Real Life
for Uncle Lane, 2006
Above a cloud of blue smoke, backlit by the jukebox and augmented by mellow bulbs, he asks me “Well, girl, we don’t see too much of you at home any more. What have you been up to?”
So, I turn it over in my mind, try to grab for an elusive feel of the past two years since I had seen Uncle Lane, and his bar; or even most of my extended family. I have to practially shout over the music to be heard, and the man next to me is eyeing me up as he falls deeper into his cups. I’ve always hated bars.
“I had to move when I lost my job, and I took a new position with the world’s third largest breeder of rats and mice for research. It keeps me very busy, and I am now one of the youngest ethics committee chairs in the country, as well” I shout this more or less into his ear, as a patron slaps him on the back and thanks him for the beer.
As I say this, I think of the heartache of leaving the place I loved, the community of support, my friends, my lab, my research. I think of the fiasco of finding a new place, and hating the town I moved to. How I used to walk out my door at night to go sit by the lake and watch the stars, and now I live where I cannot leave the house after dusk without fearing for my safety.
I think of the long hours necessary to run the veterinary administrative program for over a million animals. I think of the hard work I put in, the studying, to take on the position I did with the ethics committee, how I had to answer to the inspectors when they visited for three previous years of mistakes, and offer solutions for moving forward. How the idea that I can be a professioanl succeess is new to me, but is very alluring, and gratifying.
I tell him “I’ve been working on my development project in Latin America, and made a trip back there to work with my people, this summer” and think of the struggle to put together the money, and the struggle to keep focused on this project while I’m trying to piece my own life together. I think, too, of the sunrise from 11,000 feet, and the embrace of old friends, and the way everything tastes fresher in Guatemala, like life is being lived out loud.
“I started dating a hiker last fall, and we’ve climbed about twenty mountains” With this, I imagine the joy of being on top of a mountain, and the thrushes singing in the spring, the discoveries of tracks and trails, and the love I have for all things outdoors. I don’t know if it’s love with my fellow, but we’re having a great time, and we hike almost every weekend, with a wonderful group of people whose laughter rings off the hills.
“My artwork has been taking off, and I’m starting to write again” I have finally gotten my tax id number, and places are starting to carry my jewelry. I am using it to support my development project. I am so proud of myself! This has been a goal for ten years!
“Since I don’t have a car, it is tough to just take off, plus, I work about sixty hours a week and money is still tight.” Always, it’s been a factor of not having either enough time or enough money. Sometimes, both.
“So, been doing ok, Uncle Lane, just kind of busy” Realizing, as I say this, I kind of like it this way. There’s never time to be bored, just the frustration of not being able to meet all the commitments I make to myself.
He drags on his cigarette, and Lynard Skynard starts singing about wanting three steps for the door. The scene is as timeless as the strip mines in this town, where I grew up, as unchanged as it was twenty years ago. Uncle Lane looks at me closely, and says,
“Girl, we’ve all been wondering, when are you going to find a man to settle you down and start your real life?”
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