Soundtracks: Petty

A self-indulgent rant with lots of middle fingers

Photo by ZSun Fu on Unsplash

Best when consumed while listening to “The Pot” by Tool

This one goes out to all my haters, and it goes way back.
I’ll start with my seventh-grade math teacher, who said I’d be a dropout failure.
I was thirteen and had a terrible time with algebra.
As a gay man in 1980s Republican California, I would have thought you’d be kinder to a misfit kid who was struggling.

I came across your online obituary from three years ago.
Well, shit.
You were always popular, and people have a lot of nice things to say about you there.
I suppose the good you did outweighs the way you failed me.
But I didn’t forget.
The ugly side of me imagined writing about my experience with you and leaving it on the page.
My own tribute to an apparently great man.
But the adult in me knows that is too petty, even for me.
So, here’s a middle finger just between us.
Rest in peace, though.

Here’s one for the preacher who pinned his own sins on me.
The one who spewed brimstone and guilted people to Jesus and rejected me when I did not stay with a husband who was abusive and unfaithful.
Because I hung out with my parents on weekends at a restaurant with a bar.
Because he was a small man whose shame was bigger than his god.
I’m sorry you weren’t enough for yourself.
Still, middle finger for you.

I got another one for the friend who minimized every creative pursuit of mine.
When I was hired to sing at a bar every weekend with their house band, I invited her to come.
She did, and gave me some feedback.
”I think most people could sing those songs. No, no, I think you’re really good, I’m just saying it’s not like you’re singing Mariah Carey songs.”
Meanwhile, she couldn’t carry a tune in a climate-controlled steel box, handcuffed to her wrist and escorted by the Secret Service.
It’s OK, though. I got paid for every night I was up on that stage, and people packed the place every weekend except holidays.
You never had anything good to say about anyone, anyway.
The green monster in you was inherited from your mother, whom you hate.
That is unfortunate.

This one goes out to the men and women who treated me like a scrub.
One literally said I would never amount to anything.
One tried to undermine every step I took to advance in my career.
One spoke poorly about me in rooms full of people who would determine my professional future.
Thankfully, my champions outnumbered your small legion of trolls.
I hit six figures ten years ago and have a pocket full of GFY coins to toss your way.
Alms for the poor in character.
Judge me now.

Yeah, I have a chip on my shoulder.
It was placed there for me, early on, and it drove me to succeed.
I’ve grown up now, and I think I have forgiven,
but I still take satisfaction in the revenge of my success.
I lift others up, because I know there is enough for all of us.
Sorry you didn’t know that.
Shame you expected me to fail.
Glad I could disappoint you.

YOU MUST HAVE BEEN OUT YOUR MIND