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April 28, 2023

3 Micros

Jeffrey Hermann

Facts About Tom Brady

The Super Bowl is coming up. It’s also in the past. They do it again and again like the Multiverse so everyone gets a chance to miss the winning field goal. Like a lot of people, I love nachos. But I'm making nachos right now so that’s not a representative sample of what I love to eat or what I’m like as a person. In bed at night, I worry a lot. First about money, then about my teeth. In his study at night, my Rabbi reads a lot. He’s wrestling with the big ideas. It’s a close game. Twice in my life men have told me to memorize sports statistics in case I need to make conversation with other men. When I turned seven I got a tennis racket for my birthday and I used it to dig holes in the yard. I put some worms in a jar with dirt. At that age children find out about their five hearts then slice them in half. Maybe because pain is the most abundant substance in every existence. Or maybe we just like to dream of doubling our lives.

 

See What I Mean, Jellybean?

Where I grew up all the piano teachers knew each other–a recipe for corruption. When I turned 16 and wanted a job it was the car wash or picking up dog shit at the vet. I followed my heart and chose the shit. To get credit in high school remedial English we could choose a paperback book, do a crossword, or complete “the project.” To complete the project, cut a story out of the newspaper and glue it in your log. Underline the main idea. Circle three words you didn’t know and had to look up. Congenital. Eviscerate. Bridle. Today I’m drawn to fields of study with boundless possibilities. I remember the donut shop on Main Street looked like a 24-hour place, but it closed at 4 o’clock. Just one reason I never liked that town.

 

I Repeat, Not a False Alarm

Today’s the day my wife and I need to pick out new dishes. She hopes they are pretty, but not too delicate. I hope they are blue. I hope they know when to serve us warm meals and when to serve us cold meals. I hope no one ever throws one against the floor in anger. I hope they break the regular way. Am I breaking in a regular way or do I need to see someone? There’s a box on the front porch I’m afraid to open. I expect it contains something that will ask me to be something I don’t feel like being. When I cut the tape and open the lid, I find ingredients for one of the five mother sauces. I warm them up and the flavors marry. They make a vow. Just then the phone rings. Probably someone calling to remind me the world is free to fall apart. I don’t answer. Just then the phone rings. It’s someone calling to remind me the world is free to fall apart, so I pick it up