Be home at six, it’s the same every day: Donnie, dear, now you be home at six. Are you listening, Donnie?!” News flash, Mom, it’s stupid to be home at six, I can ride down the hill maybe ten more times before it gets dark. How many times do I have to explain this, Donnie–dinner is our special time. Our time to be together, son. Sure it is, Mom–we stare at our plates and I get another dumb lecture about slacking, and then I get to hear about my perfect little brother. So if Dougie’s so great, why’d Dad disappear? God she’s dumb. Whoa, check out the sky out over the ocean–all red and orange like that tank explosion in Medal of Honor! Road’s clear down below: two block shot  ... Whoosh! Doing sixty! What a bike, man I love the wind on my face, like it’s slapping my face, wet and salty–I love it!

                                                                                                           

                                                       ***

 

 God-damned grinding gears, if that’s the transmission I’m screwed–and the clutch, and the brakes shrieking like Tina on the phone, and the credit card up to three thou already. Three thousand bucks debt for six years painting houses while she coasts at home, and now she gets the–oops! We interrupt this rant for a recorded message from your newly-ex-wife: This may be a little hard for you to understand, Robert, but taking care of our home and your daughter is hard work, too–in fact, I may work harder than you do. At least you get to be out in the fresh air all day! Ha ha! Good joke, Teen! I got it, even with my limited education! We return you now to our regular rant: Six years hard labor while she coasts at home, and now she gets the good car, and I get the shaft! The crankshaft, that’s a good one! I’m gonna do it, damn it, I’m gonna go do stand-up like everyone says! And shecan’t tell me not to, I’m free now, free, I can do what I want to–except spend my money, and see my own daughter whenever I want to. Hey, that’s more good material, no wonder comedians all have messed up lives. Hey, where’s the recorder, right here on the seat. You’re so good, Bobby, you can drive with one hand, work the mike with the other, like in middle school working the Walkman while biking, like turning the best donuts back in high school. Man, I’d love to see her face in the crowd when I’m a stand-up star, killing them with my ex-wife jokes. Sweeet!

 

                                                      ***

 

Yo, Fool! Check this donut! This bike’s awesome, go stand down there in the street, I’ll spin it next to you. Watch this, you gotta go fast to stick it. Whoosh! Goin’ eighty downhill at least! Wind feels good! Grind it now, Donnie, stick it! Whew! Major rubber! Hey, Fooj, where we goin’? To the park? Whatchya got there, a cigarette, man? Hey dude, that’s a joint. Oo, that smells nasty. Duh, I’ve smelled grass before! No I ain’t scared, how stupid is that! I wouldn’t get a whacking, my dad’s not like that. What is he like? Shut up, Fuji, I’m going back biking.

 

***

 

Je-zus, will you look at this crap? Half the houses need paint jobs, and the ones that have been painted, were painted by homeowners too cheap to pay a pro to do it right. And just exactly how is a working man supposed to carry two apartments and a wife who says eighty-five dollar salon visits are a business necessity, Robert, if I’m going to get a decent secretarial job. Nine frickin’ hours without a break, better stop at The Mast for a burger and brew–hell, I can’t pick up Jennie until seven anyway, You’re not allowed to pick her up before seven, Robert, you can read the court order as well as I can–damned if I’m gonna get there early again and sit in front of her highness’s building like a dog while Jen sits watching her Dad out the window waiting for his vis-i-ta-tion to start.

 

 

                                                     ***

 

 Cheese-us, Fuji is so frickin’ stupid! Dad’s so cool, he used to race motorbikes downhill like this. Didn’t he? Yeah he did, I’m sure he did, Mom’s crazy when she says I’m too young to remember, his hair all long and blond like mine, flying out behind him like mine, I’m glad I’ve got cool hair like my dad’s–I’m a playah, dude, those Chinese girls love me! That tall girl in English who wants to go to the movies. Whoa, my god! Look at the dork with the bike helmet on! Dad would never make me wear one, he never did. Mom’s so dumb: You need to wear your helmet, Donnie, I spent eighteen dollars I can’t afford to protect that everlovin’ noggin of yours! Sure, Mom, that’ll happen. Whoosh! Ha! Look at that dork staring at me with his mouth open. In his dreams he can go this fast, I shot that block in about ten seconds! Man, I gotta get home soon. Aw forget about it, what’s Mom gonna do? Cry?

