Thorofare - Susan Minot


















Susan Minot – December 7, 1956 -
It’s impossible it seems to read so many short stories in a compacted period of time, and during such an emotionally charged section of my life, that I wouldn’t seem to think that I was encountering a solid theme emerging from the American Short Story.
I have encountered the “difficult pregnancy” story – (hasn’t helped with my thoughts on our own pregnancy).
The disabled child story (again, toying with my emotions during this time)
The single parent (my father and his struggle with Alzheimer’s...added to the feelings that most kids of the 70s and 80s have towards their father’s who left their family).
The unfaithful spouse (thankfully I can’t draw a “real life” parallel here!).
And finally, death and its impact on the family – no surprise here –
I seem to have come across quite a few of these stories in The Best American Short Stories collections.
Where is my parallel?
Well, I have both a step-father, a father and mother that all seem to be fixated on death – more pointedly, their death.
Discussions surrounding the health of my step-father and his continued time with us have also included the discussion of what we as a family will do when it’s his time to go. That discussion then turns to a discussion with my mother about what she wants to happen to her after she dies.
Then I have my father who obsesses during our visits with him about his long walk down death’s road with Alzheimer’s.
So, I encounter Thorofare and think “oh shit, another death story”.
I wholeheartedly agree that the story should have been included in the anthology. It’s a wonderful story.
It just came at a very sensitive time in my life.
A time where I have two fathers rounding out their lives while at the same time, M and I are preparing to bring another life into this world.
What I take away from this story is not the message of the story...but the timing that it appeared in my life. I could have read this story two years ago and it would not have had the impact that it did when I read it a couple of weeks ago.
Which makes me think – did Updike choose his stories based on the mood he was in that particular year, or was his selections made out of his ability to really recognize quality writing?
Possibly a little of both.
Everyday when we climb out of bed and stumble into the bathroom, piss, and then make our way downstairs to make our coffee – we are opening the book of our day.
We have no clue of the author or the work that we are about to encounter.
Just chalk this up as another reason why I love this anthology.

Morrison’s Reaction – Stephen Kirk



Stephen Kirk -???

We’ve all come up against individuals who refuse to take advice.

Yup – advice.

I really don’t like that word – well, not the word exactly – but the action associated with the word.

I am very conscious of not giving advice. This is difficult for me because of my background but I have found that in life, people don’t usually like to receive it and they don’t appreciate it when it’s given (there are plenty of people out there willing to give advice).

There were cases in my past where I have offered my opinion for the well being of the individuals involved...and to not have the opinion respected or even considered...well, that was quite frustrating.

I have also been on the receiving end of advice and I out of my desire to keep the flow of life smooth, I have mostly heeded all advice given. (I also attempt to place myself into situations where I don’t need someone to give me advice...that helps the entire situation).

So – my advice...don’t give it, just receive it.

The Artificial Moonlight – Donald Justice




Donald Justice - August 12, 1925 - August 6, 2004

During the period of my life when I would have developed the friendships and connections that the characters in this story shared, I was busy wasting time in my life.

I had a pretty solid base, actually, a very solid base, of friends that I made in college, but as college friends usually do, we scattered ourseleves across the country.

These friends were made during a shared struggle. The friendships served their purpose, and actually, I think that there would only be a couple of guys that I would classify as “true friends” that came out of those 4 years.

After leaving school, I bumbled around and didn’t create any lasting friendships.

I had not yet discovered the direction that my life need to move in and I was attempting to live out all of the experiences that I missed in college (sow my wild oats).

Would I trade that time?

Simply – no.

Soon, I realized that I need to get my act together, I found myself in another country where I was isolated not only by geography but my language and culture.

I made friends and even met my wife - but again, – nothing like the characters in the story.

Later - For the past ten years – back in the States, work has kept me busy during the days, and socializing with people during non work hours outside of my family is something that I really haven’t done.

Looking at myself from about 1,000 feet, I can see that I have chosen a small circle of people to really care about.

I have seen them grow and develop over the years, and I continue to be amazed by the transformations of their lives.

This atmosphere that I have created for myself is one that allows me a bit of weightlessness.

I am living a happy life. Those closest to me are happy with me, and I with them- ...after all, this is all that matters – right?

Inexorable Progress – Mary Hood



Mary Hood - September 16, 1946

You pass people everyday who are fighting it. People at your place of work, school in your neighborhood store or at your place of worship. A black clawing menace that if not brought under control will push them to death.

It’s scary man...really scary.

You think you know someone... and then well, it’s too late.

And what’s even more frightening, is that some people are really good at hiding their internal struggle until it’s too late.

Their actions take everyone by surprise and lay waste to the conscience of those who thought they knew.

You see, no one really knows another.

There is so much hidden within us all.

We do a wonderful job of giving the world an image that we feel it wants from us.

We let it down for a select few – our parents, siblings, spouses or really good friends...but, I honestly believe that there is a little bit within each of us that never makes it to the surface – a little bit that we keep hidden within our selves.

Out of shame.

Mary Hood does a wonderful job in a difficult format – the short story, to present the everywoman – and the disturbing turn her life takes as she wrestles with her black clawing menace – and sadly the inability to find relief through suicide when she is brought back by the hands of our society to face the evils within her once again.

Her character saw a door, an escape.

We all have so many difficulties in our lives. This world that we live in is tough.

But of all those difficulties that we face, how many are created by us?

Magnified by us to a point where sane management is out of our reach?

Modern medicine has allowed us to disguise so many things about ourselves. Mental illness and sexual dysfunction are right up there at the top for Americans.

The number of Americans popping Soma pills daily to make it through their lives is incredible.

Do they need the pills?

Sure they do.

Do they abuse the pills?

Sure they do.

They are human aren’t they?

Why wouldn’t they?

This is our world – their reality.

A Brief Intermission

It's easy to sidetrack me. Over the last few Christmases, I have asked for the latest volume of BASS. I can't help but dive into t...