Monday, October 7, 1985, Before School
Yesterday was pretty boring. Dad took us to walk the Washington Mall, which I've done almost
every day for my whole life. I usually enjoy it, but not when this short, weird dude with an
annoying voice is lecturing to us about the importance of national security or something dull like
that. Who cares about national security? It's not like we can do anything to help it. That's the job
of the FBI and the CIA and all those creepy people. Spies. I shiver at the word. It gives me a cold,
clammy feeling in the pit of my stomach to think that there are people out there who follow bad
people and stop them. I mean, what if they make a mistake and start trailing an innocent person
like me? Not that I'm totally defenseless or anything. Zak and I both have black belts in karate.
But still, the very thought of someone watching your every move, albeit harmless, is still very
disquieting.
I know what you're thinking: If you hate spies so much, why is your favorite show the Avengers?
Well, that's fantasy, right? It's just made up. None of it really happened and you don't have to
worry whether the heroes are going to come out of it alive because they always do. With real
spies, it's different. You could be dead. Do you understand now? Good.
Last night, we took the Metro to Union Station to eat. I love that place. I like the hustle and
bustle of so many human beings milling around, each with their own itinerary. It kinda gives you
perspective to think that all those people are individuals with goals and plans for their lives. Wow.
Also, there are so many different cultural restaurants there. You can have almost ANYTHING
you want to eat. Zak and I went Indian and Mom and Dad did Greek and ate goat cheese. Yuck.
Then we went home and I put the final touches on my homework.
That's when Dad told us that he was leaving. Again. What a surprise
Sometimes I wonder about my life. I mean, not that it's incredibly awful or anything. I just
wonder what I'm here for, why my father hates us so much. Well, maybe he doesn't HATE us, he
just ignores us a lot. I really think that if he doesn't want to make the family commitment, he
should divorce Mom and let her find someone who will. I'm saying this right now because Mom's
in the bedroom crying over Dad's sudden departure. My heart will simply break if she doesn't
stop. I don't know what's wrong this time. She's never cried when Dad went away before.
Maybe it's because they didn't have time to make love this weekend. Oh, what a shame.
I know I sound really insensitive, but Mom should've figured out by now that Dad doesn't care
anything about us. I think I discovered that when I was ten and I realize that almost everyone else
I knew had a father and saw him at least once a week. Even the divorced kids for crying out loud!
That's why I wonder if it wouldn't be better if Mom and Dad got a divorce. But I know they
won't. They are really traditional about things like that. Marriage is sacred and all that rot.
Besides, as I mentioned before, Mom loves Dad a LOT. And I really mean a LOT. She would die
an excruciatingly slow and painful death for him and think nothing of it. Talk about a strong love.
And while I admire that in her, sometimes I think she's being awfully foolish. And it's not like
Dad is this incredibly intelligent, handsome, witty guy. He's a rock. And not even a young good-
looking rock. He's a fifty-five-year-old weird-looking rock with beady eyes and thinning hair.
Wake up, Mom!
Well, I need to get ready for school. I thought I wasn't going to go back there without a fight, but
now that Mom feels so bad, I'll go willingly, I guess.
Maxine
After School
Guess what? Duh, never mind, you're just a computer. Machines can't guess, so I suppose I'll
have to tell you. I met this new girl at school, and she's really nice. It appears her dad is away a
lot just like mine. He works on a cruise ship or something totally cool like that. He's not a boring
salesman like my dad. Ugh. Well, anyway, she goes by Freda, but that's not her real name. Her
real name is amazingly long like Frederica or something. I'm really glad that Dad isn't here for
once. He would freak. Because she's GERMAN. He's really touchy about Germans like I
mentioned before. I still don't know why. Maybe a German killed Chief! Whoa, that would give
him a good reason. But he's been like that ever since I remember, which is like WAY before Chief
died, so I don't know what's up. Maybe he's got a really mean coworker who's German. That
must be it. I KNOW Chief wasn't German since I met him several times. Well, he didn't have an
accent at any rate. And his name was Thaddeus. That's more JEWISH than German, even though
there are German-Jews. Oh, I'm so confused!
