Chad would never have become a concert pianist.
He could have become a decent amateur and had a ton of fun. He could have been the one to accompany his high school classmates who were blessed with better singing voices than his own. He could have been the one that helped the church group of carolers practice so that the majority were singing something close enough to melodies that they would brighten someone’s evening on Wisconsin yuletide evenings. He might have even switched to a synthesizer and been part of a local garage band.
Chad had a decent ear, and pretty good coordination, but not much patience. He would never have become a concert pianist. But he might have had more fun with music that he did with football.
Chad’s dad Chad (Senior) had never let him find out. Chad’s dad Chad had played high school football. He had barely made the varsity squad and never started the game. He came in to sub a few times late in the game when the outcome was no longer in doubt. Over the passage of time and attendant years, tears, and beers, when Chad (Senior) had replayed these games, his role in them grew considerably. He watered his lies with repetition and beer, later supplemented with a shot of Jack Daniels. Or two. Or three.
When Chad (Junior) was born, Chad (Senior) was understandably proud and pleased that he had had a son. While his wife Claire took care of the cooking, cleaning, diaper changes and such, Chad (Senior) began the long process of teaching his son to be a pro footballer. His first present to Chad Junior was not a mobile or a cloth book, but a small, blue rubber football. Chad Senior saw in Chad Junior a chance to fulfill his own dreams of being a star.
As the years went on, he enrolled Chad Junior in various programs to teach football. Chad Junior was a decent catcher and a pretty fast runner. Whereas Chad Senior had neither of those advantages, he had grown up to be large and muscular. Even as a Freshmen, the head football coach at Big Bluff High had thought, Now there’s a hunk of meat to beef up our line! Chad Senior had the body of an offensive lineman, but he could not seem to memorize and then enact the plays. An even worse problem was that he couldn’t seem to control his anger and direct it at solely at the players on the opposing team. He got plenty angry during play, but it was anyone’s guess where that anger would be directed. The coach couldn’t predict and neither could Chad Senior. He quickly became a decent blocker, but couldn’t resist grabbing any defensive player he could reach. Worse, he never got the hang of hiding his illegal holding. It was always so outrageously obvious that he invariably incurred a penalty. When that happened, he loudly blamed the officials, his coach, and his teammates.
The coach tried switching him to defense, but that didn’t work out any better. He couldn’t memorize offensive plays but he had an uncanny knack for running after and tackling someone who did not have the ball. His impatience and low tolerance for frustration made him a much less desirable footballer than his six foot three, two hundred and fifty pound frame promised. But it was in the classroom where Chad Senior’s anger and impatience hurt him even more. His idea of studying was to twist the arms of his classmates till he got the answers to homework assignments and then guess when it came to exams. His on field behavior led to his being benched most of his Sophomore and Junior Year. But by the time his Senior year rolled around, he lost his eligibility and didn’t play at all.
So, when Chad Senior asked Chad Junior how Freshman football tryouts were going and Chad Junior replied that he was doing okay but that he’d rather join the band and learn how to play the piano instead, Chad Senior felt betrayed by life itself. Circuits buzzed and crackled in his brain. What the F—- was the point of having a F—ing kid and teaching them to play F—-ing football if the F—-ing kid didn’t even want to play? That’s what Chad Senior’s subconscious was screaming though Chad Senior didn’t hear that scream out loud. It was drowned out by his vocal chords screaming at his only son.
“No son of mine is going to be a homo! No possible way! You’re playing football and no way are you playing some sissy music instrument and especially not the piano!”
Chad Junior frowned. He thought: What does playing music have to do with sexual orientation? But he had long ago learned not to question Dad Chad’s thought trains which generally resembled, not trains speeding a long a track so much as squirrels stoned on cocaine and hash jerking all over the highway so randomly one couldn’t tell whether they were desperately trying to throw themselves beneath the spinning black wheels of death or desperately trying to avoid those wheels of death. In any case, Chad Junior felt his heart sink.
It wasn’t that Chad Junior had had his heart set on a career in music. It was more that he had his heart set on getting to know Jennifer Banning better. Jennifer of the long blond hair and endless blue kaleidoscopic eyes loved music. When their music teacher, Mister Thomas, played music, Jennifer invariably closed her eyes. This gave Chad a chance to pretend to close his eyes too. Jennifer seemed to be watching a light show or fireworks display in her own brain. Chad, in turn, watched Jennifer which, to him, was better than a drone show, a fireworks display, and a magic show combined.
