“No, I am Your Bother”

 The kids that were born between 2010 and 2025 are/will be known as Generation Alpha. In zoology, the alpha is the dominant animal in a particular group. In astronomy, alpha is used to describe the brightest star. Personally, I can think of no better adjectives to describe this era early stage earthlings than tough and bright…..

Unfortunately, based on an experience I had this summer, the issue of an obvious ineptitude and oblivious offspring is no longer a problem confined to humankind. 

When I was growing up, my parents had a bit of a building structure and beams called a bird feeder. Now, despite what the name might have one believe, this device was predominantly used for feeding….birds. However, some of the more surly squirrels and cheeky chipmunks could gain access to the outdoor amenities. I can recall many a time poking my head out of the back door going “HEY!” and the critters would do this depressed dive bomb off of the deck like “Ah, man.” 

I have no knowledge of the history behind when humans and our furry friends agreed that this was the course of action we would take. I can’t recall a signing of the Treaty of FurGuy or anyone being held accountable at the Furmberg Trials. What I can tell you is that this agreement has been broken. 

Whether, the squirrel in the following story was male or female I have no idea, I’m not a zoologist, so instead of naming it I am just going to put a 🐿️ (which I am pretty sure is a chipmunk 😏) and you can decide what you want to call it. Although I will throw out names like: My Name Is Squirrel, Squirrel Ives, Squirrelly Joe DeRita, Elizabeth Squirrelly, Squirrelly Temple and Mother of Squirrel. 

Over the summer, I was eating breakfast and looking out at the bird feeder, at that very moment, 🐿️ had made (her or his) way onto the deck and was eyeing the bird feeder. I (reluctantly) got up from the table and made my way over to the door, easing it open. I stuck my head out and mustered up all of the meanness that can come from an individual whose only detentions in school came from unexcused absences and gum chewing and said “HEY!” 🐿️ looks into the woods behind trying to identify the source of the sound. 🐿️ continues the rotation and almost looks startled to see me (which had me flustered before conflict even ensued.) 🐿️ continues to look at me as if to say “Can I help you?” And I was like “Get out of here!” 🐿️ continues to stare unmoved with birdseed falling out of both sides of his/her face as if to say “I think you and I both know that your earliest childhood fear was Alvin getting yelled at in the Alvin and the chipmunks Christmas song and it is not a problem for me to get a couple of buddies up here and make that happen.” 

“I…..I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” 🐿️ could tell that she/he had me on the ropes.

“That doesn’t matter!” I said with a little more pout than I was hoping, mostly trying to reassure myself at this point. “And those are chipmunks, you are a squirrel.” 

“Yeah” 🐿️ said, “I will give you give you five pine needles if you can tell me the difference between the two.” 

“……Ok, first of all, least appealing sales pitch of all time and secondly, I am not arguing with you, I’m going to get the BB gun.” I turned my back and headed towards the door.

“Alright, alright I’ll go.” 🐿️ relented, “but we’ll be back and in greater numbers.” 

I froze with my hand on the door knob and half looked over my shoulder “Wa…..was that….a Star Wars reference?” 

“Yeah.” 🐿️ said bashfully staring down swirling her/his paw in the bird seed on the railing seeming almost ashamed for having made a joke during a confrontational conversation. 

Still not completely turned around I said “I thought it would mean nothing to me to go downstairs, grab my BB gun and send you sailing off the deck, but now……I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” 

🐿️ ‘s eyes lit up and then quickly looked away, embarrassed to have formed a connection with the inhabitant of a home he/she tried to invade. And I did go grab the BB gun and when I returned 🐿️ was gone. While the departure of the other half of this delightful interaction made me sad, I was also relieved, because if I ever see that animal again I know what that means. 

The MBA Draft

 Stores that have those Now Hiring signs that are like “Come join our team” as if people are going to be like “I want to play a game!” Sure, I’ll join the “team” as long as I get to full speed chest bump my coworkers when we complete a task, throw some/all of the materials I work with at some point and every December there is a widely televised report about several prospects that the company is interested in bringing on and the five people most likely not to be there come January.

Arrest Room

 Everyone should go to Pelham house of pizza, their cheese pizza and meat lovers calzone are out of this world and the following is in no way a defamatory shot at the establishment 

I went to pick something up at PHOP and towards the back of the dining area there is a door with a sign on it that reads “No public restrooms. Please don’t ask.” 

