Fred Brainstorms

It was one of those perfect D.C. winter nights so common in watercolors but glum in real life. I was in a purposeful stride. It was below freezing and I didn’t bring my gloves. My fingers were jammed inside my pants pocket and the wind was insistent in reminding my face it was there. I passed a group of seemingly well-adjusted college students heading in the opposite direction. They spoke quickly to each other and agreed through laughter. I couldn’t help but think they were secretly laughing at me. Indeed my facial expression at the moment was suited for a stair master. 

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I forgot to leave the sink running and worried my household pipes would ice. I was on pace to my lecture so I stopped and looked around me for someone.  He was not but several yards behind me as expected. 

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“Can you send someone to turn my water on?” I shouted.

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“Already did” he replied.

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“What?  No seriously.”

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“I turned your water on right as you left.”

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“But, you opened the door for me as I left?”

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“Yah, I did both.”

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“Oh.”  I paused and took notice the wind felt much better against the hood of my sweatshirt.  It was silent around me and only a few cars were driving around this night.  Jacob was carrying my purse like a briefcase.  It made me smile inside thinking about what that did to his bravado. But I need to pick on him some more; it made me feel young. “Give me your gloves; I’m freezing my balls off.” 

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He ran up to me while smiling, “I'm sorry to hear that ma'am.” He pulled his gloves off and extended them.

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“Gimme the gloves.”  I smiled back.  “You know, it might snow tonight, you should really consider bringing an extra pair of gloves when you’re out here goofing around or whatever it is you do.”

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“Yes ma’am.  Should I wear two pairs of pants too just in case?”

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“Well that’s just ridiculous” I said in irony.  “If I had forgotten my pants I would have noticed when I tried warming up my hands in my pockets.  And stop calling me ma’am.  You’re taking away from this new hipster vibe I’m trying to give off to my students.”

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Jacob tilted his head at me with his mouth open. I knew his response before he could say it, “Hipsters haven’t been cool in over twenty years ma’am.”

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“You’ve got to be shitting me.” 

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“I’m sorry ma’am… I mean.”

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I interrupted him, “Hipsters aren’t cool anymore?”

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“Maybe in the tens and twenties. It’s all about celebrity space now.”

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“Ya, I’ve been wondering about that.” 

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Students began buying backpacks designed after their favorite planet or nebula.  The trend started when the first group of civilian astronauts returned from Mars and became instant celebrity astrophysicists. It was a great day for many nations too and eventually led to an acceleration of space undertakings being embedded between countries. 

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“Lame.”

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“I agree, ma’am.”

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I stopped and looked at him. 

 

Before he could apologize I replied, “Dude.”  His face cockeyed; but I continued, “I agree… dude.”

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Doing his best to hide behind his nostrils, he repeated, “I agree, dude.”  He was good at keeping a straight face.

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I wasn’t. I spit a little but acted as if I didn’t notice. “Yep.” I turned around and held my chest in from laughing and propelling my saliva at any innocent bystanders walking by.  I thought to myself, wasn’t I supposed to mature past this by now? Did I just spit on that man’s forehead?

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The secret service let me take the long way again. They were familiar with me being lost everywhere I went. I know they’re laughing at me over their radios. We are almost to Dupont Circle.  I am speaking at the Women’s Law Center there. I gave my class the evening off but bribed them with extra credit points to attend my lecture. To be honest, I wanted to be a physics professor. I still imagine myself as the twenty seven year old Einstein who’s about to set fire to world of atoms.  But being a astro day dreamer didn’t convince anyone. In the infinite wisdom of my alma mater, political science was the most practical use of my skills.

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I was greeted very fast by a dozen overly dressed professionals. I don’t like giving speedy handshakes because it made me look insincere, but I knew I was late at no fault of anyone but myself. The moderator was a familiar face who welcomed me kindly and explained he would be starting momentarily. It wasn’t but a few seconds until I stood behind a curtain listening to a short biographical introduction of myself. It was always nerve racking listening to people describe me. Even after years of being in front of a camera I felt people would be utterly dissatisfied once they realized it was me. I took a couple seconds to breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. This elementary technique always helped me to rid doubt.

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“Ma’am.”

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I turned, “Yes?”

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“That’s your cue”, Jacob said.

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“Oh” I began to open the curtain but I couldn’t find its sleeve. I started swinging at it moving a few feet to the side considering that maybe it was designed for me to crawl under.

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“Ma’am over here.”

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I hustled from behind the curtains to the side-entry of the stage. I was greeted by a roaring ovation and couldn’t help but smile from every muscle in my body. The lights on the stage blinded my vision to the audience members but I felt welcomed. I thanked the moderator and slowly postured myself at the edge of the stage to gesture my appreciation and for the crowd to please be seated. I used this time to practice my breathing and remember who I’m talking to.

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“How many of you are twenty seven?”

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The crowd slowly responded with a handful of hands and people looking around.

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“Oh good a few of you are. I ask this because if you are sitting here now you probably have an advantage over where I was when I was twenty seven. I was in jail. And suffering from heroine withdrawal.”

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