Chad Junior had planned to become a good piano player mainly to impress Jennifer and to spend another hour a day in band practice with her. Speaking of practice, Junior had spent many hours learning to keep his face expressionless during lectures. It didn’t prevent all beatings but it minimized them. While Chad Senior droned on about the ever-more epic fantasy of his “spectacular” football career and harangued Chad Junior about this, that, and Jesus and the importance of being somebody and making money and learning how to be a man, by God, Chad Junior practiced mental arithmetic. He began with two, doubled it to four, doubled that to eight and so on. He played a little contest with himself to see how far he could get before some deeply hidden circuit breaker in Chad Senior’s brainstem at last turned off the flow of norepinephrine in time to prevent a stroke or heart attack.
At last, Chad Senior’s arpeggios of anger ended. “Well, Junior? What do you have to say for yourself?!”
Junior had just begun to double 4,294,967,296 when he realized it was his turn to say something. “I never thought of it that way, Dad. Thanks.” When he heard himself, it sounded so insincere and so pat that he feared it might actually trigger another outburst of verbal or physical abuse. But Dad Chad took it all at face value. He took most things at face value because digging deeper took too much patience.
“Listen, Junior, trust me, football’s a lot more fun than music, for Christ’s sake. You’ll thank me later. You’ll see. Chicks dig footballers. You need to get more meat on your bones though. Weight training. That’s what you need.”
“Gee, Dad. Coach Andrews told me almost the same thing in history class last year. I guess you’re right.”
Chad Junior had first become interested in powers when, as a third grader, he happened upon a book called something like “Powers of Ten” and it zoomed from a woman getting a tan out to the edges of the universe and in to the innermost workings of the atom. A few years later, as he was learning chess, he happened to hear a story about a rich King who was cured of “ague” whatever that was by one of his Court Jesters and as a reward, he offered to give the Jester anything at all. The Court Jester said, “I am but a poor man and my tastes are simple. If you could simply give me rice that I can share with my family, that would be more than enough. How about this: Tomorrow give me one grain of rice on this first square of the chessboard. On the day after, two grains on the next square and so on, doubling the number each time.”
The King had thought the Court Jester was indeed a fool to settle for something so cheap and simple. And, for the first week, everything went fine, but soon the King was scrambling to meet the requirement. He arranged to have the Court Jester slip and fall off the castle wall long before his kingdom was destroyed.
Chad Junior had learned many lessons from this one story. First, he learned that Kings can be stupidly short-sighted. Second, he learned the power of doubling. Third, he learned that greed can get you killed. Fourth, he learned that sometimes, when everything looked bleak, violence could solve your problem. He stored these learnings away and only occasionally brought one off the shelf to ponder it more closely.
Chad Junior joined the football team, lifted weights, and found that Dad Chad was right about one thing, Girls really did go for the football team. Many did. Not Jennifer though. Not Jennifer. Who knows whether things might have turned out differently if Chad Junior had studied piano and had years of band practice with Jennifer. Perhaps. Perhaps not. We’ll never really know.
But Chad Junior compulsively played one game of “What If” after the other. His addictions reinforced each other and grew harder to shake. The addictions were no longer his addictions. Rather the addictions owned him. The idea began as a small poppy seed of hope, of life, of taking control in his otherwise dark, cheerless, choiceless world. The idea grew to a plan and then a small set of plans. Then a network of plans. Along with the exponential growth of these plans, so too, his motivation to carry them out also doubled and redoubled. He dusted off Internet memes and the morals of the many stories he had read such as the King with a rice problem.
Chad Junior had not originally planned to join Dad Chad, but “The Plan” had developed a life-force of its own; one that owned Chad Junior.
Both inquests officially concluded death by suicide.
Half right is perhaps the best we can hope for. After all, even Ted Williams didn’t bat .500
——————-
The Winning Weekend Warrior focuses on the mental game for all sports using examples from tennis, golf, baseball, and other sports. It covers self-talk, imagery, mental practice, strategy, tactics, & sportsmanship. http://tinyurl.com/ng2heq3
Turing’s Nightmares explores the implications and ethics of Artificial Intelligence through fictional short stories. http://tinyurl.com/hz6dg2d
Fit in Bits shows many ways to put more fun, variety, & exercise into daily chores and habits to help with strength, flexibility, fitness, and balance. http://tinyurl.com/h6c7fce
Tales from an American Childhood recounts early experiences mainly in the American Midwest in the 1950’s and relates them to contemporary issues and events. https://tinyurl.com/y9ajvz9j
Dream Planet. Where do you run when the whole world is crumbling under the weight of human folly? When the lethal Conformers invade 22nd century Pittsburgh, escape becomes the top priority for lovebird scavengers Alex and Eva.
https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-planet-david-thomas/1148566558
How the Nightingale Learned to Sing
