A wiser man than me once said that you only get one chance to make a good first impression. So this is it, that one chance and I hope I don't blow it. I'm not really all that fond of talking about myself, because there's really not all that much to tell. I'm not especially smart, strong, brave, or super-powered. I don't come from a dimension of dragons or dreamers or anthropomorphic dogs or anything. I'm just a college student, struggling to make a living slinging coffee and working on the future success of my band. Oh, and I'm short - I didn't mention that, did I? I'm 5'4", kinda on the skinny side, too. I have this girl - well, I will have this girl, if all goes well. Her name is Jenny. Jenny works with me at the coffee shop, and she's got this way about her that's kinda like a mundane sort of magic. The way her hands move when she shakes a teabag (she doesn't drink coffee, either), the way her smile seems to change the mood of the whole damn room. She's beautiful, and she's got this jerk of a boyfriend who doesn't deserve her.
You should know, also, about my bandmates - Mac and Jules. Jules is in his early twenties like me, and we went to high school together. He hasn't quite forgiven me yet for going off to California and having a nervous breakdown after graduation. See, I didn't go directly to college. First there was this whole ... California thing. I don't talk about that often. Anyhow, there was this one time when we were pretty drunk after a show, and Jules and I wound up making out like rabid wolverines in the parking lot. I mean, it was really kind of surreal and wild. It hadn't happened before, and it hasn't happened since, and we don't really talk about it. I'm not even sure if he remembers it, but I do.
Mac's full name is Ian McKenzie, and he's 34, so he's the wisdom of our group. He's got a kid, too - a daughter that he doesn't see all that often because her mother moved all the way the hell out to Wisconsin. And we're from Perinthus NY, so he doesn't see her all that much. See, I told you I'm not good at talking about myself - here I go all out of order like that. That should have been the beginning. Let's pretend that it was, alright? Let's pretend I told you that my name is Michael Malone, and I hail from Perinthus, NY. Well, at least recently. Before that there was Hoboken and before that (and after that, but before Perinthus) there was California, but we don't talk about California, agreed?
My old man still lives in Hoboken - he moved us there after my mother left. Maybe I should have started this introduction there, but then you might feel sorry for me, and that's not what this is about. Sure, my mother left us when I was 14, but we did alright enough without her. And if she hadn't sent me that postcard with the freaking sombrero-wearing dog, from Mexico, on my 17th birthday - I might have never learned to play guitar. But I don't think that's important to this introduction.
Really, I think I've gone and blown my first impression. So let's say this is the second one, okay? Right now, let me just tell you that I don't relate all that well to people, or to the circumstances of my own life - but I'm trying. That's what's important here, that I'm reaching out - and hoping that someone, or something, reaches back.
Hello - I'm Michael Malone. I'm very pleased to meet you.
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Comments: 15
Great, great introduction here.
I think the irony of feeling an outsider -- a bit less than everyone else, not quite like everyone else, is that by far, that's the majority of people. I recall back in high school, a fellow student came up to me and said, "Look, Karl, you don't belong to any cliques and I don't either. We should make up our own clique!" I nodded at the absurdity and said, "Yeah, sure, we'll call it individualists unite." I don't recall if Bob had gotten my irony but I do recall that we did not make up our own clique.
The point being, I believe, that most of human beings at one time or another feel like a stranger in a strange land, not quite round enough for the round hole and an not quite square enough for the square hole.
"We walk this path alone, will all others," to quote one of my characters.
I like the rambling and babbling of Michael. The voice is authentic; the voice is about as real as it gets. He's conscious of himself, yet naive in that consciousness. He's terribly afraid of what 'we' might think, yet he's unafraid of who he is and how he wears his skin and the history he drags behind him.
You, Ms. Cushing, capture well what it means to be a human being.
Note: Were you aware that 'Michael' means: He who is like God, or He who speaks for God?
Anyway, it's a style I really like.
Darcey D.