I once hated Ricky Spotz. He
was a fiery freckled-faced, red headed twelve-year old. For any one who
knew Ricky Spotz back then, the word fiery would be hilariously ironic.
It wasn't funny to me. I was twelve as well. I'm first to admit how odd
I must have been as a child. Looking back, distance and a narrow prospective
has allowed me to see myself as coolly, confident. But maybe I was just
weird.
Ricky exploded into my world and forced me to explain myself
(if just only to me). When he left, in another ignition, I was different.
He is the first person I remember hating. It wasn't real. But it was my
definition of hate. It feels silly now, but everything I hated since then
had to be measured against Ricky Spotz.
I hate when adults tell children, "trust me, I know what
I'm talking about."; I hate when someone argues with me with a smile;
I hate roads that turn for no reason; I hate when people make me turn
to talk to them; I hate when people expect the phone to ring; I hate downloading
mislabeled music; I hate people who smoke right outside your window; I
hate when non-smokers tell you not to smoke outside their windows; I hate
anger mistook for rebellion; I hate cruelty to animals; I hate motorcycles
on mountain trails; I hate baby talk; I hate trying to sleep on too hot
of nights; I hate a system where we have to pay lawyers to help us get
what should be our right to have for free; I hate senseless vandalism;
I hate a culture that thinks that chest thumping is cool; I hate a medical
system that charges for health...
I guess what I truly hate is that man who tried to push
me off the freeway. It wasn't the fact that he put my passengers and me
at risk, or that he was using a ton of metal as a weapon, or that his
rage was in disproportion to the fact that he had to slow down, what I
hated was the fact that as he was swerving in and out of my way, his ten
year old son was flipping me off. So I guess what I really hate is the
fact that adults pass on their insecurities and anger to their children.
That is real hate.
And, oh yeah, I hate Greg Brown. I think he is the Kino
of digital tunes. He is for people who really don't want to try hard to
enjoy music. But I guess that's not real hate. So I hate Greg Brown like
I hate Rick Spotz. And it took me most of my early adolescence to get
over that one.
