PacMan

Here, but not here. Rockaway, NY

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Father's Day: At True Story

PART I
From the car seat Q yells out with a joyful deviance:

"DAD IT'S A TIE!"
"DAD WE GOT YOU A TIE FOR FATHER'S DAY!"
"IT'S A TIE!"

That was the Friday before Fathers Day... but this story does not end here.

PART II
Q bursts into the house. On the kitchen table is a Macy's bag and a Panera bag. She rushes over to get the present. I had to open it right then and there. It's still Friday. She grabs the Panera bag.

"HERE YOU GO DAD, HERRRRRRE'S YOUR TIE!"

So I open the bag and pull out a stale half eaten roll.

"THAT'S NOT IT!"

Realizing her mistake she marches back to the table and returns with the Macy's bag and a rejuvenated smile.

"HERRRRRRE'S YOUR TIE!"

Looking inside I see carefully folded wrapping tissue and a package of Martha Stewart cupcake liners. I pull out the cupcake liners.

"THAT'S NOT IT EITHER!"

The joy returns quickly as she swipes the bag away and demands me the wrapping tissue.

"HERRRRRRE'S YOUR TIE!"

Playing along I carefully unravel the wrapping paper fold by fold, but there is nothing but empty inside.

"WHAT THE F*CK!"

(Ok she didn't actually say that... but it sure looked like that!)

With that she plunges her arm into the Macy's bag and confidently pulls out the remaining item and her biggest smile yet.

"HERE IT IS, HERRRRRRE'S YOUR TIE!"

Happy Father's Day,

XOXO
M. C!arke

The Day Bigfoot Got "Discovered"

#onelunchstory (stories written in a one hour lunch)

It was early morning and foggy on a path in Forest Park in Portland Oregon. Bigfoot ran over a biker on crosswalk. Both claimed they had the right of way. The biker and Bigfoot got into a heated exchange. Bigfoot offered to fix the bike (it was totaled) but unfortunately Bigfoot could do very little about a broken leg.

The biker captured the whole exchange on Facebook Live. It became wildly viral although it never did eclipse Beyonce or even Kanyedashian in their heyday. Bigfoot got discovered, broke a bike and a leg but unfortunately was unable to break the internet.

So how did Bigfoot end up in Forest Park on that fine foggy morning? Everyone assumed Bigfoot was in Washington. Turns out it was Northern California. Between the cost of living and the drought Bigfoot couldn't take it anymore and headed north. Bigfoot heard they were building many new condos and could get one fairly cheap. Bigfoot didn't actually have any money but Bigfoot figured the Bigfoot brand would pay the bills.

Bigfoot also knew Bigfoot was a big deal in and around Portland Oregon. The rest of the country had slowly lost interest over the years. Bigfoot was getting long in the tooth as well. Literally. Bigfoot decided it was time to get discovered or die alone and sad and in bad need of dental work.

In anticipation of being "discovered" and moving to Portland Bigfoot had converted to veganism. Because of this Bigfoot's teeth were growing without anything to file them down. On the flip side Bigfoot decided that Kale wasn't as bad as people said it was.

Bigfoot also really liked beer since most campers had plenty of beer to pilfer. If there were three things that Portland had it was Beer, Dentists and Kale. Bigfoot figured Bigfoot would be set.

Bigfoot had already made contact some months before at the annual Sasquatch Festival. Nobody really noticed, because everyone just assumed it was a costume. To be fair people were blown away by the costume. Which really made Bigfoot want to smile but Bigfoot thought it best to keep from bearing the giant teeth in Bigfoot's mouth. Also Bigfoot got a lot of free beers that weekend.

Turns out Portland really was the best place to be "discovered." Although it had a history of being somewhat hostile to outsiders, Portland's motto to keep Portland weird really worked in Bigfoot's favor. Pretty much everywhere Bigfoot went Bigfoot got free beers and dental advice.

Bigfoot even "grew a beard" by perpetually shaving the rest of Bigfoot's body. Bigfoot also got some tattoos, one said "Mom" set on a burning heart and the other said "Vegan for Life" set on a bunch of Kale. Despite the never ending questions Bigfoot never revealed the meaning behind the "mom" tattoo. Truth was Bigfoot had no idea.

Bigfoot lives a more or less quiet life now. The biker and Bigfoot became great friends and share a garden plot in Northeast. Bigfoot is in the news now and then with headlines like "Bigfoot Scores Medical Marijuana Card" and "Bigfoot Poses for Selfie with Tourists". Bigfoot isn't even the most popular street figure (having conceding the title to the Unipiper) but Bigfoot lives happy, well adjusted and never ever misses a 6 month dental checkup.

XOXO
M. C!arke

The Greatest

Flint Northern was a fairly large high school so it was quite a large auditorium and it was packed with kids in a rally like atmosphere. Frenetic energy. Cacophony of voices. Muhammad Ali was coming. The greatest of all time. It was 1986.

There were banners, there were bands and then there was Ali. Amid it all he looked small and frail. His voice was weak. He was shaking. Really, really shaking. Most noticeably the microphone in his hand waved back and forth like a runaway metronome. A one two punch of humanity vs human. We had no idea, it took us a while to believe that it was him. But it was.

As quiet and hushed as we became we could hardly hear him. I remember catching every other word at best. It seemed semi religious in nature, heavy on the peace and love.