I laugh every time I see it. Why is that a two sentence message? I mean I am all for unnecessary rambling, but why are you getting so defensive? It’s like, this is not a bathroom, some of us don’t even know what is back here and we don’t want to talk about it, ok? 

I have three theories:

1. The door leads to a secret land called Carnia where ingredients are made cheaply and deliciously and they don’t want their competitors to find out about this huge advantage they have in ingredients shipping time 

2. They don’t fire employees, but every month they choose a worst performing employee, tape up their mouth and limbs and throw them in there 

3. There is a Walter White situation, the business is a front and they are cooking more than just pizza 

Again, the food is delicious, you should definitely go there and after you have purchased something, you should get all panicked and wide eyed and please PLEASE ask if they have a bathroom.

Dehumanifier

 Gossip, secrets and rumors definitely make me uncomfortable, but I recently learned that I get equally on edge when I walk into the basement to the whirring of the dehumidifier and it cuts out the second I reach the bottom of the stairs and all that is left is just this uncomfortable, awkward borderline suspicious level of silence. I just glance over at the inanimate, inaudible appliance like "I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?" 

I don't mean to revamp any AI invasion arguments, I am just saying, be careful out there people, I think they are planning something.

Babbleonian

 I found this while going through some boxes in the attic at my parent's house. We could talk about the hair, but we are not going to. I was never an artist and I know that. Instead, I would like to focus on what I (and my mother) believe to be letters put together in an attempt to form words.    

I am now convinced that every parent of a child deserves at least honorary (if not a legitimate) bachelor's degree in Linguistics specializing in the study of endangered/extinct languages. Every teacher deserves a master's degree and every teacher who is also a parent should get a PhD, because to me this looks like someone was woken from a deep sleep, blindfolded, given seventeen cups of coffee and then they were asked to draw what the inside of a pinball machine looks like.

Die Yard

 I don't mean to brag, but I have the looks of a movie star. After a day of working outside being hit in the face by branches from trees that are clearly looking for revenge from the years they spent being unintended casualties in paintball battles, slamming my knees on rocks covered in leaves and sneezing my head off, I definitely resemble Bruce Willis towards the end of the Die Hard movies. So, be on the lookout for my screenplay debut, Die Yard. 

Ballpark Figures

 While I can honestly say that I have done my part on all of the group assignments/projects I had been assigned in school, there is one "team effort" I claim that I in fact had little to nothing to do with.

I was probably about eight years old, and we went to visit family in Michigan. My Uncle Bob stopped being a loser for once in his life (don't worry about it) and took us to a Detroit Tigers game. The Detroit Tigers were playing the Tampa Bay Rays at the now extinct, Tiger Stadium. In the sixth inning, the Tampa Bay Rays hit a ball deep to left field which was right where we were sitting. Now, I have gone for a ride on some respiratory system roller coasters in my life, I have seen Braveheart, watched the Red Sox come back from being down 0-3 in the ALCS and seen the Patriots emerge victorious after being down 28-3. This moment was more of an emotional "El Toro" than all of them. I got excited as a player connected with the ball and hit it deep, I got bummed out when I remembered it was a Tampa Bay Rays player and I got really afraid as the ball headed right for our section. My dad put his hand up and knocked it down (a pain he complains about to this day.) The ball proceeded to fall between a folded-up seat in front of us and my brother and another family's chosen fighter dove for it. The Wootang Clan emerged victorious. To this day, my brother will not talk about what happened underneath those seats on the floor planted with popcorn and budding with beer stains that night. Every time I ask, "What was it like, Michael?" He sits still, appears to look right through me, takes a drag on cigarette that seems to have appeared out of nowhere and says "...don't worry about it." What was I doing, you ask? I was sipping on my $12 water, and I am happy to say I only have three payments left on the hot dog, the reason for the markup on the dog I was eating was due to the fact that the pork used in these particular bundled up bunches of meat were from Ancient Egypt and had been blessed by Isis and much like that quote, the meat had aged very poorly. I get to tell people this happened, but as far as my involvement I was not a main character, a supporting character or anything like that. I figured for my part in all of this I would stick to being who I am, an author.