Well, anyway, just because that one certain person he dislikes is German doesn't give him the
right to hate all of them. Isn't that racism or something? And isn't that what Hitler did to people
who weren't German? So Dad is acting just like the people he despises. Does that make sense?
No, but since when has Dad made any sense. Don't answer that question. Besides, what's the
liklihood of Freda being related to Germans he hates? Probably one in a billion. And think of all
the good Germans there have been! Beethoven, Einstein, the list goes on! So I think Dad needs to
reevaluate his opinions.
Now that I think of it, I almost wish he could meet Freda so he could see what a nice person she
is. Sure, she says weird things like "Ach!" and pronounces "th" as "z," but is that any reason to
hate her?
I gotta go. More tomorrow.
Ach der lieber Maxi (ok, it doesn't make sense, so sue me!)
Tuesday, Oktober 8, 1985, After School
He-he! I spelled October like Freda does. I sure hope Dad doesn't read this thing. Of course, my
sudden fascination with all things German isn't the ONLY reason. I have also said some rather
nasty things about my father. Not that I regret them, its just that I don't feel like explaining them
to my indignant paternal parent.
Freda is even nicer than I hoped. We sat together at lunch, apart from the nerd table where my
brother and I are usually forced to sit by process of elimination. We talked about lots of things,
but mostly about how our fathers are always off somewhere. I found out that her father is actually
a DOCTOR on a cruise ship. Is that cool or what? He had to go through all those years of college
and study, so he must be a very intelligent man. Not like Dad, who went to college (though I
don't know why. He doesn't use it as a salesman) for only the four years mandatory for a
bachelor's degree and barely made it through, or so I heard.
Oh, Uncle Hymie's not coming today after all. He got this new job and he's super busy now. That
makes me sad. I really like my uncle and now he doesn't even have time for me. I'm beginning to
notice a pattern with the men in my life.
Well, I have a TON of homework, so bye.
Maxine Shmart (That's how Freda says it)
Yesterday was pretty boring. Dad took us to walk the Washington Mall, which I've done almost
every day for my whole life. I usually enjoy it, but not when this short, weird dude with an
annoying voice is lecturing to us about the importance of national security or something dull like
that. Who cares about national security? It's not like we can do anything to help it. That's the job
of the FBI and the CIA and all those creepy people. Spies. I shiver at the word. It gives me a cold,
clammy feeling in the pit of my stomach to think that there are people out there who follow bad
people and stop them. I mean, what if they make a mistake and start trailing an innocent person
like me? Not that I'm totally defenseless or anything. Zak and I both have black belts in karate.
But still, the very thought of someone watching your every move, albeit harmless, is still very
disquieting.
I know what you're thinking: If you hate spies so much, why is your favorite show the Avengers?
Well, that's fantasy, right? It's just made up. None of it really happened and you don't have to
worry whether the heroes are going to come out of it alive because they always do. With real
spies, it's different. You could be dead. Do you understand now? Good.
Last night, we took the Metro to Union Station to eat. I love that place. I like the hustle and
bustle of so many human beings milling around, each with their own itinerary. It kinda gives you
perspective to think that all those people are individuals with goals and plans for their lives. Wow.
Also, there are so many different cultural restaurants there. You can have almost ANYTHING
you want to eat. Zak and I went Indian and Mom and Dad did Greek and ate goat cheese. Yuck.
Then we went home and I put the final touches on my homework.
That's when Dad told us that he was leaving. Again. What a surprise
Sometimes I wonder about my life. I mean, not that it's incredibly awful or anything. I just
wonder what I'm here for, why my father hates us so much. Well, maybe he doesn't HATE us, he
just ignores us a lot. I really think that if he doesn't want to make the family commitment, he
should divorce Mom and let her find someone who will. I'm saying this right now because Mom's
in the bedroom crying over Dad's sudden departure. My heart will simply break if she doesn't
stop. I don't know what's wrong this time. She's never cried when Dad went away before.
