Thundercats, Samuel Jackson, & Me


Today I went to the post office. There was a boy. He swung his shoelace against the guard rail. It wrapped around the pole. His mother got upset. She screamed his name. She looked at the father.

"You know why he's whipping that around?"

"Why?"

"It's because of that Tigra - no, Lion-o from Thundercats, using that whip. That's why he's swinging things around."

"Hmph," the father crosses his arms and looks at the boy. "You want a whip?"

"Yeah."

"You want me to get you a whip?"

"Yeah, I want a whip."

The boy makes whipping sounds with his mouth. He runs to his mother.

"Mom, can I have a whip?"

"Who's going to get it for you?"

"Um...Daddy!"

"Why do you want a whip?"

"I want to be invisible."

"You want me to say, 'Where is Terrence? What happened to Terrence?' "

"Yeah," Terrence giggles and runs under the guard rail.

I don't say a word a word. I address my packages. I get a call. It's the Volkswagon dealer. His rates are too high.

"You paying for these?" the attendant points at the envelopes.

"Yeah," I say, hanging up the phone. "But I need a zip code."

He looks up the code. I pay for my postage and head back to work.

I don't expect a call from Samuel Jackson. I get one though. He tells me to "get my butt to the theater." I figure I better listen. He just made my day. My dad's too. I send him the message after I get it. We have a good laugh about it.

"Anybody call you today, dad?"

"Oh, yes," he says. "I get a call from this actor."

"Samuel Jackson."

"Yes, this guy! He is very serious."

"Did you listen to it?"

"Yes."

"I personalized it. Didn't you hear? It said, 'Stop messing with your computers and take your son to the theater.' "

"Yes, it is something," my father laughs.

"I sent it to Paiman too. He called me up and was like, 'Dude, I just got a call from Samuel Jackson.' "

"Oh, that is so funny!"

"Yeah...oh, hold on dad, that's Paiman calling."

"Okay, I see you."

"Yeah, dad. Talk to you soon."

I talk to Paiman. I buy a salad at the grocery store. I walk around my street looking at cars. Hardad, my neighbor from upstairs, takes an interest in my search.

"Dude, you don't want a used car."

"I don't."

"No, man. I don't recommend a used car to anyone."

"Why?"

"Because you don't know who was the previous owner. And if the previous owner was someone like me, forget it! That car is no good, bro."

I laugh.

"I'm serious, man. A new car is the way to go."

"I don't know. I need a computer too. I was looking at getting something used."

"I can help you with that. Just let me know, bro. My cousins sell used cars. I can get you a good, reliable used car for 5,000. If you do 2,000 down it'll be," Art pulls out his calculator, "270 a month."

He puts away the calculator,"That's if you got a good credit score."

"I don't."

"Okay, well, I know these guys. I can talk to them. I'll say you live near me. You're not going anywhere. That's it. Whenever you want to go, bro, just-"

A smoking, hot girl passes by on the street. It takes Hardad awhile to say anything as he waits for her to come past a van into plain sight again.

I laugh.

"Did you see that girl, man?" Hardad whispers.

"Yeah," I say. "She was beautiful."

"Hey!" Hardad yells after her. "You made me forget what I was saying."

She doesn't reply.

"Oh, man," Hardad frowns. "She didn't say anything."

I watch her walk up the block.

"She must not be into white boys," Hardad says to me.

"It's dark," I say. "She's alone. She doesn't know you. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"Sure," I say. "For a woman alone at this time of night in L.A."

"I don't know, man. I've never been able to mess with black chicks. I don't know, man. It's something about me."

"Well, everyone has their own tastes."

"That's true, bro."

"I have friends who will only date Asian girls. That's all they like."

"Oh, Asians are smoothe, man. No hair. I've had two. Real smooth. Then if they let it grow it's like a hairy bush."

I smile. I look at the moon. Hardad looks too. It's the second day. She's very bright and big. She almost looks like she's leaning over us, waiting to say something. Hardad beats her to it though. He's got calls to make.

"Alright, man, I got to make my calls." "

"Alright," I say.

"Give me a call about the car. I get off around 7."

