Aquaman and Angela's Ashes

I enjoyed a book called Angela’s Ashes a few months ago. It had been on my list of books to read because it was so highly acclaimed but I kept skipping over it for YEARS. Here’s a description:

A 1996 memoir by the Irish-American author Frank McCourt, detailing his strict Irish-Catholic childhood in Brooklyn, New York. It includes his struggles with poverty and his father’s alcoholism during his life in Limerick, Ireland during the Great Depression.

Depressing AND boring, right?? I probably avoided it for a long time because it did not sound good. It took place during the Great Depression. Depressing. And how interesting could a book about Irish-Catholics be? “We went to confession and took communion and then we frowned at each other for the rest of the gloomy day.”

Sidebar: Does this make me a racist? It was just my first thought that an Irish Catholic person during the Great Depression would be very boring. I think I don’t know any Irish-Catholic people….yet. I hope he/she will be engaging and interesting when we eventually do meet. I promise you, friends, that I will give this individual in my future a chance and I will not be a jerk.

OK, now back to the scheduled programming.

I don’t need any help from a book to be depressed and bored, thankyouverymuch. But this book turned out to be delightful. It is told from the perspective of a young boy making his way through a really tough life. This boy is clever and resilient and more than a little bit naughty. I loved reading his story!

The way this little guy comprehends his world made me laugh. You know the way little kids try to understand adult things but get it mostly wrong and it’s adorable? Like how my Chris used to call hummingbirds “honey birds” for the longest time and I never corrected him?

After gobbling up his book, I found out more about the author of this memoir. Frank McCourt grew up in Ireland and immigrated to the US in the 1950s, earned his doctorate degree, and became an English teacher.

Then I was linked to the reviews of this Pulitzer Prize-winning novel that sold more than five million copies. Not every reader was pleased. To my surprise, many people from the town of Limerick, Ireland were not happy with the way their town was depicted. Some of the people he grew up with called him an outright liar. Actually “a miserable liar.”

Dr. McCourt was criticized for stretching the truth and profiting from a new genre called "Mis-lit" or "Misery Memoirs."

It didn’t actually surprise me at all to learn that the book is not factual. It’s a memoir after all, not a history book. (Not that history books are necessarily factual either, but that’s another discussion.) A memoir is an account of an experience from one person’s perspective.

But this got me thinking about the inescapability of criticism. I often feel worried about putting my writing out into the world. On the one hand, I am so hungry to truly be known and understood. But on the other hand, how many of you will be repulsed or totally weirded out when you read about what’s REALLY going on in my twisted head?

Lots of people had mean things to say about Angela’s Ashes. So who am I to think that I am above criticism or that I will be able to avoid it? Heck, if it’s good enough for Oprah, it’s good enough for me.”

So I'm trying to loosen up the overachiever in me to remember that not every post has to be a greatest hit. I’m thinking of Jason Momoa, of course. Because…..

Of course.

Jason and I have much in common, namely our broad shoulders and spectacular wavy, brown hair. One major difference is that he has approximately 800% more eyebrows and infinity more tattoos than I do. But other than that, we're basically twins.

Jason starred in Conan the Barbarian about a decade ago back in 2011. Even though Jason is shirtless for most of the movie, it still flopped and currently has a 25% rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

In contrast, I get to keep my shirt on while writing most days, and this blog doesn’t even cost close to $90 million to produce most weeks. After all “we’re not millionaires.” (That’s an Angela’s Ashes joke.)

So even though I have to buckle myself up a bit for criticism, I’m learning to let it slide off my backside……where I’ll sit on it until it quiets down and stops bothering me.

 

And as for flopping, Jason and I will pull our magical hair back into a stunning man-bun and just handle it.

I really appreciate you coming back Fus-day after Fus-day, my friends. Have you read Angela’s Ashes? What was your favorite part?

Thank you for reading!

The Thirsty Rose and the Happy Horse

Photo credit: Through My Lens Photography

 

This 8-year-old kid named Dillon from Boise, ID wanted his book to be in the library so badly that he sneaked it onto the library shelf WITHOUT GOING THROUGH THE MANDATORY CATALOGING PROCESS.

True Library Crime!

The book is called The Adventures of Dillon Helbig’s Crismis by Dillon Helbig His Self. It is an 81-page illustrated story about a moose, time travel, and pilgrims among other things.

Spoiler Alert: Dillon’s favorite part of the book is when he (his self) gets eaten by a giant turkey and then gets pooped out of its butt in the forest.

A librarian found the book on the shelf one day. The librarian’s name is Paige. Not even kidding. When I was pregnant with Alex, a friend of mine suggested that I name him “Doctor.” Why? So that he would always get respect. Because he would always be introduced as “Doctor Fu.”