I remember being awed at the pugnacious attitude he displayed towards his obvious discomfort. Ali! A hero. The peoples champion. Very near a prophet, no scratch that, a prophet. A living legend. Peace, love. I remember 2 or 3 fights breaking out in the crowd before it was over.

I wish I could have seen him under better (earlier) circumstances. Listened to him then. But Ali survived, that was 30 years a go. Medication improved. The science behind the treatment of Parkinson's improved.

Of course he never gave up or gave in. Ali!

Sad the world as a whole has not improved the way medicine has. Trayvon Martin, Sandra Bland... Iraq, Afghanistan... Hate, poverty, war, racism. Racism. We loved Ali. He loved us. He loved his blackness and he loved ours.

Ali was the greatest and by greatest I do not mean "boxer." Ali was simply the greatest human being alive at the time, who happened to have been a boxer.

P.S. We're going to need more prophets. Thanks.

XOXO
M.C!arke

TARGET MY LITTLE PONY GREAT DEAD SEA PLASTIC TRASH GYRE

First I slide the card, then the reader buzzes, then it tells me to put it in the slot, then it buzzes because I take it out too fast...

2 of my 3 kids are with me, the 5 year old and the 81 year old. Both are grumpy and like to hit people with sticks when they get angry, or hungry.

We are in the TARGET by the airport. We are in the last checkout lane and next to the impulse buy AISLE. You know the one, the rest of the store is downsizing it's vertical reach, except this aisle, thing appears to be 30 feet tall and full of ocean killing crap.

I'm still trying to get the card to talk to the reader, Gramps has taken off already with the cart, his cane and the unpaid purchases and Q comes up to me from the AISLE of DEAD SEA PLASTIC with a package in her hand.

"Dad I want this."

"No." I put the card back in and start over.

"But Dad I need this."

"No you don't and you don't have any money with you so you can't buy it." I type in my pin wrong and the reader buzzes at me again.

"Dad I want you to buy this for me."

"Go get someone else to buy it for you. Go and ask for the money you want to buy that thing, remember to tell them exactly why you NEED that thing." I pull the card out and it buzzes again.

"Dad I want you to buy this for ME, NOW!"

"Absolutely Not." At this point the world went telescopic. I turned my attention from the card reader to the package in Q's hands. There were no buzzes, all fell silent. It was an experience somewhere between a techno savvy cop drama and Vertigo. As my brain zoomed in on the logo on the package it grew crazy large, warped my perspective and became unmistakeable:

MY LITTLE PONY

"You don't even like MY LITTLE PONY."

"YES I do."

"No you don't."

"Yes I DO."

"You do not watch the show, you do not like the show. You do not like the books. You do not..."

"That's NOT true."

"Yes it is."

"There are too many characters on the show besides I have lots of MY LITTLE PONY stuff!"

"Exactly."

"BUY it for me DAD!!!!"

Then with all the Dad power I could muster I put the lid back on the rage bottle and said as flatly and as clearly as possible: "It's a bag with little pieces of plastic inside. You absolutely do not need it."

At that point a pleasant beep, the machines had come to an agreement and we were off. I put my card away and she put the package back on the GREAT DEAD SEA PLASTIC TRASH GYRE.

Beep.

XOXO

M. C!arke

Q

Pride (In the Name of Love)

Today I do declare I am the proudest Papa of a 5 year old in all of Dadlandia.

How did I get here? It all started yesterday evening shortly after returning home from work.

Before this it had been a miserably cold and dark and crappy day. Before this barely a mouse had scratched it's ass all day at work. Before this I was once again a half zombie walking through a wholly familiar threshold with a familiar greeting:

"Hi honeys... I'm home!"

Already things were looking up. M and Q were fervently crafting intricate flowers out of an impressive and chaotic assortment of colored and printed paper. Shapes and designs swirled and coalesced across the table top like waves on a pool of shifting mosaic tile.

I sit down to take it in. Happy, so very happy to be out of the cold and dark and free from the wheel and the drip and the cage where we spend our days counting things even smaller than we are.

M gets up to leave and Q and I are left with pen and paper and scissor and tape. It's an odd but comforting feeling... to feel so adequately prepared for any problem with only a few basic tools and materials. This is all you need.

After a few moments of orienting myself to the infinite possibility in front of me the 5 year old cuts in:

"Dad, my friend today said something that wasn't true."

"Oh" I said. "What was that?"

"She said only a man and woman could get married. But I told her that wasn't true. I told her she was wrong. I was right, wasn't I?"

"Yes, absolutely. You are right."

And that was it. No long drawn out explanation or recounting. No need to explain the regional aspects of the issue. No need for any grey in this sea of color. 5 year olds tend to overstate. She continues:

"If a woman wants to marry a woman, or a man wants to marry a man, or a man wants to marry a woman, or a Mom wants to marry a Dad or a Mom wants to marry a Mom or a Dad wants to marry a Dad that's ok too, right?"

"Yep"

"I was right, I knew it."

So that's it. Nothing more to see here except flowers and leaves and stems. Time to move along. Love wins. Easy peasy.

And I shall be a proud and happy man for this day and many more.

XOXO

Matthew Clarke

Q, Sunset Beach

Train Station, Portland

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Q, Sunset Beach

#M, Sunset Beach

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