I see it. I see too much of it.
Divide and Conquer
Divide and Conquer
It works. It’s an old, time tested strategy, an instinct for some.
Divide and Conquer. Step up in the world - on the backs of others.
I am sad to say - - - it works.
And (I am proud to say)
it’s not my thing.
*****
Yeah, OK Scott - Armchair Quarterback. Guy forever sitting in the cheap seats.
Big mouth
What do you got - Scott? What’s your plan? What do you suggest?
*****
Well…
How about this?
I think it is - My Thang.
Unite and Prosper
Unite and Prosper
That is my Thing. I think that’s always been my thing.
^
“I’d like to teach the world to sing - in perfect harmony.”
“Brothers to the left. Brothers to the right. No one left in between.”
(both lyrics - from songs)
^
The things we have done.
The things we Could Do.
Together. As one.
Together…
(This should be a song. If only I could write music to go along with words. AI???)
^^^^^
I am percussion, a rhythm, a beat.
I am - catalyst.
At my best, in my best moments - I bring people - together.
I’m not the front man. I’m the drummer.
I sit in back. I stand in back. I keep cadence.
I am a reminder, a brother, a husband, friend.
I am good faith. (I hope I am good faith.)
I march to my own beat. I do not follow, but I listen.
I hear you.
Let us walk - together.
I will listen.
^^^^^
Photo:
1976 - Scott and Friends, a motley crew
In, where else? My Parent’s basement. (My forever - favorite basement. It’s been a long time since I had a basement. I miss you - basement.)
My head is too big for my body. (Note to body. Get to work. Catch up.)
Great Friends. I’ve always been blessed to have Great, Wonderful Friends.
Those boys, we spun out into the world. Went a bunch of ways, and I don’t know where most of them are now.
But one, I’ve looped back to. (Or I should say, he made the effort, the big effort. He looped back to me.) We are still close. I think, maybe - closer than ever. (His Friendship means the world to me.)
One is gone. He has left. He is missed. (I miss him. We miss him.)
Another became a Big Shot. I think maybe he’s flying too high for this pack. Maybe he forgot (wants to forget) where he came from. Too big. He left us behind, in our (too) small place - distant time. (But time is funny. Time will tell. Time can be forgiving. Never say never. We might - one day - loop back.)
Another is distant, far away, but we have communicated, we do connect, from time to time. He is thoughtful, like me - a Thinker. We reminisce. And it is good. I am grateful for any connection / reconnect.
Friends, unity, fellowship. (That is what I see when I look at this photo.)
Where and when we come together, people of good will, good faith - men and women, cats and dogs
- - - you are my Brothers
When and where we come together - - - you all, us,
YOU are my Church
The big saving grace in my life was friends. I grew up in Brooklyn a couple of blocks from where my mom lived her whole life. I had relatives a short distance away in every direction. I even remember walking to my great-grandmother’s home near Prospect Park with my grandparents.
I grew up with a built in group of friends. We all lived in a large apartment building, and had friends from some other nearby buildings and private homes. Everyone knew each other, and they all knew my family (parents were huge community organizers and politically involved). We could play outside till dark and our parents never worried because the whole neighborhood knew us and watched. That also meant we had to be careful not to get caught doing something egregiously bad.
I was an unusual kid. I was talking at six months old, and when my mom tried to feed me meat for the first time, I asked her what it was. She explained it to me and I became a lifelong vegetarian at ten months old, though I didn’t know there was a word for it till I saw Dr. Doolittle at age five (yay, I am not the only one!). I was already proselytizing by the age of three. I remember adults always losing arguments with me over whether or not it was okay to kill and eat animals. They called me precocious, which I thought meant obnoxious.
I learned to read at two years old from adult dinosaur books. I understood and could easily explain it all. I remember going to the museum at the ripe old age of three and 1/2 and seeing the dinosaur fossils that waited my entire life to see. I went running through the museum screaming out the names of each one as I passed them. A group of college students were standing around the fossils with textbooks trying to identify them. One came up to my dad and asked him, “How is he doing that?” At the age of two, I decided I would become an archeologist (a paleontologist, really).
At the age of eight, my mind went on fire. I began writing poetry and short stories. I discovered Greek and Norse mythology. I decided to become an astronomer (that lasted till high school). I also discovered mysticism and parapsychology. All those things remain at my core.
I could not play sports much. I was incapable of throwing and catching. Zero hand-eye coordination, except at strange moments when I could see exactly how to do it, but those moments were fleeting. Perhaps it was because I am mixed-brain dominant.
Imagine trying to play with friends when they all played baseball, football, and more, and I couldn’t. Add to that, try being the freak who didn’t eat meat in a world where nobody knew that vegetarians were a thing. Plus, I was the little genius kid, who was also quite creative and loved to sing.
Sounds like a childhood horror story? It wasn’t!
My best friend, Scott, was a tough, scrappy kid, who was the natural leader of all the kids in our age range. Scott always loved me. At eight years old, I remember him challenging all the kids to jump up, grab the fire escape ladder, and hang on for thirty seconds. Everyone had to do it, he declared, “except Marc. He doesn’t have to cause he’s a genius.” At first I was insulted that he thought I couldn’t do it, but then I remembered that I couldn’t. Decades later, I realized what a loving thing that was.
We grew apart in high school. I went to Stuyvesant in Manhattan, and the others stayed in local schools. That became the divide, the kids who stayed in Brooklyn and the ones who went to Manhattan. But despite this, I never stopped caring about my old friends. We stayed in touch on occasion all through the years. I remember when Scott’s mom passed away, maybe twenty years ago, and my sister and I went to pay a shiva call to Scott and his sister. Some of our other friends were there as they were still close to Scott. At one point, I was talking to and our friend, Alan, about telomeres and the possibility of human immortality. Scott had a blank expression on his face, and I noticed Alan staring off in another direction. I quickly realized this is not their thing, and shut up. As soon as I stopped talking, Scott’s face broke into this huge shit-eating grin, and he said to me “You haven’t changed one bit!” At that moment, I knew how much this man loved me. It was quite mutual.
Seven years ago, I got a call from Scott. He was diagnosed with brain cancer and wanted me to come over. I finally got to tell him my whole life story, all the things I did and the adventures I had. I wanted him to fully know me. I even gave him a copy of my only published story in an old Spider-Man book. A few months later, I called him to tell him I was talking about him to a man I met the night before, and he didn’t answer. A minute later, his wife called and said she couldn’t believe I called him. She was going to call me to tell me he passed away the night before, just as I was talking about him. Scott was special. I told him he is the reason was not some messed up, alienated man. I was never bullied or ostracized despite being an extremely unusual boy, who was probably gay (and am). Thanks to Scott and my friends, I grew up loving people and community, going on to do decades of community/ social/political/lgbt activist work, creating organizations and making a difference.
I still speak occasionally to a couple of our friends. I am still extremely close to a few of the people I knew since birth. I now have perhaps a hundred close friends from every part of my life that I see and speak to, and cherish. Having those friends was the biggest blessing!