boxers all had perfect, gleaming bodies, sweat-slick, they were tangles of beautiful male ferocity under the hot lights.
5:00 pm
Stumbled upon a video called “Johnny Rapid Goes Bareback.” Watched it while finishing my bottle of Jack. More posting on men’s message board under the name of John Steele. And then a little more.
6:00 pm
John Steele then went for a very long, confusing walk alone.
]]>Here are a couple of book synopses that I’ve prepared for my publisher:
“Duke Miller and the mystery of the over-spiced and runny eggs.”
Duke, a young American food critic, is the sort of man who always knows where he’s going. He’s not afraid to send food back or say something that he believes about homosexuals, even if it’s not politically correct to do so. Duke, combining the brash individualism of the US with the delicate sophistication of Europe, travels the world reviewing restaurants with his constant companion, a miniature pot-bellied pig named Clipper.
In this introductory novel, Duke encounters a plate of over-spiced and runny eggs while on a trip in France, and investigates the mystery of how this happened. I do not want to give away the ending, but a flashlight plays a key role in solving the mystery!
“Duke Miller and that hostess from Montreal.”
In this transitional book, Duke investigates his romantic feelings for Audrey, an older, seductive hostess from a Montreal bistro. However, it turns out that Audrey is not really in love with Duke but just wants to secure a good review for her restaurant, something that Clipper cottons on to long before Duke. In the end, ‘Ce Coeur De Mien’ gets the review it deserves and Duke and Clipper are once again set on their happy, wandering ways.
“Duke Miller and the mystery of why the coffee tasted like jalapenos.”
Set in the exotic local of Cuba, this novel features a sub-plot of a resort worker—Freddy– who wishes to escape the terrible food and totalitarian regime of Cuba. Duke, investigating the mystery of the coffee, stumbles upon Freddy, who was being forced by a mean, tourist-hating chef to grind hot peppers into the coffee beverage served at the resort. Duke, shocked, agrees to help Freddy escape. Things go well until Duke discovers Freddy is a homosexual, at which point Duke’s morals will no longer permit him to help.
