Show Business

A deceased family member's computer sits quietly in the clutter of our bedroom closet. Its plastic casing holds an unpublished memoir that details taboo sexual experiences, military rebellion, musical enterprise, and the key to winning in show business. The man who's words remain folded tightly beneath wires and binary code was an exceptionally giving and talented man, and all I know of him are a few short encounters with him and the anecdotes of his close family members. Those little nuggets of acquaintance play with my nerves. I'm shaking and salivating for the chance to unfold those words of both wisdom and controversy. I would chance a moment to sew together the chapters of his manuscript, but I would fear anger and rebellion from those who frown on the saucy existence of a gay church pianist.

He used to say the key to success is having the show business philosophy: be prepared, show up, and show up on time. His punctuality kept him in good standing with many musical venues, including churches. He was 100% true to his word, and if he said he' buy you dinner in three months, you should expect to be wherever the dinner would be on that date. He'd be there.

This guy was a giving guy, and his life was riddled with strange and curious instances. He's a writer's wet dream, yet unfurling his world would have the expected ramifications of vilifying him rather then hero-ifying him. Honesty in writing has that wild conclusion. My favorite writers are not be afraid to unearth a few bones, save for, of course, bones with price tags in the form of litigation attached to them.

I once wrote a poetry chapbook and had one single poem that mentioned a flicker of time in the past when my family received government assistance. My mom read the poem (among a few other poems), and she reacted as if she had just swallowed stale milk. Her lips pursed as she disapproved of the poetic liberties I perceptually abused. The poem wouldn't make sense without that line, nor would the biography of anyone's life should the writer omit the ugly, unsavory details of their diaries.