 

                                                 ***                                                       

 

          Hey Tom, here’s my latest: how many feminist divorce lawyers does it take to screw in a lightbulb? Answer? None. They don’t screw in lightbulbs, they only screw fathers! Hey Tommy, you smiled! You smiled, bartender, don’t you try to deny it! I know, I know, you’re supposed to be neutral–but face it, Tommy, there’s just us guys here, and you smiled–you did. Which means  you’re hooked. See, I hooked you with my lead, `cause that’s what you do, you hook them with your lead, then you get rolling on their theme and all. Like: You know why they call a woman’s butt booty? `Causethey wreck your marriage, they boot you out, then they get a butch lawyer and take all the booty! And how is that possible? How can that be? Because this is the land of no fault divorce. No fault, Tommy, like World War II–a no fault war! Like, “Hey, Germany! I guess our countries had irreconcilable differences! That’s cool, let’s let bygones be bygones. I’ll give your country a boatload of support money, I’ll visit the refugees two times a week, and before you know it, we’ll be best friends!” And that, my beer-pouring friend, is history–you can look it up. 

 
***

 

Man, I bet I’ve got the strongest legs in school from walking up this hill every day–plus the biking. Hey I’m the coolest one in this family, check it out–what’s Mom always ragging on Dougie about? You know, Dougie, it’s great to be an A student–and believe me, son, not a day goes by that I don’t thank heaven for you and your achievements–but it’s important to get some exercise, too. Well look at me, Mom, that’s all that I do! But with me it’s always, Why aren’t you ever home on time! Can’t you ever think of anyone besides yourself? How much sense does that make! Whoa dude, I’m flyin’!  

 
***

 God? I know you’re up there, I can hear you laughing–even over the dying transmission! Now listen, God, with you as my witness–`cause you were there in the bar with me, right? Duh you were there, you’re everywhere, cha!–all I had was one glass, right? Right. You know it, and I know it, and every breath tester out there knows it. But you also know, and I know, that if our dear little Tina–who you put on Earth to torment me, Big Dawg–smells beer on my breath, she’ll sick her lawyer on me like a junkyard dog. Which is why you, in your infinite wisdom, made Binaca, for poor slobs like me. Which is where? On the seat, like everything else. Like everything thing I own, practically.  Look at these yups driving home in their Audis. What the hell do they do all day? Whatever it is, Tina thinks it’s just great. `Cause that’s what she wants, a rich guy with clean hands. Man, the days are sure getting short fast. Poor kids, first vacation ends, then right away the days get shorter. Party’s over, little ones.

 

                                                         ***

 Flying downhill with the air so cold, it feels like being whipped by the wind! It feels like this when you’re skiing, I bet–I am totally gonna go skiing one day! I’ll ski all day, then go inside for hot chocolate and–whoa, Mom’s making soup tonight! What kind did she say? Tomato rice! Man she’s gonna cry, I made your favorite and you couldn’t even be home on time! Hey I’m coming, Mama! I’m just your sweet little everlovin’ rascal, that’s all!

 

                                                                           ***

 Wait a minute, seven-thirty or seven? Man, Jennie would laugh if she saw me stroking my beard: Dad, you look like you’re trying to look really smart when you play with your goat! That’s goatee, hon. Damn, seven-twenty already! If it’s seven I’m screwed, she won’t even let me see Jennie at all: It’s not good for the child to sit there waiting for her father to arrive, Robert, can you imagine how it feels when you don’t show up? Oh shut the hell up, one time I forget and I’m marked for life! Where’s that damned court order! Right here ... 

***

 One last dip, now I glide to the driveway!

                                                                           *** 

 What–

***

 Pickup!

***

 Slam it, Bobby! Donut! God!

***

 Nail it, Donnie! Stick it! Donut!

***
 Braaakes!                  

END