Maybe it's because they didn't have time to make love this weekend. Oh, what a shame.
I know I sound really insensitive, but Mom should've figured out by now that Dad doesn't care
anything about us. I think I discovered that when I was ten and I realize that almost everyone else
I knew had a father and saw him at least once a week. Even the divorced kids for crying out loud!
That's why I wonder if it wouldn't be better if Mom and Dad got a divorce. But I know they
won't. They are really traditional about things like that. Marriage is sacred and all that rot.
Besides, as I mentioned before, Mom loves Dad a LOT. And I really mean a LOT. She would die
an excruciatingly slow and painful death for him and think nothing of it. Talk about a strong love.
And while I admire that in her, sometimes I think she's being awfully foolish. And it's not like
Dad is this incredibly intelligent, handsome, witty guy. He's a rock. And not even a young good-
looking rock. He's a fifty-five-year-old weird-looking rock with beady eyes and thinning hair.
Wake up, Mom!
Well, I need to get ready for school. I thought I wasn't going to go back there without a fight, but
now that Mom feels so bad, I'll go willingly, I guess.
Maxine
After School
Guess what? Duh, never mind, you're just a computer. Machines can't guess, so I suppose I'll
have to tell you. I met this new girl at school, and she's really nice. It appears her dad is away a
lot just like mine. He works on a cruise ship or something totally cool like that. He's not a boring
salesman like my dad. Ugh. Well, anyway, she goes by Freda, but that's not her real name. Her
real name is amazingly long like Frederica or something. I'm really glad that Dad isn't here for
once. He would freak. Because she's GERMAN. He's really touchy about Germans like I
mentioned before. I still don't know why. Maybe a German killed Chief! Whoa, that would give
him a good reason. But he's been like that ever since I remember, which is like WAY before Chief
died, so I don't know what's up. Maybe he's got a really mean coworker who's German. That
must be it. I KNOW Chief wasn't German since I met him several times. Well, he didn't have an
accent at any rate. And his name was Thaddeus. That's more JEWISH than German, even though
there are German-Jews. Oh, I'm so confused!
Well, anyway, just because that one certain person he dislikes is German doesn't give him the
right to hate all of them. Isn't that racism or something? And isn't that what Hitler did to people
who weren't German? So Dad is acting just like the people he despises. Does that make sense?
No, but since when has Dad made any sense. Don't answer that question. Besides, what's the
liklihood of Freda being related to Germans he hates? Probably one in a billion. And think of all
the good Germans there have been! Beethoven, Einstein, the list goes on! So I think Dad needs to
reevaluate his opinions.
Now that I think of it, I almost wish he could meet Freda so he could see what a nice person she
is. Sure, she says weird things like "Ach!" and pronounces "th" as "z," but is that any reason to
hate her?
I gotta go. More tomorrow.
Ach der lieber Maxi (ok, it doesn't make sense, so sue me!)
Tuesday, Oktober 8, 1985, After School
He-he! I spelled October like Freda does. I sure hope Dad doesn't read this thing. Of course, my
sudden fascination with all things German isn't the ONLY reason. I have also said some rather
nasty things about my father. Not that I regret them, its just that I don't feel like explaining them
to my indignant paternal parent.
Freda is even nicer than I hoped. We sat together at lunch, apart from the nerd table where my
brother and I are usually forced to sit by process of elimination. We talked about lots of things,
but mostly about how our fathers are always off somewhere. I found out that her father is actually
a DOCTOR on a cruise ship. Is that cool or what? He had to go through all those years of college
and study, so he must be a very intelligent man. Not like Dad, who went to college (though I
don't know why. He doesn't use it as a salesman) for only the four years mandatory for a
bachelor's degree and barely made it through, or so I heard.
Oh, Uncle Hymie's not coming today after all. He got this new job and he's super busy now. That
makes me sad. I really like my uncle and now he doesn't even have time for me. I'm beginning to
notice a pattern with the men in my life.
Well, I have a TON of homework, so bye.
Maxine Shmart (That's how Freda says it)