I am an outsider. I have always been an outsider. I will most probably be an outsider forever. My next birthday I will be 70 years old and during those years I have never found a place or situation where I felt I belonged. A place that I could call home. I have had homes and I have made homes in some unlikely places but that is not the home I am talking about. I can make a home anywhere and have done so many times but that is not what I am talking about here. I am talking about home as in community. I am talking about a social home.
I was born in Little Rock, Arkansas and raised there and in the woods to the west and I have great memories of it. My memories of growing up in that pine forest are a remembered fantasy. I was at home in those woods and only in those woods. They were my woods. Little did I know that it would be the last place I would feel that way.
I came of age on the streets of Little Rock. It was a wondrous city of delights as magical to a boy of 13 as anyplace on earth. Trinket shops, magic shops, 10 cent hot dogs, five and dime stores and men and women who made offers you could refuse or not. Coming of age was risky and fun. I attended Central High School the year before it was integrated yet I can not remember a single persons name in that school. The only classes I have any recollection of are drafting (a lost art now) and their magnificent print shop. The training I received in that print shop led me to my first profession.
It has been a mystery to me why I took it so easily when I was uprooted during my 16th year and moved a 1000 miles away. That sort of thing is devastating to most teenagers but I didn't care. I realize now in retrospect that I didn't care because I did not feel at home(socially) where I was born and raised. It was not my home(socially) even though who I was to become and who I am now was formed there.
Knowing every rock, tree, trail and blade of grass in those woods made it home physically but I never knew the people in the surrounding country. I knew their names and their relationships to each other but little else and they did not know each other either.
I went back to those woods to visit after a 32 year absence and found that place transformed into the unrecognizable. The place I remember exist now only in my mind and I am thankful for that for I can lean back in my chair close my eyes and return there anytime.
When will I be found out? I keep waiting to be taken away for something. My life has been and is now too good. I can't think of anything I should be punished for but I feel guilty for having it so good while doing what I want. I have most of my life felt as if I was getting away with something and would be found out at any moment.
Evolution and the Survival of the Human Species
After much observation I have come to the conclusion that the only reason that the human species survives is not by the grace of God but because it can reproduce faster than it can kill itself. I guess we can call that the grace of reproduction. We are getting better killing but we still make more than we kill off. I expect a break through at any time. Ah progress.
Sanity has prevailed and I have never owned a pig at least not a live one. I have always wanted to but the logistics have been more than I can deal with. Pigs are intelligent, loyal and have a expressive face and I, being an omnivorous person (like bears and pigs), have eaten a lot of pigs. In fact I have probably eaten enough pigs to have made myself over a couple of dozen times so I guess I am more pig than anything else.
Being a devout heathen I have taken the pig as my symbol. This flying pig with the golden wings has been my guardian angel for several years now and has done as well as any other guardian angel that I have ever had. I keep it next to my statue of Buddha.
In my devotion I just sacrificed more pig to the Gods of food. Yum.