The Things We Need

"I say, fuck you Jobu..."

 As a sports fan, it tickles me to know about athletes' good luck charms- the items they believe will help them win games. Things like a crucifix, a certain piece of equipment, or even a pair of lucky underwear. It's funny that these men and women, who have practiced until their bodies are beyond hurt, think a sock will make all the difference. Forget skills, precision, expertise. We've got SOCKS!

What's even funnier is realizing that I, too, have my little trinkets that helped me write, travel, and just get through the day in general, and without them everything feels wrong and out of place. My grandmother's ring; a novelty pencil from Jamaica that I dubbed Barrington Mon; a bullet on a chain given to me by a sweet Vietnamese suitor back in high school; my thumb drive, filled with everything I've ever even thought about writing. These are the things I need.

If I dare get on a train, plane, or automobile and am not wearing or carrying Grandma's ring, or my thumb drive, I freak out inside. When I used to perform at readings, I needed that bullet necklace in my pocket. When I would sit at the computer trying to conjure up a story and Barrington Mon was not nearby, I couldn't focus on what I was trying to write.

Of course it's silly to depend on them. After all, I have all this talent, I had all those stories that wanted and needed to be told. The lack of a pencil or a piece of jewelry should not have stood in the way of that. But it did. On the flip side, maybe there's truth to trinkets and totems holding a certain energy that can help, protect, and comfort, and then transfers that energy to us. 

You know, my grandmother didn't get to travel (NJ doesn't count). As far as I know, she came to Brooklyn and stayed put, with just a few tiny trips to Lawrence, Massachusettes; Buffalo, NY; Virginia Beach; and maybe she went a cruise to Alaska? Am I making that up? I think I am... Anyways, that was the extent of it. But with me, through that ring, and in my heart, she's been across the Atlantic, across the country, and even parasailing in Key West. I need Grandma's ring with me everywhere because she's not here in body. (The thumb drive coming with me is just a panic response to having countless computers crash on me, taking with them countless raw documents I'll never get back. It's my emotional support thumb drive.)

And every desk I've ever had since 2005 has featured Barrington Mon; he was gifted to me by a kind, gentle soul I met during my MFA residency, who always had wise observations and a beautiful way of speaking and writing. This pencil reminds me to be easy and trust the light within (advice given to me by said friend), even though I abandoned my craft in 2020. 

The bullet necklace? Well, I mean it's a bullet necklace. Like an actual bullet. It's cool as fuck and I will always cherish it and remember that kid from high school who took it from around his neck and gave it to me when I complimented it. I don't really know it's history, and I've given it at least three backstories from my imagination, but I do know that when I wear it, my confidence level is through the roof.

Does this sound crazy? Do you have your own little false idols? Or is it just this recovering Catholic + a bunch of MLB players? Either way, it's what I need.

Love & Balls,
Jaded

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hey, please excuse the mess

see I just wanna feel

i mean really really feel

it all, it all

so give me something...