First of March

My mind has been running laps this past week and stress has been beating down on my shoulders. I’m walking myself through the don’t worry, it will all work out speech over and over, but I would be lying if I did not state these things.

I would also be holding back if I did not mention the soft tears that filled my eyes and laid to rest with me a few nights back before I finally had my rendezvous with the sandman. For a moment my mind desired the comfort of man to entertain me and my loneliness, boredom if you will. (And I am not speaking about sex.) But I collected myself to know better and to figure the problem would go in just a couple hours and that I would wish greatly for that same gentleman to remove his presence from my space. I’m selfish. I’ve never denied that and I truly hope one day to overcome it.

I’ve been testing the sounds of AOL’s classical station. Right now a pleasing romantic piano drifts from the speakers. The musician is Robert Schumann. The title of the track to complicated to get into at this hour.

Anyhow these things are all fine, but they are bland as well. My weekend was a lovely one. I started things out Friday night by checking out the Tribal Style and Bad Fish show at the State Theater in St. Pete. I caught the last two songs of TS performance and left early during the Bad Fish show. I had to get up early and I was swinging solo, so I wanted to get up outta St. Pete ASAP!

Another cool thing that night – I get a call from a Marcus Washington in North Carolina. I don’t know anyone in N.C., but I guess I do now. Herman located him just a couple days before I received his phone call and he is new long lost family. Another cousin to be exact, but I won’t get into the nitty gritty. The coolest part about his phone call is he tells he has a 13 year old daughter and her name is exactly like mine – Adrienne Wilson. A miny me – I already know. We must meet!

Alas, Saturday morning rolls on in and I’m back in the driver’s seat early. D got in from Asia so I picked him up and dropped him off at home. I quickly headed back to my house where I changed, grabbed my things, and mom and me hit the open road. There was an open interview for a spring break promotion going on in Panama City and I thought it would make a great day trip to go up. Mom went along for the ride and also to swing through Alabama where we would visit some close long time friends.

The interview with Kelly went pretty smooth – I should know more on that over the next week or so. After Panama City the drive into Enterprise, Alabama was a quickie.

Before we went to the Jones we swung by the old house at 603 Melbourne Drive. Whoever lives there now must have been having one hell of a party as there were 20 something cars in the drive way and street. We were tempted to pull that “we used to live here, can we take a look around (or just crash your party)” line so often used in the movies. I think they were all Officers, or most.

It was great seeing my best friend and her little girl Kamira. Kamira is not the ordinary two year old. She is very smart and gives you the ice grill before warming up to ya. Afterwards she’ll show you her Lord’s prayer doll and toss it across the room before she goes to grab another show-and-tell item. She is just the cutest! And the way my mother looked at her – I could tell she is ready for some grand kids of her own. Guess she’ll have to work something out with my brother.

Anyhow, here are a couple snaps from the affair.

The Princess Kamira after two hours of the ice grill we get a smile.

Starlette (my best friend’s younger sis), a confused Kamira, my glowing self, and Latofia, my bestest friend.

We left early in the morning again. It rained the entire six hours down and I drove so the rive wouldn’t become eight hours. Mum gets a little shaky driving the old girl in the rain. I also reached the 150,000 mile mark on the car – so that was pretty groovy! Somebody get the champagne!

I’ll be back in Panama City and Enterprise in the next two weeks. I already have one promotion booked for an NCAA event after the AutoShow in Motion in O-Town. I’ll just be waiting to find out if I’ll be working out of Panama City a bit longer.

Hmm… I guess that would be about it now. I do want to take a moment to remember someone very special to me and if you stick around it would be appreciated. On our drive up we passed by some stands that sparked some very touching memories for me. I’d like to share one now.

“Brother Bonsai”

There are questions when asked that make us shudder and send a cold feeling of having to remember a pain that once passed over again. For me, that question happens to be:

“Have you any siblings?” or “So are you the only child?” or maybe even “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”

Simply, I respond one brother, though the truth is a far stretch from this. I had another brother, but he is no longer with us and the timing for which he passed was all part of a very important year in my time line.

I was 10 years old then and quiet a few things happened that year.

* I became a woman. (Or now obtained the wonderful ability to make babies of my own.)
* The moron at the military ID office spilled all the beans not to mention let all the skeletons and bats out of the closet. Mother then had some splainin’ to do.
* My brother’s turtle Cory who I had grown quite affectionate for was murdered by a local dog, who tortured him before letting the flies have their way with him. (Hardcore when you are ten.)
* My uncle Gregory got to find his way to Heaven before us all.

It was also the year my father brought my adopted brother home. I remember the day like yesterday.

He shuffled us all into room. He was wearing a huge grin, bigger than one I had seen him sport so many other times, so whatever this was going to be about – it had to have been BIG!

He started by saying there would be a new addition in the family. No matter how foreign or different he would be, to welcome him into the family. To give him the same love that we’d given each other. My brother was almost in tears as his status as the ‘baby’ was being replaced.

I was excited! A new sibling! I couldn’t wait. I was sure my father had gone and plucked a little Cambodian boy for us to play with and corrupt all the same! He left the room only for a second before he returned with a tiny potted tree.

Bonsai. My new baby bro was a Bonsai tree. I thought my dad was kidding at first and that they threw the tree in for the little Japanese boy, Hiro somewhere outside in the hallway.

My father was serious as he was ecstatic. And so it rubbed off on us all. I got used to Bonsai being around even though he wasn’t much fun to play with. He was still my brother.

Bad things happen to good people as much as they do good, rollie pollies minding their own business under rocks, good sharks being bothered by surfers and even good Bonsai’s who aren’t taken care of properly.

My mother killed Bonsai. It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know how to care for a potted minature tree and Bonsai wasn’t really supposed to be a house tree. A very dark cloud sat over the house that day.

It must have been the early binary coding God pasted into the divorce my parents would have many years later. It was all apart of that apples and oranges don’t mix or potatoes and tomatoes. Okay, that one isn’t real, but you get the picture.

It was driving up into the outskirts of Alabama that brought Brother Bonsai racing into mind. And I wouldn’t give up that memory for nothing.

A. Wilson

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