"Okay," I say. "Thanks for helping."

"No problem, bro. This is what I do,"

Hardad smiles. He flips open his cell. He walks down the block; his voice loud in the night.

I pick up my sidewalk chair and power drink. I carry them to the complex. My sweat pants fall to my knees. I let them dangle for awhile, trying to make a couple more steps to the door. I stop when they get to my ankle. I put down the chair and yank them up with my free hand.



2 comments:

Anonymous said...

victory, your days? victory. Come on. Elegance. You're accepted! Are you just tending the crops now? Sorry for the demands man, but i read this. Parallel exsistance man! I'll settle for what you got, 'cause what you got gets you what your wants got you thinkin you need. Bleed some prose i want. Drip the words. Fact or fiction or a fraction of a faction, jones. i don't wanna see no 'feed me Seymour'.

I want an all out, gunz blazing, war torn devastation filled world where you WRiTE positivity into the madness.

we know it's there.

in war there are small pockets of peace and in peace there are crimes being commited at all times.

So long as it's beautiful the gratefull can share the joy felt by their half, man.

GET THAT.

then gimme it.

Pirooz M. Kalayeh said...

I love hearing from fans, and sometimes I am able to bring certain sensibilities to a piece. On other days, I may not. If you find yourself wanting, may I suggest 3 options.

1. Purchase one of my works.
2. Find another writer who meets your needs.
3. Write what you desire yourself.

-OR-

4. Commission a piece from me.

If you are seeking post apocalyptic prose with war, devastation, and humor commingled together, you can purchase the first 7 issues of Ellipsis, which has my novel, The Whopper Strategies, in it. It may touch on those sensibilities, which you desire.

There are also other writers whose specialty is 'post apocalyptic madness' such as Saul Bellow, Richard Brautigan, and Kurt Vonnegut. These guys might be just what you're looking for.

If not, then it is possible you could create the world you desire.

Most of my books have been created out of a craving to read a particular style of work that wasn’t available to me, so I created them. This is a possible option for you, if you're heart leads you in that direction.

My heart beats according to my tastes and needs. I will honor these and be grateful when others can find joy in my creative works.

That being said, I am still open to commissioned projects for the right price. Below you will find a brief listing of prices. These prices are negotiable and dependent on time, feasibility, and nature of the project.

----------------------------------------

-A story of 1500 words where I retain full copyright or photocopied zine with pics would be $300-500.

-If you would like a novel with only prose, that would be considerably higher. I would need time off from work and research materials. My guesstimate would be that it would take about 2 months to complete, and as I make $4,000 a month in television, I would request $8,000, plus $500 for research, and then my personal wear and tear of $2000-$3000, putting us in the ballpark of $10,000 for a novel without illustrations where I retain full copyright.

[If you would like first rights and have means of publication, I would consider doing the job for $8500, as long as I get full rights after publication.]

-If you would like a screenplay or want to own film rights to a book, you can option works for a minimum of $25,000 for 6 months- 1 year, but if you don't make a sale within the allotted time, all rights and selling options would revert back to me.

-Paintings are dependent on canvas size. For the sake of creating a round figure, lets say a small piece (smaller than 20x20) would be in the neighborhood of $500, while larger pieces can be anywhere in the range of $850 and up.

------------------------------------------

As far as blog writing, I write for myself and to connect with community, friends, family, and fans. I have not ever done commissioned posts for money, and I don't think I will on Shikow.

If you want something short (comic, story, painting, mp3, poem) I've already completed for a webzine, small press, or compilation, I am totally open to helping out. Just let me know what you want, and I usually do these for FREE as long as I retain rights.

I am also open to helping charities and non-profits, and would make deductions depending on need and personal discretion.

But, yeah, requested works are going to take money. I am open to it, but it's like screen writing, it will cost a pretty penny.

Thanks for your graciousness, Mickey G.

Some of this may be outside the realm of what you expected, but I am informing other readers as well as yourself (who have made or will make similar queries) of the possibilties which are available. Hopefully, I’ve given all of you avenues that will meet your needs and desires.

I wish you the best in your endeavors.

P.