Sol and Chick Converse

Hey, Chick, how’s it going?

Good. You?

Can’t complain.

Good.

Can I ask you a question?

Sure.

Do you ever have an experience where you see something or hear something or read something or I guess have any kind of sensory experience that kind of takes you out of your life and makes you see how middle-of-the-road your life is even though you thought you were doing pretty good at not living a middle-of-the-road life?

Yeah, sure. I don’t know if I’ve had exactly the thing you’re talking about but I think I’ve...

It’s like you see yourself from a distance and you feel this deep, torrent of compassion for yourself because of how pathetic your life is. But you’re the one feeling the compassion and you’re the one with the pathetic life—all at the exact same time.

I have moments where I feel I’ve been living on a plateau for a long time and I need to do something different, you know? Something to change things up or something.

Is there a feeling of compassion and pathos at the same time?

I can’t remember ever feeling that way but I’m sure it’s possible to have different feelings about similar experiences.

I just wonder how I can have both these strong emotions at the same time. And I wonder how I can even let myself get that way.

What way?

Pathetic.

You’re not pathetic.

I mean I read the papers and watch the news and I see these people all over the world having these experiences that I can’t even begin to understand, you know? I mean I can’t begin to grasp the immensity of their loss and struggle and anger and hatred and passion and happiness and…and…their…their whatever it is that makes up who they are, you know? Their identity. Their humanity. Their existence! Does that make sense?

Well…

I mean I just can’t understand it. And the little bit I can understand scares the hell out of me!

I think…

And I just can’t rectify the gap between the two sides, you know? The enormous, vast black-vacuum space, you know?

Do you think you’re responsible for it?

Not all of it but at least one, human-sized part of it, you know? I mean, I should be able to stand in and fill at least one space—one living space. I don’t know. I just don’t know. I should at least be able to understand another person. I should at least be able to come to the end of each day through the existence of another person, you know?

What do you mean?

I mean, I should be able to wake up, cross that divide, meet someone, understand them and then come back at the end of the day. Or not even come back! I should be able to get there and engrain myself in their life and just stay there if they’ll have me.

Okay, you lost me.

I know, I’m sorry. I think I’m just rambling. I just can’t say it right, you know? You ever try to say something that’s too big to say?

Of course.

When I was a kid I used to sit in my room, on my bed, and try to open the window just by using my thoughts.

Really?

Yeah, it just seemed so logical that I should be able to reach out with my mind and open the window. I thought if I focused hard enough and concentrated hard enough I could do it.

And…?

Nothing. I’d spend all afternoon in there and not do any homework or anything. I’d just stare at that latch and just keep telling it over and over to move. My grades bombed and my parents started to think I was losing it. They even asked me if I was up there cutting myself.

Really? Were you?

No. I mean, one time I tried it because I saw kids as school doing it but it never resulted in any mitigating psychological effect to make it worth the pain; it just hurt. And my trying it didn’t have anything to do with my window-opening experiment.

When did you finally quit trying to open the window?

I don’t know. I can’t remember. Sometimes, if I can’t sleep at night, I still try.

Still no luck?

Nope. Nothing.