True Chinese priorities.

So Paige put Dillon’s book into the lost and found until Dillon’s mom called to get the book back. The librarians were so enamored with this book that they gave the book this made-up Whoodini Best Young Novelist award. They also jumped through hoops to get this book officially added to library catalog in the Graphic Novels category.

At one point, there was a wait list of 125 people who wanted to check out Dillon’s book. Random House offered to publish the book, and others have called the library to find out where to buy a copy.

What makes this little kid’s book so special? The librarians said that "it was obvious that Dillon had put so much time, effort, and dedication into this book" that they wanted to give it the recognition it deserves.

Adorbz.

Here are a couple of books that I would like to present for the (also made up) FU-dini Best Young Novelist Award. My boys wrote these tomes that I would like to publicly recognize on this fine Tuesday Fus-day.

Alex wrote a book when he was six years old called The Very Thirsty Rose. It’s basically two extremely long sentences. Our protagonist has a LOT of problems. Our rose is very thirsty, as the title suggests, but a drink is just out of reach. As a rose, he has no arms to reach out with and no legs to walk. Bad thing after bad thing! BUT this dramatic story has a happy ending because the rose CAN talk and eventually gets his needs met.

Looking back, I can't help but see this story as prophetic. Alex has had challenges in his life, and at one point he became overwhelmed and despondent. But he has come across many angels and compassionate helpers who have encouraged and advocated for him in surprising and touching ways. You can see the full text of this visionary work at the end of this post.

Chris authored and illustrated this book in high school to ask a friend to Homecoming. It is so sweet and original. It’s also a charming and understated invitation, so suitable to Chris’s personality.

Chris, the Happy Horse, By Chris Fu

This is Chris, the horse. He is happy because he loves many things. (I love many things.)

He loves hay. (I love hay!)

He loves new horse shoes… (I love new horse shoes!)

He loves Sunshine… (I love Sunshine!)

But what he would really love most is... (But what I would really love most is…)

If *lucky girl!* went to HC with him! (HC?) The End 2014

I love that Dillon Helbig got famous for doing something he loves. But he definitely got this recognition because he's a cute, little kid. LOTS of people put time, effort, and dedication into LOTS of things. Not only do most people not get the acknowledgement they deserve, but many are humiliated or disgraced for trying.

Honestly, Dillon’s book is probably not great. I can tell by the plotline. After he gets pooped out by the turkey, he ends up in “a cave that turns things green.” He then exits the cave through a portal back to his home and is visited by the Grinch.

There’s a little kid inside each one of us who is hungry to be seen and cherished. The good news is that we all have the ability to share warm appreciation for the efforts of others. I grant you all FU-dini Awards today and I hope you will pass them along. A smile and a high-five will do.

Thank you for reading, friends!

The very thirsty rose
By Alex Fu

Once up on a time there was a very thirsty rose now this rose did not have any house’s near by with watering can’s only a watering can to bad it was next to the corner and he was only next to the other corner and there was another bad thing he could not walk and there was another bad thing he did not have any arm’s and there was another bad thing he could not go under the soil and he could not thin of any idea’s when he was a man with a tray the man was walking around town to sell cookie’s excuse me the rose said wow! The man screamed I had never seen a talking rose before said the man can you reach that watering can and water me please said the rose yes said the man but I better hurry some people are waiting for me and told me to hurry up so the bakery man got the watering can and watered the rose ah that’s better said the rose and the man went back to work and the rose lived haply ever after the end

PUH-leeeze, Mr. Postman

 

You guys, I got in a fight with our mailman. I didn't throw punches or anything. I didn't even really raise my voice. Actually, the whole fight happened inside my head. The dumb mailman doesn't even know about it.

Albert and I are in the middle of a pretty big remodel of this house that we’ve lived in for almost 20 years. Our driveway and street are often lined with trucks and trailers while the construction crowd traipses in and out of our home causing our dogs bark their little heads off no matter how many times I remind them that these are our friends, not robbers.

The pups aren’t the only ones losing their fricken minds. Our mail carrier also came by to scold me last week. Most of the folks working on our house have been really good about not blocking the mailbox, but our street is really narrow and some of these guys have long trailers, so options are limited.

Mail Guy knocked on my door one afternoon holding a stack of letters and junk. He told me that he noticed that there have been lots of vehicles parked along the street in front of our house recently. Brilliant observation.

Yeah, we’re remodeling.

He went on to inform me that some of those vehicles have blocked the mailbox so that he couldn’t deliver the mail.

I peeked outside and asked, “Is the box blocked right now?” I wanted to be clear that we had the same understanding of this English word “blocked,” since there was a car parked near the mailbox at that moment that did not seem to me to be in front of the mailbox.

