February 27th, 2023 - The Last Grownup

Dear TNY,

It’s only been two weeks since we last spoke but it feels like forever, and now a new Monday has arrived with “The Last Grownup”.

And, wow.  Just wow.

Like, I don’t know this Richard guy (and who can because every character in this story is flimsier than Trump’s stolen election claims), but I’m happy he isn’t married to Debra anymore.  Why do you insist on publishing unlikable characters (my guess is because you don’t know they are unlikable (hint: this is a PROBLEM))?  This lady sticks her nose everyfuckingwhere it doesn’t belong.  My favorite is when Debra, Richard, and Heather were at the family meeting and Debra dictated in what order the children should know things about Richard and Heather’s relationship, how those things should be delivered, and then wedged herself into the approval process of the wording of the engagement (again, about a relationship that isn’t hers).  What a fucking asshole. 

Get a fucking life, lady.  Maybe go out.  Find a partner.  Swing dance.  Fuck, swing upside-down pineapple style.  Get railed by the neighbor and his wife.  Peg a twink.  Sell coke on the corner of 115th & Broad.  Wrestle an alligator for money in a backyard on the outskirts of Shreveport, LA.  Do something other than meddle in the life of your ex-husband.  He’s got the right to raise his kids however he wants, around whomever he wants, doing whatever he wants, in whatever fucking order he sees fit (so long as The State deems it “safe”, whatever the fuck that means).  You might have forgotten, but he is responsible for half the creation of those children. Equal fucking rights (laughable, because they aren’t, but it’s still the truth).  So get off his fucking case and go live your life. 

Here’s an idea: Actually be a grownup, as the title implies, instead of a narcissistic child.

I just can’t with these stories about boring people doing boring shit.  The lives that are painted here are as beige and forgettable as an undergraduate painting of a bowl of fruit.  The vocabulary in this is middling at best.  The command of language and its freshness isn’t here either.  None of the characters are thicker than poster-board and their complexities are non-existent.  The scenery is missing.  There’s no plot to be had which makes the “story” part of the story hard to find because there is no character development either.  Nothing and no one evolves.  And this is what readers read?  If so, this country’s readership is a fucking waste of breathable air and agricultural resources.

Early on, the line that struck me as foreshadowing, and by that I mean foreshadowing what would happen in the story as well as foreshadowing the pointlessness of this whole piece, was this:

(Debra says) “But what can I do about it?”

“Do you always have to do something?” Suzanne (her therapist) answered.

And yep, she always does, even though it isn’t her place. Way to go, Karen.  Also, in the paragraph above this in the story, Debra’s inner monologue (which, the total inner monologue throughout the story helped me build a very firm high five for Richard getting the fuck out of Dodge) states, “Heather is someone she can work with.”  You know what, Debra?  No one fucking cares about your opinion of Heather. It’s not your relationship.  Imagine if you had a suitor and your ex husband was like, “I like Steve; he’s someone I can work with,” or worse yet, “I don’t like Steve; I can’t work with him.”  You don’t have control over this man’s life. Work on your own.  He likely left you because you controlled him for years, honey.  But, you know, do your thing.  How’s life with the ball and Max in the backyard?

So.  Fucking.  Dumb. 

Back to the lit aspect, why does this need to exist?  It isn’t furthering the form.  I guess, one could make the case that, like “Cat Person”, it’s documenting and validating a particular demographic that exists in our era.  But, do we need to?  These people suck.  Why capture them with art (lowercase definitely intended) when there are other, better, in the Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance sense, Quality people out there?

Pick me, pick me!  I know the answer!

Because Quality people aren’t your biggest demographic.

Welcome to being a fucking sellout.  Congrats.

TRANSITION

I’ve been in Hawaii for two weeks.  I have no way to tell you how much things have changed other than to say:  I am happy more often.  It hasn’t been easy.  It won’t be easy.  I’m losing money left and right, but if I invest in not dying, is it money lost?  What I can say is that I forgot how adaptable, resilient, intelligent, and hardworking I was.  I forgot I had value.  And, yes, I have value.  Not a lot, but I remembered how powerful of a weapon I can be for good. 

But anyway, that’s fine.  It’s all fine.  Onward and upward. 

Nick