He said no, it’s not blocked right now.

So let me get this straight. Do you mean to tell me that you can park your truck, walk down my driveway to knock on my door, and lecture me with the mail in your hands when the mailbox is NOT blocked. But you aren’t willing to get out of your truck and drop that same mail into my mailbox when there happens to be someone parked near the front of it?

Temporarily?

Since it’s a safe assumption that we’re not going to be remodeling forever and ever since we do not live in the Winchester Mystery House.

Plus that’s not the kind of RAIN we get here in Oregon. Even though we have a lot of trees, money doesn’t seem to grow on any of them. We're going to run out of cash at some point. (Or last month.)

He went on to tell me that he would do me the "favor" of holding my mail for a day or two if this happens again, but if it happens for more than three days in a row, I have the opportunity to place a “hold” request at the post office.

This guy wasn’t rude but he really got to me. I was confused and irritated while he was talking. Then I got angry after he left. But then META ANGER set in over the weeks that followed.

Meta Anger: the anger I feel about my anger. Why was I letting this guy piss me off SO much? I hate feeling angry. I judged him for being lazy, but he was not too lazy to interrupt my afternoon to admonish me apparently.

And who does this turkey think he is? Certainly not Mr. McFeely, I'll tell you that! I literally pay his salary. He is a civil servant. He is supposed to serve me, not annoy me.

I have little to no control over who parks in front of my mailbox. I have zero to no control over whether he decides to deliver my mail. I felt like I was getting in trouble. BY THE MAIL CARRIER.

What I’ve learned over the years is that all anger stems from fear. And what I’ve learned over the past few months is that I am unconsciously yet viscerally scared of getting in trouble. Hypervigilant about doing things right and following rules, even to the detriment of the overall well-being of myself and my loved ones. And that has nothing to do with the mail carrier. It’s all my shit to work out.

BUT STILL.

What happened to “Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night stays these courageous couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds??” 

This saying was spoken approximately 2,500 years ago by the Greek historian, Herodotus. It was engraved on the outside of the original USPS building in NYC in the late 1800s because the architect thought it looked and sounded pretty. But is not actually an official USPS slogan.

Turns out that mail carriers ARE required by the Postal Operations Manual to get off their butts and deliver mail to temporarily blocked boxes as long as it is safe to do so. And it’s not like I live along a busy highway or in a sketchy neighborhood.

But apparently, this fellow didn’t get that memo. Maybe his mailbox was blocked that day.

Interestingly, after recognizing that my anger stemmed from my own fear of getting into trouble, it subsided. Because I can't get in trouble from the mailman.

He was just doing his job. (Well, not really, but....) And I'm trying to live my life and do mine. And all we humans are connected on this Earth and need to give each other a break sometimes.

So Meta.

Thanks for reading, my friends!

 

Right? Write.

 

My sweet friend, Amy, is smart and adventurous and capable. On top of working full time and taking care of her family, she is also a writer. One day, she invited me on a walk around town and we chatted about why we write. She reminded me that my original goal in creating this blog was to spread joy. Our time together reminded me that there will always be a need for gentle, generous perspectives which are so easily overlooked or smothered in our society these days.

So I'm back. It's been about six months, and you guys have been on my mind! I'm sorry to have left so abruptly without explanation. Apparently, I have learned NOTHING from Blue's Clues.

Remember Steve from Blue’s Clues? Just drove off one day and left us with his “cousin,” Joe, who we happened to never even hear of before. One day, Joe just took over Steve’s house , TAKING CARE OF HIS DOG, sharing his Thinking Chair, and chatting up the salt and pepper from France.

Went to college, he said. I’m so sure. Zero discussion of the capitalism and questionable value of SAT scores? No whining about lame questions on application essays? Not even ONE trip to Bed Bath & Beyond with a 20% off coupon in hand before he left? A Clue! A Clue!

And are you trying to tell me that not even ONE of those pieces of mail that made you want to wag your tail was a college acceptance letter?

But here’s what I DID learn from Steve. I owe you an apology. Sorry for ghosting you guys. I appreciate those of you who checked in on me. I’m doing just fine. Just working more hours which has been great, since that means that Family Promise is contributing more toward our mission of ending homelessness. 

And I’ve recently re-committed to some inner work through regular meditation, journaling, and therapy, which feel kind of all-consuming. Sometimes even a little brutal. It probably wouldn’t be so exhausting if I weren’t such a hot mess, but I yam who I yam.

Amy’s article about our walk together was published in the March 2022 edition of Lake Oswego Living and it made me smile. I hope it makes you smile as well. Thanks for sticking around with me, my friends!